Ghost Electricity

by Sean Cunningham

  He walked up to the wall that fronted the upper level, between the central staircase and the public toilets. Miss Koh checked to make sure no one was watching them and frowned at Jacob. “Why are we staring at a blank wall?”

  “You can’t see it?”

  “See what?”

  “I really thought I was getting better value when I hired you.” He grabbed her arm and she shivered. She slapped his hand away with a practised move, but even as she did so she saw the door in front of them. It was made of iron and looked like it could survive missile strikes.

  Miss Koh’s lip curled. “Want me to knock?”

  A series of loud mechanical noises came from within the door. Jacob waited, tapping his foot, aware via his mystic senses of the other locks and defences being withdrawn. The door groaned aside and Jacob ducked in. Miss Koh regarded the small room within dubiously, but she joined him.

  The door rolled shut and hit with a clang that shook their bones. The room jerked and began a rattling descent.

  “You still haven’t told me where we’re going, or why,” Miss Koh said.

  “Plan B,” Jacob said.

  “I hope it’s better than Plan A.”

  Jacob’s mouth stretched wide, though not in what could be called a smile. “I think you’ll like it.”

  The lift slowed and stopped. When the door ratcheted aside it revealed a long corridor of the same heavy steel as the door above. A young woman stood waiting for them, impatient as though they were late. Her red hair was pulled back in a severe braid. She wore a black skirt and leggings and her boots had conspicuous rubber soles. Her blue gaze flicked to Miss Koh before turning their entire and very much displeased attention on Jacob.

  “He’ll give you thirty seconds, Jacob,” Evelyn Hargrave said. “That’s a courtesy he extends to no one else on such short notice.”

  “I won’t need thirty seconds,” Jacob said.

  “Your errand girl stays here.”

  “That won’t happen,” Miss Koh said.

  He waved a hand at her. “Just stay here.”

  He walked at Evelyn’s side along a twisting corridor. Through different walls he could feel the ebb and flow of vast currents of electricity. He drew his phone from his pocket and saw that not only did he have no signal, but the numbers that should have displayed the time were drifting around the screen like leaves floating on water.

  “Father has improved the defences since your last visit,” Evelyn said. “Now even time cannot be used against us in here.”

  Jacob grunted.

  They came to another heavy door, easily a match for the one above. “I haven’t seen you this angry in a long time, Jacob.”

  “I’m on a deadline,” Jacob said.

  “I hope for your sake that you’re more civil with my father. You know how he responds to that kind of tone.”

  It was an effort not to shout. “I’m saving up all my good manners for him.”

  Evelyn turned a dial beside the door. With the same sequence of noises and bangs as at the door on the surface, it rumbled aside.

  Beyond was the sarcophagus chamber. The black metal object tugged on his magic talent as though trying to tear it from his flesh. The dead presence inside the sarcophagus dragged at his senses like cold fingers.

  Little wonder that he didn’t hear Evelyn’s father come up behind him.

  “This is irregular, Mr Mandellan,” he said from a few paces behind Jacob.

  Jacob spun round, made more on edge than he would like by the workings of the chamber. “Doctor Hargrave.”

  He studied Doctor Hargrave for any signs of aging since his last visit. He appeared as he had then, an assured late twenty-something with a look of hooded calculation in his eyes. He wore a white coat buttoned across his chest and like his daughter he wore rubber-soled boots.

  They said he had devices that could read the thoughts of anyone, anywhere in Britain. The Shield Foundation, the organisation to which the London shadow council contracted much of its security work, had repeatedly tried to gain access to the facility. He had foiled every attempt. They said he controlled the council, sometimes by blackmail, sometimes by bribing them with alchemical compounds that prolonged the youth and health of those who used them. They said he knew of worlds beyond the Earth and made bargains with the inhuman intellects that dwelt there.

  Jacob had taken the measure of the crazy old spider within five seconds of meeting him. It was important to be civil. It was important to let Doctor Hargrave decide the pace and course of the conversation. Dealing with him was like handling lightning, but it could be done if you were in the right frame of mind and knew what he wanted.

  All he had to do was control his temper.

  “The hour is late,” Doctor Hargrave said. “Get on with it.”

  “I need a dose of your Compound D.”

  Doctor Hargrave showed no surprise, even at this demand. “It is the most effective of my derived compounds, but also the one with the greatest number of side effects. You are aware of this, are you not?”

  “I understand the cost,” Jacob said.

  “And he doesn’t care, Father,” Evelyn said. “The compound is for his errand girl. Does she know what you plan for her, Jacob?”

  “It’s a risky line of business in a dangerous world.” In his pocket, Jacob’s hand clenched tight around his phone. It was the only sign of tension he allowed himself.

  “A dose of Compound D will be expensive, Mr Mandellan,” Doctor Hargrave said.

  Jacob released his phone and pulled a glass vial from the inside pocket of his suit jacket. A misty yellow liquid curled within it, unaffected by the motion of the vial. “Three weeks of summer on a boat off the coast of Croatia. Bright sun, clear water, partying every evening in a different town, plus the company of a pretty little blonde to rock the boat at night.”

  Jacob had bargained with the Tonno brothers close to a year ago and taken a loss on the deal just to have a vial like this on hand, should he ever need the services of Doctor Hargrave. It had been a blind investment at the time and it would have shocked anyone to know he thought enough of himself to do business with the old spider, but to Jacob’s mind limits were for other people. Chance favoured the prepared.

  Doctor Hargrave stared at the vial and not a muscle on his face moved. Not for the first time, Jacob wondered if Doctor Hargrave even had any feeling left in his face. Perhaps the nerves had all died decades ago.

  “Evelyn, fetch Mr Mandellan a dose of Compound D and an appropriate syringe kit,” Doctor Hargrave said.

  “Yes Father.”

  Jacob watched as Evelyn went to a bank of drum-sized cylinders about a third of the way around the room. She fitted herself with long, cold-proof gloves and used tongs to remove a single vial from a cylinder overflowing with freezing mist.

  “Is that the done thing now?” Doctor Hargrave asked while they waited. “To holiday in Croatia?”

  The effort at conversation surprised Jacob. He had to pull his thoughts away from the anger still crackling in the back of his mind. “In the summer, yes. It’s supposed to be beautiful there.”

  “Not a place of common fishing villages, one supposes?” Doctor Hargrave said.

  “Better at catering to young tourists these days.”

  Doctor Hargrave nodded. “I cannot abide the smell of trawlers and fish markets. I cannot imagine anyone wanting to holiday in such a stench.” Across the room, Evelyn re-sealed the cylinder. “You strike me as a bullet speeding through the air, Mr Mandellan. What has so raised your ire?”

  “Julian Blackwood has reappeared.” Jacob couldn’t keep the heat from his voice.

  “Has the Shield Foundation noticed yet? I was told once that they were out for his blood.” From his tone, they could have still have been discussing Mediterranean holidays.

  “No idea.”

  “Jacob,” Evelyn said as she returned. “I trust this is self-explanatory?” She opened the small leather case she held to display a vial and a s
yringe strapped down with loops of leather. The liquid in the vial was oily black and the needle of the syringe gleamed blue-grey.

  Jacob took the kit. “I’ll manage.”

  “The compound will only be effective for an hour,” Doctor Hargrave said. “After that, I would not count on your subject being alive. I suggest not being in the vicinity, either.”

  Jacob handed over the vial of swirling memory. “Thank you, Doctor.”

  “Do watch yourself, Mr Mandellan. Evelyn will show you out.”

  After the first door had closed behind them, Evelyn asked, “I heard what you said to my father. Do you mean to kill Julian?”

  “Do you care?” Jacob said.

  “We both do, Jacob. We are concerned for the both of you. Good luck.”

  “What is it?” Miss Koh asked while they rode the lift back up to the surface. She kept trying to get a good look at the case in Jacob’s hand.

  Evelyn’s peculiar final words were nagging at the corner of his mind. “Plan B,” he said. “You’ll see soon enough.” He looked at his phone. The numbers were shivering their way back towards their usual positions. When he and Miss Koh were back out in the square, under the scrutiny of the bronze lions, he saw he had two missed calls from Catherine, the seer in Wales.

  His phone rang before he reached the car.

  “Two missed calls?” Jacob said. “Couldn’t you tell I was out of signal range?”

  “I could explain how Trafalgar Square and anything that happens there looks like chaos to a seer, how from where I’m standing you’ve left the square three times already and will do so two more times, but you’re in a hurry,” she said.

  “How did they get away from the ambush?” Jacob asked. They reached the car, but Jacob leaned against the door. “I need to know what I’m up against.”

  “I can’t tell you that,” she said. “They weren’t inside normal time and space. I can tell you they were hit again by vampires on the motorway. They aren’t in good shape.”

  “Finally some good news. Tell me where to intercept them.” His gaze went to Miss Koh. “And tell me when. Timing is important.”

  Rob planted the tray of fast food on the table and said, “Grub’s up.”

  Julian reached for the bottle of water first. His hands were so weak he couldn’t even get the top off. Wordlessly, Rob took it from him, cracked it open and handed it back. Julian gulped down half the bottle in one go, paused to breathe and then drained the rest.

  Rob took a seat opposite him. Despite the tantalising smell of the food in front of him, he spent a few moments studying his friend. He looked just about ready to fall over dead.

  They had pulled the battle-worn van into the car park of another service station. Rob watched it for a few minutes before going inside but while there weren’t many people to be seen at this hour, it wasn’t deserted.

  They wore heavy coats Julian pulled from his bag. They were too thick for the cool autumn weather, but they concealed the blood, gore and rags left them by the journey so far. Rob planted a hunched and stumbling Julian at a table and went to order food.

  The cuts on Julian’s face looked two or three days old. He had healed himself enough to stop from bleeding to death and banished the worst of the concussion, but there were big black circles beneath his eyes. He didn’t look very much aware of his surroundings.

  “You need a hospital,” Rob said.

  Julian scooped hot chips into his mouth and shook his head. “We’re on a timetable.”

  “It’s just a job, man,” Rob said. “Who gives a toss, really? It isn’t worth getting you done in.”

  “Hah, you say this now.”

  “I’m serious,” Rob said. “Let’s call it and get you stitched back together.”

  Julian lifted his head and met Rob’s gaze. The trouble they’d fought through had stripped him down to the core and exhaustion was scored into every line in his face, but deep in his eyes Rob saw cold steel.

  “Rob,” he said, “if you quit now, I will personally tell everyone at work that you think Dean is a great guy and you want to buy him a get well present.”

  “You what?”

  “You’ll have to collect money for a gift,” Julian said. “You’ll have to pick it out. You’ll have to leave it on his desk with a bright, bubbly card with a horribly cheerful ‘Get well soon!’ message inside it. You will, in fact, be expected to write in your very own words how sorry you are that he’s off sick and how your best wishes are with him.”

  “He’s not sick. You blew his face off.”

  “No one else at work knows that. They think he has the flu. Or if they know he’s a vampire, they’ll just think he’s off doing vampire things.”

  Rob thought of get well cards. He shuddered and unwrapped his burger. “You’re a heartless and despicable man. Your loss, anyway. There would have been nurses, you know.”

  Julian shrugged. “I don’t like hospitals.” He looked at Rob’s share of their meal. “Why are you only eating one burger?”

  “Oh, I had one of the vampires back there,” he said.

  Julian considered that. “Good thinking.”

  “Yeah, turns out they’re very filling. Who knew?”

  They used the facilities before they left. Though Rob wouldn’t have said it out loud, he was enough of a man to admit to himself that just this once he didn’t really want to go to the toilet alone.

  He saw the moon had risen higher into the night as they walked back to the van. It was partly hidden by the patchy clouds, but it was very nearly full. He was tired and sore and he knew it would be at least the next night before he felt himself again, but the light of the moon still felt better than warm sun on his skin. The car park and the fields beyond were rich with night smells that tickled at him invitingly.

  “Oh fuck,” Rob said.

  “What now?” Julian still walked hunched, but the food and drink had done him at least a little good.

  He yanked the sleeve of his coat back. “When was the last time you saw my wrist chain?”

  “You’ve killed and fed, you’ll be fine.” Julian kept moving.

  “You don’t understand, I need the damned thing,” Rob said. “Do you know what it’s like travelling the Tube without it? All those people pressed in close, with their perfume and their aftershave and their bad toilet habits and the booze from last night coming out their pores and –”

  “Rob.” Julian didn’t use the voice he’d used on Laurie to try freeze her in place, but he still snapped Rob to silence. “Rob, you’ll be all right.”

  Rob breathed out. He was about to say something when all the lights in the car park began flickering.

  Julian swore and reached into his bag.

  A light exploded, showering bright sparks that rippled through white, blue and green. Another went. The sign by the motorway shattered. Two more lights popped in quick succession and then the lights inside the service station all went out at once.

  “Sod this,” Rob said and threw off the coat Julian had given him. He let his anger loose and it boiled up inside him. His flesh shivered and changed, his bones crunched and lengthened. He rode out the pain, lifted his head and howled at the moon.

  Lightning shot out from a dozen different sources. It came from the shattered car park lights and from ruined signs. A great crackling mass rolled out from within the service station and beneath the hot wind of ozone, Rob smelled burnt human flesh.

  It zapped together, coalesced and rose into a towering humanoid form. It had heavy, broad shoulders, long arms, sparking talons and almost no head. Two eyes, two dense voids, stood out in the brightness.

  “Axrillax,” Julian said. He already had his gauntlet half-strapped to his wrist.

  “Is that a swear word?” Rob asked.

  “It’s the daemon’s name. Listen quickly. See how it’s got a surface like a skin? To manifest like this, the daemon changes from energy to electro-flesh.”

  “You’ve lost me matey,” Rob said.

&n
bsp; Julian pulled the strap of his glove tight and threaded the buckle. “It can be cut.”

  The daemon brought one great fist down on a four wheel drive and smashed it all the way through. It grabbed metal with both hands and twisted it apart, like a man shredding paper. The fine hairs on Rob’s hide stood upright as the twisted metal slapped against the demon’s hide, forming a ragged, impromptu suit of armour.

  “Bugger,” Rob said. “Well, you hang back and I’ll get to know the Christmas tree here a little –”

  He was hit from the side, hit in the head, hard enough to send him flying through the air. He collided with a hatchback windscreen, smashed through the glass and found himself upside down on a seat that smelled of cat.

  He made a choking sound and writhed free.

  Just in time to take another boot to the face. He cartwheeled over the hatchback and hit the pickup truck parked in front of it.

  Stars danced before his eyes. He pushed himself upright, shaking his head to try to clear it. Above him, poised on top of the hatchback, he saw a small Asian woman in tight-fitting grey clothes. Her eyes were completely black and a tarry black liquid ran down her cheeks. Her mouth was fixed in a grimace, teeth bared.

  Miss Koh leapt into the air.

  Julian barely saw what sent Rob flying. He ducked and rolled, hurt his elbows on the asphalt but didn’t notice.

  Axrillax came at him.

  The daemon was quick. It was on him in two great strides. Julian threw himself over the bonnet of a car and fell in a heap on the other side. A huge hand swooped through the air near his feet and jolts of electricity made his legs twitch.

  He had almost nothing left. The fight against the outsiders had tired him and the injuries he’d suffered fighting the vampires had drained him. He even lacked the strength to draw energy from the sputtering electrical grid of the service station.