GHOST GAL: The Wild Hunt (5 page)

That left the third option. Containment and banishment. This option was certainly the most difficult of the three and unfortunately for her, there was no official handbook explaining exactly how to do that. Oh, there were tried and true methods, but not all of them worked on all spirits. Just like the living, the dead came in all shapes, sizes, and creeds.

This was her first water spirit so she was flying blind.

Then her eyes fell once again on the shelf full of jars. She knew they were important and she thought she understood their purpose, if not how they worked. The jars were different, some older than others, different sizes, different colors, but all used a frosted type of glass and all had tall necks with cork stoppers and thick globs of wax to hold them in place.

“Can you keep him busy a few more minutes?” she called to Joshua, who reclaimed his dropped bat.

“I can try,” he said.

“See if you can draw him away from the shelves.”

“You got it.”

As Joshua ran to the opposite side of the room, waving the bat and shouting to the ghost above, Alexandra moved quickly toward the shelves. Kneeling next to the lowest level, she touched one of the jars. It was cold to the touch and she wondered if the glass was frosted or if
the contents inside were causing the frost. Using her palm, she rubbed the frost off of the one nearest her and peered inside. For long seconds she saw nothing and was beginning to doubt her theory.

Then an eye blinked inside the bottle.

Startled, Alexandra lurched backward and lost balance. Landing on her backside was undignified, but there was no permanent damage done. Only her pride was bruised. There was no time to worry about bruised backsides or pride though. The jar wobbled on the shelf so she moved quickly to steady it. Her guess had been correct.

These jars acted as prisons for ghosts.

“Unbelievable,” she muttered. Both she and her father had often discussed the possibility of creating a containment vessel for those spirits that couldn’t easily integrate into the great beyond or were simply too dangerous to let roam the Earth. Thus far, all attempts at creating a stable containment unit had failed, but now she knew it was possible. Someone a long time ago had learned the secret that eluded her and her father.

Whoever ran the church before the tower was sealed off knew how to imprison malevolent spirits. It was an important breakthrough. Alexandra was excited at the prospect of researching it further. She was equally excited about the prospect of sharing this newfound information with her famed father.

“Alex!”

But first, she and Joshua had to deal with their immediate problem.

“Lead him toward me!” she shouted as she scooped up the empty jar from the floor in one hand and the cork topper in the other. “This way!”

Not needing to be told twice, Joshua was at her side in a shot. “What’s the plan?”

“We’ve got to get him…” she pointed toward the entity that was still eyeing them from high above. “…in here.”

Joshua looked at the jar with its opening of roughly two inches and then up at the ghost who had attacked him. “You really expect to fit that thing in there?”

“Yes,” she said. “All of these jars are full of ghosts just like our friend up there.”

He spun to look at the jars. “There’s dozens of them! Are you
telling me that––?” His voice trailed off and he didn’t finish the thought.

“Yes, I am.”

“This is insane, Alex!”

She smiled again. “That’s what makes it fun.”

“You call this fun?”

Before Alexandra could answer, their shrieking friend summoned up his courage and was once more on the attack. He flew straight toward her and she wondered if it understood what was about to happen. She wasn’t exactly sure she understood it herself.

The water spirit’s facial features shifted as it tried to veer away but couldn’t. As though being pulled by some unseen suction, the water spirit was pulled inside the lip of the jar. It struggled to escape, clawing at the air, the jar, at anything solid it could hold on to.

In the end, it was futile to resist and the ghost was sucked completely inside.

Alexandra slammed the cork in place and held it there with her hands, putting all of her weight on it. From inside, she could feel the ghost pushing against the cork and the force of her hand.

“We need to seal this thing quickly!” she shouted.

“How?” Joshua asked, looking around the room for anything that they could use.

Alexandra pointed with her chin. “The bag!”

He grabbed it and began emptying the contents onto the uneven stone floor. “What do you need?”

“I don’t know! What’s in there?”

Joshua smiled as he pulled a miracle out of the bag.

“Perfect!” she said.

Joshua tore off strips from the sticky fabric-like roll and quickly duck taped the cork to the jar. As an added measure he then wrapped some long strands another few times around to make sure it stayed in place.

Alexandra let go and the cork remained seated firmly in place. Only then did she allow herself a moment to exhale. She dropped to the floor and stretched out her sore legs. She looked across the space at her fiancé and smiled. “Good thinking,” she said.

Joshua held up the roll and shook it back and forth in his grip. “Never leave home without it,” he said with a laugh.

Alexandra joined him and they laughed until their sides hurt. It
had been a close call but they had won and the case was closed. It would bring much needed income to Alexandra’s fledgling practice and word of mouth of her success couldn’t hurt matters any either.

T
he building that housed the OAGI was as nondescript as they come.

Housed on the second floor of a four story walk up not too far from her apartment in Soho, The Office of Angel Guides was one of those places a person could pass daily without noticing, but one that stood out like a beacon when someone required their services.

Alexandra Holzer had spent a good deal of time visiting the OAGI over the years, first with her father and later on her own or with Joshua. Although Joshua wasn’t a fan of the place, Alexandra loved her visits. The OAGI was magical.

Samuel Esau ran the place. She knew it wasn’t his real name, of course, but the man was a master at evading the question each time she asked it. Eventually, she realized it was a lost cause and gave up trying to wheedle the information out of him. Whatever his true name was, Samuel was her contact to The Light.

Thankfully, she liked Samuel.

Joshua pulled the van into the alley next to the OAGI’s building. There was a sign stating that the alley was for loading and unloading only, which never stopped her from parking there. Technically, she was dropping off something this time.

“Wait here,” she told Joshua. “I’ll get Samuel and we can get these things unloaded.”

“Hurry back,” Joshua said, rubbing his gloved hands together to keep them warm. “It’s cold out here and these things give me the creeps.” He chucked a thumb over his shoulder to the cargo they carried.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” she said before disappearing around the corner.

A bell above the door chimed when she entered the second story office. As it did every single time, the sound made Alexandra laugh. Once, when she was younger, Alexandra had quoted a line from one of her favorite movies,
It’s A Wonderful Life
. She had reminded Samuel “every time a bell rings, an angel gets his wings.” She didn’t understand why her friend found that so funny back then. These days she had a
better idea why it made him laugh.

They had been friends ever since.

The office was simple, to say the least, and had changed very little since she had first visited as a child. Wood grain paneling covered the walls, giving the space an earthy feel. The wall to the left of the entrance was covered with a mural of a forest that only added to that outdoorsy feel. Only the cast iron columns spaced along the outer wall were not covered by brown hues and stood in stark contrast to the earthen tones like dull metal trees sprinkled amongst the pines. The off white linoleum floor didn’t match the rest of the room, but it was so scuffed and had faded to a dull yellow patina to the point that it no longer clashed as it had the first time she visited. The OAGI opted for an open floor plan. Except for the bathroom and the back office, there were no full walls in the outer office. That way, whoever was working in the office at any given time could easily see everything. All they would have to do is stand up.

In addition to Samuel, there were a few others who were occasionally in the office. Like her friend, they did not use their real names either. It was funny how they all used very generic, non-exotic sounding names. There was Bob, Jim, Frank, and Steve. She had never heard a last name mentioned for any of them. Samuel was the constant though. And as plain as his co-worker’s names were she often wondered why his name wasn’t just plain Sam. Whatever the case, Samuel was always there when she came in.

Samuel Esau sat in the section that he called home. As always, his desk was cluttered with small stacks of paper and assorted whatnots he had picked up along the way. Samuel was a collector, which she found fascinating. Although Alexandra thought his collection was made up mostly of junk he had picked up here and there, Samuel seemed to hold onto each piece for special reasons all his own.

Samuel was also a contradiction.

Considering his profession, Alexandra was surprised by his laid back manner. Unlike his opposite number at the OESI, Samuel wore khakis and tropical shirts rarely buttoned all the way up. He sometimes wore sneakers, but more often than not it was flip-flops, even in the winter. His hair was disheveled and as it grew longer, began to curl and frizz around the edges and a few strands were almost always dangling over his eyes. Plus, from the look of his scruffy face, he hadn’t touched
a razor in at least a week, maybe more. A pair of sunglasses capped off the look, whether they were on his eyes or atop his head. Samuel definitely looked like he belonged with the bohemian artists and creators who made Soho their own.

Whether due to his appearance or his character, the locals had embraced Samuel as one of their own and he certainly fit in with the Bohemian Lifestyle that so many of the artists living in Soho called their own. Alexandra knew he liked to paint and that he was quite skilled at it. His landscapes, especially, were good enough to hang in a gallery exhibit, although he never accepted such invitations. Painting was something he did for the sheer joy of it. Most of the time he gave his paintings away to people he met along the way. Alexandra prized one of his landscapes she had hanging in her tiny living room.

Alexandra also lived in the area. She was not quite as freewheeling as some of her more esoteric neighbors, but Alexandra was no wallflower either. She often wondered what her artistic neighbors, or the local ladies that swooned over him, would think if they knew exactly what Samuel was or what he truly did for a living. Then, she wondered if any of them would actually care. Somehow, she hoped none of them would, but the actions of supposedly enlightened people often surprised her.

“Well, when that day comes you are more than welcome to tell me you told me so,” Samuel said into the telephone as she walked in. He had his bare feet propped up on the desk as he leaned back casually in his tattered desk chair. As soon as he heard the bell ring, he turned to see who had darkened his door. When he saw who was walking in, he smiled. “I’ll have to call you back, brother,” he said into the phone as he dropped his feet back to the floor and sat up a bit straighter. “Someone just came in. Sure thing, man. You just remember what I said, all right? We’ll talk later. Bye.”

She smiled and waved even as he motioned for her to come on in.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t my favorite ghost hunter,” Samuel said as he walked over to meet her.

“Flatterer,” she said, trying to hide the light blush in her cheeks.

“I am what I am,” he said, a big smile in place. Not for the first time, Alexandra noticed just how handsome Samuel was, despite his lack of effort to look the part. His beauty shone through no matter how disheveled his outward appearance.

They embraced in a big bear hug like brother and sister.

“It’s good to see you, Samuel,” Alexandra said. She had tried calling him “Sam” a few times over the years, but it didn’t seem to fit. He was “Samuel.”

“You too, angel,” he said. As they pulled apart, he ushered her into his office. “So, how have you been?”

“I’m good.”

“Keeping busy, I see?”

She smiled. “There doesn’t seem to be any shortage of work these days. You wouldn’t happen to have any insight into that, would you?”

Samuel shrugged. “Everybody loves New York, I guess.”

“Even if they’ve been dead a few dozen years?”

“What can I say? It’s a happening town.”

“It’s certainly keeping me hopping,” she said as she dropped tiredly into one of the nondescript chairs in his office. “There’s been no shortage of work for me lately.”

Samuel sat down opposite her and leaned back in his chair so far that she feared it might topple over. “I take it this isn’t a social call, then,” he said, unconcerned by the precariousness of his position.