Pennies for the Ferryman - 01 (32 page)

“Nice trick getting my boys to free you.”

Fat Tony pleaded with Shultz,
“Boss, I swear! I didn’t…”

“Shut up! Shut the hell up! I’ll deal with you when I’m done with this punk.”

I started to step forward but Abe must have been playing possum. His hand tripped me and I fell. Then he grabbed my legs.

“Hold him still and I’ll get in there and drive him out.”

Often, far too often in fact, I am forced to use the words “indescribable pain.” It’s a hazard of my new lifestyle, I guess. Either way, it felt like a trip to the dentist without the benefits of anesthetic. My body was on fire and I felt myself half-crawl and half-roll away from Schultz’s goon, who let go of my ankle.

Not being in control of my body was a strange and painful sensation. I could feel my lips moving. “Where are you, you dirty little bastard?”

Mike Ross might not have had much in this life, but damn it all if I was going to let some ghost take my body. There was a heat and energy building inside of me. It was a raw and savage anger – all my pain, all my suffering, and all my rage coalesced into a tangible force.

My voice let out a blood curdling scream, but I wasn’t the one screaming. I collapsed back onto the ground and convulsed like a person having an epileptic attack. Distantly, I could hear Abe shouting. I vomited as my body joined the fight against the intruder.

Ever fallen out of a tree and have that sudden acceleration feeling followed by the impact on the ground? That’s about as close as I can come to explaining it. Dutch shot out of me and clear through the wall.

I wasn’t a really violent guy by nature, but I felt violated on a level that even a rape victim might have difficulty identifying with. My fingers closed around that poker and I literally saw red. I hit Abe so hard with that poker he screamed and when a noticeably dimmed Dutch Shultz staggered back into the house, I met him by jamming the poker right through him and into the drywall.

He screamed again and thrashed while impaled, darkish smoke pouring out of the wound in his stomach.

His eyes bulged and I could have sworn the poker was glowing
. “What are you?”
he gasped already beginning to fade.

“Know what a ferryman is Mister Shultz?”

“No! It can’t be. They’re just a legend!”

“You might be right, Dutch, but my legend is just beginning and yours is over!”

Seconds later the wispy smoke disappeared and I was left staring at a wall with a poker in it. I spun around and looked at Abe and Fat Tony. I don’t know what they saw in my eyes, but whatever it was, it scared them shitless. Landau started to disappear, but I pounced on him before he could. With a strength borne of my rage, I hurled him into The Eye of Horus.

There wasn’t a lot of time to think. Poor Pitman’s body was on the ground. Nothing could be done for him. I snatched my wallet and made sure everything was in it, along with the laptop with all my personal information still displayed on it. The poker and the pistol stayed, though I wiped my prints off of them with a rag. Afterwards, I cleaned up my vomit and dumped some bleach directly on it. It was time, yet again, to tuck my head between my legs and get the hell out of a situation where I was way over my head.

Sadly, it was a reoccurring theme wasn’t it?

Abe and Fat Tony didn’t say a word. Had I not been in such a rush, I would have enjoyed the irony of ghosts being afraid of me, but I was a bit pressed for time.

Shultz’s Hummer sat the driveway. I swallowed the lump in my throat and hopped in. Hopefully, this would end better than my last time driving a Hummer.

I made tracks to the hotel. If I was in luck, I’d be able to get Rusty and get out of there. Otherwise, I’d leave the Hummer at the hotel and catch a bus out of here. Naturally, I wanted that twenty-three hundred dollars from the hotel safe.

As usual, nothing went right for me. Some fat guy next to the desk was screaming into his cell phone to somebody named Cassandra and the receptionist didn’t have any record of me being moved up to the suite. On the bright side, she did have my cash. I used the courtesy phone to call my room, but got no answer. I tried Rusty’s cell phone next, reaching his voicemail.

“Rusty, its Mike, I’ve got to get back home right now. There’s a bit of a problem. I’ll find my own way back.” Rusty was probably having dinner with one of the coeds he’d been chasing.

Turning around, my only hope was that no one was going to Shultz to report. Considering the receptionist was pointing at me and four men all in suits were standing there. It looked like my “winning ways” were continuing. I suddenly wished I’d kept the pistol.

The leader, a tall man in a suit addressed me, “Mr. Ross, Mister Pittman wants to talk to you; we can do this the easy way, or the hard way – your choice.”

Regretting that I didn’t just drive out of state as fast as Schultz’s overpriced guzzler could take me, I followed my “peaceful” escort right back to the holding room where all this started. They didn’t take the laptop, or the cash.

For twenty minutes, I sat there, just waiting. I used the laptop and found it was recognized by the wireless network inside the hotel. Leveraging the mighty power that is Google, I quickly learned the story of Diamond Jim Brady and Lillian Russell.

When the door next opened, I wasn’t terribly surprised to see Mickey Pitman staring at me. He held the door and two ghosts entered. Both possessed that same powerful aura I sensed with Eva. The first was a very attractive woman who appeared to be in her late twenties. Though Miss Russell had died at a much older age, Eva had told me that sufficiently powerful ghosts could choose to appear as they were at any stage in their life. She was quite beautiful and wore a long flowing evening gown and gloves reminiscent of the 1920’s.

Diamond Jim was a small mountain of a man. He was the kind of presence that could really fill a room, both figuratively and literally. He looked to be in his late forties, stylishly attired in a pinstripe suit.

With a rich baritone, Diamond Jim Brady addressed me,
“Good evening, Mr. Ross.”

“Mr. Brady, Miss Russell.” I nodded curtly to each of them.

“Abraham has filled us in on the events of this evening. I must extend my apologies for the behavior of those spirits in my service.”
Abe must be “driving” Mickey now. He didn’t appear very happy.

“I don’t hold you responsible for Mr. Shultz’s actions.”

I figured that I’d be gracious and wait to see if the other foot falls.

Lillian regarded me as if I was a curiosity or some form of carnival act.

“So, this is a ferryman. Are you certain you’re not just a Skinwalker trying to pass yourself off as one? Wouldn’t be the first time I’d heard such a tale.”

“I’d invite you to see for yourself, but when Mr. Shultz tried it was rather painful for both of us, so I’d prefer not to go that route again.”

She nodded,
“Yes, yes. I suppose you are right, dear. It’s just that I’ve never met one before.”

Brady interrupted,
“We don’t want any trouble from a ferryman, Mr. Ross. Not in my territory. If it’s all the same to you, we’d like you to leave and go back to Maryland. You’re welcome to stay the night.”

“That was the same deal Mr. Shultz offered me. I’d prefer to leave this evening, if at all possible.”

“Abraham, get Mr. Ross the rest of his money. I understand you were using a ghost to help you. Under normal circumstances, I’d be angry, but as a gesture of good faith, I’m willing to return the five thousand dollars you stole from me in return for the electronic device you have. It has a good deal of information related to my business ventures in the world of the living.”

“I can live with that, Mr. Brady. Schultz pulled a lot of my personal information — something I didn’t want to leave at a potential crime scene. I’m rapidly coming to the conclusion that being a ferryman isn’t something that one brings up in polite company.”

Lillian nodded sagely,
“You are right to be wary. We heard rumors that there was a new ferryman several weeks ago, but dismissed them out of hand. There hasn’t been a ferryman in these parts in over a century. In our world, some will welcome you; others will fear what you could do to the status quo. I do not envy you.”

They seemed like nice enough folks, though they employed dead mobsters and didn’t mind if the Skinwalkers under them peddle flesh on whatever the hell the “body market” was.

“Have you heard of other ferrymen active in the world?” I figured if the ghosts could band together, I could get in contact with people like me. Maybe we could start a bowling team or something.

Jim answers.
“Only rumors about some among the Europeans. Unlike the living world, our world is not very interconnected. Very few choose to travel beyond the areas where they died.”

“I suppose the exception is the Skinwalkers.”

“Yes, some can’t resist the lure to walk among the living and taste what they once had. Most of them relocate immediately and distance themselves from their previous lives.”

“You hire them.”

He shrugged,
“They have their place. I couldn’t run my territory without them and someone else would move in and take over. There’s a saying your generation uses, ‘That’s just the way it is.’ Like I said, it’s just the status quo.”

It felt very feudal and I didn’t want to correct him. Nowadays people say, ‘It is what it is.’ Either way, we weren’t fighting and that was a good sign. I used this opportunity to get more information. “What can you tell me about the neighboring territories? DC, Pennsylvania, and Baltimore?”

“The capital is a dangerous place; people, power, and politics all in one place. Like the real world, no faction can seem to stay on top for long. I’ve heard the ghosts of Arlington have the most influence right now.”

I was right to be creeped out about Arlington National Cemetery. “What about to the west of Washington?
 
I haven’t met the ghost that claims my territory.”

“Someone affiliated with the Civil War era. He’s a bit of a power broker named Taney.”

The name sounded familiar. “Roger Taney? Used to be a Supreme Court Justice?”

“That’s the one. How long have you been operating in his territory?”

“Since September.” There was a museum for him up in Fredrick. Knowing who my probable enemy was both relieved and frightened me at the same time.

“Unless he’s a fool, he’s at least aware of you and probably looking for you. He brings extra energy into the area and supplies it to those trying to control Washington. He doesn’t take a position in the conflicts, but he’s definitely involved.”

Lillian told me about the Skinwalkers that controlled Philadelphia. Avoiding the City of Brotherly Love sounded like a good idea.

They even mentioned Eva, talking about a matron who controlled an isolated wedge of Western Pennsylvania. I opted not to tell them that I’d met her up close and personal.

“Baltimore,”
Jim says,
“Most everyone avoids it. They say there is a caged spirit there.”

“Do you know what it is?”

Diamond Jim shook his head.
“No. It is only known as The Beast and it existed there long before I died.”

The more I learned about Baltimore, the less I wanted to go there. Between the two, Arlington sounded like a picnic spot.

Once I took my leave of Diamond Jim Brady and Lillian, it took some time to locate Rusty and unfortunately, he was in no shape to drive that night.