Pennies for the Ferryman - 01 (37 page)

“I was no party to Darren’s demise. I genuinely liked the man. One of the other officers spoke to General Reynolds before I could. The General took that Lieutenant and several other ghosts over my protest to attack Darren. At one point there was a burst of energy and only Darren and General Reynolds survived that confrontation. The other four ghosts were destroyed and Darren died less than an hour later.”

Whatever Darren did, it must have cost him dearly. Still, it must have been impressive. “And that’s why Taney doesn’t want to outright fight with me? He’s going to test me to see what I’m capable of?”

“Correct. He is wary of you, but knows that he’s in a unique situation, but I am getting ahead of myself. Darren, as you well know, did not cross and seemed to have difficulty adjusting. He became increasingly manic and the Lord Justice ordered that we take him into custody and observe him. Darren became certain that ‘Ross’ was coming. How he knew, I cannot say. My guess is the same way that the spirit of William Poe knows that you are coming. Either way, we kept Darren starved of energy because he was a threat. He spoke of merging with you and enacting his revenge on us all. When you arrived, I think he actually tried to possess you, but only having a rudimentary understanding of the technique and being greatly weakened, he failed. I did what I thought was necessary.”

Again my skeptical side reared its ugly head, “A lot of this isn’t adding up, Vincent. Taney was obviously blaming Reynolds for our ‘bad blood,’ now you’re laying Darren’s death and what happened afterwards on both Reynolds and Taney. How does that explain Karla?”

“I heard Porter’s last words to you as well. Upon reporting to General Reynolds and Justice Taney, it was decided that Miss Thompson should be located and whatever information she held recovered. I was assigned the task as punishment for what they considered as a failure when you first arrived.”

“That doesn’t excuse the way she was treated!”

“No, it does not. Mr. Ross, you were a soldier. There is a vast difference between the soldier of the present day and those that served under me in the War Between the States. The Articles of War in my time could fit in the pocket of your jacket, while your Code of Military Justice is the size of Mister Webster’s dictionary. Things that are considered atrocities in the present day, like looting, were simply tolerated then as a method to keep your forces equipped and on the move. My new command consisted of soldiers who represented the worst my era had to offer – from craven cowards to bloodthirsty madmen. They took liberties with Miss Thompson and enjoyed tormenting her, especially when I was away delivering my reports to the General. The General visited the property several weeks before you arrived and instructed the men that they were to use any and all means to extract the information from her. She was greatly wronged and I am truly sorry for my part in it.”

“And yet, you turned a blind eye to it!”

“I am bound to serve the Lord Justice’s orders for as long as he controls my focus. His orders included obedience to General Reynolds.”

“Did he have the same hold over the General?”

“No.”

“What are Taney’s orders concerning me?”

“To not engage you at this juncture. However, he did not say that I cannot approach you. Justice Taney is a careful and deliberate person. He will consider the best course of action several times before acting, but mark my words, he will act.”

Our conversation lasted long into the afternoon, causing me to miss the rest of my classes, but I didn’t care. Arriving home, I sat on my bed and tried to sort what Colonel Strong Vincent said and how much I was going to believe. Given that he’d twice tried to kill me, I wasn’t exactly about to offer him the title of “Mike’s new best friend,” but even if he was dealing in half-truths, it worried me. My inherent distrust of officers and lawyers didn’t make it any easier.

I wasn’t a great thinker. My brain usually got all tied up in knots when I thought too much. Clarity, when it comes, was often during physical exertion, so I went out to the garage and went after the heavy bag with a vengeance. Don wandered through the wall after about twenty minutes.

“Mike? You’re home a little early. Any problems?”

“No. Just couldn’t get into higher learning today. What’s new and exciting?” Maybe it was just my imagination, but Don did look brighter, though the garage wasn’t exactly well lit to begin with despite the ball of ‘spook juice’ floating in the corner.

“Not really. Most of the places I visited in Virginia were under the thumb of the folks at Arlington National Cemetery. I’ll keep looking. How about you?”

With the adrenaline pumping and my temper flaring, I wasn’t thinking things through. I should’ve followed through with the half-formed plan of getting Elsbeth to meet up with Vincent’s scout and verify the truth about Don. I shouldn’t have said anything without a handful of iron in my hand and my sword at my side.

Instead of “oh not much” what came out of my mouth was, “What are you doing with that female Skinwalker?”

Not one of my smartest moves.

The expression on Don’s face was all the confirmation I needed. He was guilty and now we both knew it. Like a hockey player I shed my workout gloves as he leapt over and started draining the ball of ghost energy
. “I didn’t want it to be this way Mikey.”

“What the hell’s going on Don?” I closed quickly while he was glowing brighter. He gestured and several hand weights zipped towards me. I dodged a couple, but a little two pounder hit me smack in the gut, knocking the wind out of me. Don was already on top of me with his long reach. I was immediately on the defensive as we exchanged blows. He was fast, strong, and ‘juiced,’ but I wasn’t a slouch either. He used jabs to keep the distance and sent a couple of knee level kicks at my reconstructed leg.

No, he hadn’t given any thought about how to fight me. My leg protested against the blows, but I stepped through the pain to keep him from getting that much force behind his leg. We traded what must have been a dozen punches at close range. After the flurry of blows, he tried to push me away – probably to set up a kick. I grabbed and swept his leg pulling us both to the ground.

Our grunts, groans, and shouted obscenities mixed as we rolled around on the unforgiving concrete. My hand closed on a Phillips head screwdriver and I jammed it into his side. He yelped in pain and I pulled it out to give him the same “tenderizing” treatment that I’d given Charlie Snowden, when I saw Don’s right hand with something in it, filling the corner of my eye. I barely recognized the five pound barbell that close, but knew that it was going to hurt.

What must have been an hour later, I came to. I was groggy and my head throbbed. I couldn’t see the ball of energy anymore. Don must’ve taken it and run. I’d deal with him later. Right now, I needed to get inside and get cleaned up.

Once inside, I walked straight into the kitchen instead of the bathroom. Okay, maybe I wasn’t thinking clearly. Man, my head was throbbing; add another concussion to my list of injuries.

Imagine my confusion when I picked up the phone and dialed a number. What the hell was I doing? A female voice answered.

“Cassie, Mike caught wind of us. I had to ‘walk him.”

“You dumbshit! The deal isn’t finalized. Damn it to hell! Can’t you do anything right? Shit! Shit! Shit!” the female voice yelled.

“I’m sorry Cassie. What do I do?”

God, did I really sound that pathetic?

“Okay, make sure to keep him wearing your anchor and with all that extra energy you should be able to hold onto him. Meet me in Baltimore as fast as you can. I’ll start heading there now to finish the negotiations with Poe. Understood?”

“I won’t let you down, sweetie.”

Her tone changed from petulant and demanding to silky sweet in an instant. Though I didn’t recognize the voice, I knew the tone. Don was talking to his wife, Sonya Hodges.

“I know you won’t, Don. That’s what I’ve always loved about you. You’re so determined.”

I’d been Skinwalked! Don was going to take me to Baltimore!

As Don took me into the bathroom and I got a good look at the bruise, complete with a reverse five shaped impression on my left temple, I did what freed me from Dutch Shultz. I pooled all my anger, pain, and betrayal and forced it through my veins like it was some kind of drug.

My own voice answered me. “Nice try Mikey, but it’s not enough. Not with me wearing my dog tags on your body, juiced with all this energy. Oh I’m sure if you kept it up for a day or two, you’d break free. Problem is, that’ll be too late.”

A damp cool rag wiped at my face. It reminded me of the sponge baths I’d gotten in the hospital. I wasn’t in control! I tried again…and again. Don laughed at me.

“I guess you have a right to know. Cassandra isn’t just her stage name. It’s the real name of the Skinwalker that’s been driving Sonya all these years, Cassandra Von Eckel. Remember how I said she was always into that occult shit? She was preparing me to be a Skinwalker – dying in Iraq just accelerated her plan for me; it’s how I got so powerful so soon after death. When she heard rumors about a ferryman through the Body Market in Philly, she wanted to have a look-see. She came up here and discovered it was you, of all people. Don’t that beat all! Well, since ‘Recon’ is my middle name, she sent me up here to figure out everything I could.”

Don’s explanation wasn’t really that much comfort. It did, however, give me the reason that Sonya always rubbed me the wrong way. All those questions he’d been asking me…the bastard was pumping me for information about myself.

“Man, you’re pissed aren’t you? Want to know something funny? Who do you think killed that Snowden fella? That’s right Mikey! Cassie wanted to see how good you were and I convinced old Charlie there that he needed to kill you. Funny, it wasn’t really that hard. I was standing on the other side of the wall at that hotel, listening to that S.O.B. beg for help.”

Talk about kicking a man while he’s down! Don sent Snowden after me like some kind of damn test.

“Oh don’t be such a whiny bitch, Mike. Anyway, as soon as you told me about the thing in Baltimore, Cassie did some recon of her own while we were in Atlantic City. Man, you wouldn’t believe how ticked off she was when I told her I’d lost you.”

The angry fog lifted long enough for me to realize that in Atlantic City, the guy in the lobby getting yelled at on his cell phone was Don.

“Oh you saw that! I’ll admit it, I’m whipped, but I got someone, Mike. Look at you! You’re such a loser! That Candy chick is hot for you and you manage to screw it up every time. All those plans I was helping you make and you never saw a thing! Way I see it – I’m doing you a favor. You wouldn’t have lasted very long in our world – you’re too weak and way too stupid.”

It was bad enough that he’d stolen my body, but did he have to insult me as well? He’s just trying to beat down my resistance and make me give up. I wasn’t a loser!

Don finished cleaning me up. I grinned at myself in the mirror. “Close but not close enough, loser. I’m not going anywhere and you can’t make me. Now how about we take ourselves a little ride up to Baltimore? There’s a family reunion waiting to happen and you’re the guest of honor!”

We” walked into my bedroom to change. “If we get there soon enough, I might even let you hit that little hottie Cassie is driving around now before we get to the main event. What do ya say Mikey? One last meal for the condemned man?”

Funny, I didn’t really feel all that hungry at the moment.

Episode 11: A Judicious Use of Force

There’s that old saying about how you need to walk a mile in someone else’s shoes. Well, it blows chunks when the “someone else” happens to be me and the shoes were attached to my now-possessed body.