The door swung open, and Wyatt appeared wearing a long black robe over his clothes. He had the lit marijuana in one hand and a lighter in the other. “Follow me. I used up all my good rolling paper. This one burns too fast and sometimes goes out.”
Crush followed the Gravewalker down the dark hall. Usually the guy had on one of those beanie hats, and now he could see why. His brown hair was wavy and stuck out all over the place like it didn’t know how to behave. Kind of like him. “Hell of a place you people have here. Creepy as shit.”
“Tell me about it. You should have seen it when there were specters in every hall. I couldn’t even turn a corner without one of them surprising me with their dangling eyeball or nasty threats.”
“I thought you dealt with dead people every day?”
“I bet you deal with assholes every day, but it doesn’t mean you want to spend your time around them.” Wyatt held in his breath after sucking in the smoke. “It’s not my job; just my gift. I’m the technical guru around here. Do you think I want to spend all day summoning the dead and dealing with their drama? I’m all booked up on crazy.”
“Never thought about it like that. Can you call any spirit?”
Wyatt howled with laughter and then patted Crush on the back. “You watch too many movies. I see them; sometimes they find me. But I can’t just throw down a Ouija board and dial a number. Once the spirit moves on, they’re gone for good. If they stay behind, sometimes they’ll hang out at the cemetery. Not usually. Only the creeps live there—the freshies who are still in denial. They think if someone digs up their body, they can jump back in it.” He turned in to an open entryway that didn’t have a door. “Here we are.”
Crush watched Wyatt light every candle in the room with the lighter. There were curtainless windows up ahead and two pool tables. Bookshelves lined the corner wall on the left where there were several reading chairs, a brown sectional, and a small table.
“We got several rooms we hang out in,” Wyatt said. “I usually keep an extra tablet around here. Check the cushions on the couch.”
While Wyatt continued lighting up the room, Crush ambled over to the sitting area on the left and stuck his fingers between the brown cushions. He lifted the pillows, and on the connecting couch, he found a black tablet. “Got it.”
Wyatt took out a cord and something else from his pocket and connected it to the tablet. Then he set it on the other pool table.
“What’s that?” Crush asked.
“My handy-dandy portable charger. I recently got these so people would quit charging up their phones in my office when I’m working. Needless to say, it hasn’t stopped them.” Wyatt puffed on his marijuana. “How about a friendly game?” Without waiting for an answer, he racked the balls. “Do you want a beer? There’s a cooler under the bar, and the hard stuff’s on the lower shelf.”
“I don’t drink.”
“That’s right. What about smoke?”
“A cigar, if you got one.”
Wyatt took another drag. “Shepherd might. All I’ve got is a little grass.”
Crush walked up to the table and looked up at the low-hanging candle chandelier. “You guys have something against electricity?”
“Ask the boss. He thinks it’s a distraction that separates us. He’s from the Old World,” Wyatt said, using air quotes. “You know how seniors are. Always talking about the good old days when people sat around watching yeast rise.” He took the quarter off the table. “Heads or tails?”
“Tails.”
The coin sailed in the air and landed in Wyatt’s palm. When he flipped it over on top of his other hand, he groaned. “Your break.”
Crush grabbed a stick off the rack and chalked it up. “I guess it makes sense. You’d have one hell of an electric bill if you had to light up this house.”
Wyatt grabbed a tall chair from the bar and dragged it over near the table. His eyes were glazed, and he had a real mellow personality. “We have a few rooms wired up, but they’re mostly on the second floor. Except for a few down below. You really can’t get bored around here. We play games, watch TV, throw knives—”
“Do drugs.”
Wyatt snorted. “That’s just me. I need something to take the edge off, and I’m a walking hexagon.”
Crush leaned over and lined up his shot. The white ball cracked against the others, sending them in every direction. He sank two. “Solids,” he said, walking around the table.
“We also have a gym and rock-climbing room. Rollergirl was asking about a bowling alley or skating rink. A bowling alley would be out of sight. I can only play so much pool, and it’s no fun playing darts with Niko.”
“Why’s that?”
Wyatt licked his finger and then pinched out his joint. “Clearly you’ve never played with the biggest hustler in the game of darts. Don’t ever make a bet against him. I’ve seen Niko land three darts in the same spot. I’ve figured out how he can see their locations on the board. He listens to the crowd reaction and looks at the energy left behind on the dart.”
“I thought he was blind?”
