“It’ll take more than sage, but yes, if we clear the buildings of the residual energy, I think it would wipe out a lot of these phantom noises and sights. And I think we’ll need to, honestly, otherwise people won’t believe we actually did clear the town of ghosts.”
“I wouldn’t blame them, either, if they’re still having experiences. How much of the remaining activity is due to the ghost gang, do you think?”
“It’s almost impossible to guess. I suspect the more alarming incidents are due to them just because it takes a lot of spectral strength to pull off anything large, more than a singular ghost should be able to manage.” Booker took his glasses off, pinching his eyes closed like he needed to give them a break. “I reached out via some online forums to other ghost hunting groups, reporting the gang activity here, hoping someone else might have seen something similar. So far, though, all comments were requests for more information. No one’s seen the likes of this before.”
“I wonder if joining a ghost gang felt natural to them?” It was a random thought, and I wasn’t sure how much stock I put into it. “They were part of a union in life, so maybe they feel more at ease sticking together?”
“Huh. Maybe it is that simple?” Booker frowned, then typed in a note. “I like the theory. Although, I have no idea what we’lldo to prove it one way or another. I also suspect the ringleader is using their actions to build his own power. If he’s siphoning power from them, using it to twist his own soul into something darker, it could explain why he’s reached this almost-demonic level in such a short time frame.”
“Uh…begging the question, how long does it normally take for a ghost to go demon?”
“Well, longer than a hundred years, unless the soul was a serial killer or something similar in life.”
“Ah. Huh.” I filed that away for later. “I get the feeling we’re going to have answersafterthe case is over, once we have all the pieces.”
“I suspect you’re right. I’m definitely missing about half the puzzle right now. I naturally have much less information on Miner’s Creek, since there’s no one living up there and no cameras.” Booker lifted his shoulders in an elaborate shrug. “Very disturbing, though, what the ghost said about no ghosts returning from there. Makes me wonder what’s going on.”
Eli shuffled through, heading right into the kitchen. She got herself a glass of milk, two cookies, and then started the shuffle back. I meant shuffle, too; I heard her slippers makingshu-shunoises.
Booker observed her. “Okay there?”
She turned to look at him. As badass as she’d been earlier, she was a very different creature now. Makeup off, hair in a crazy bun, dressed in the largest nightgown known to man that dwarfed her. Incredibly appropriately, there was a depleted battery symbol on the nightgown. Eli was at two percent battery at this point.
“I have been in the big world today,” she informed her husband. “And now I need a small space.”
“Got it. Go enjoy your cookies.” Booker was totally laughing internally.
Eli inclined her head to him regally, like a queen dismissing him, and then she continued her shuffle.
When she disappeared into the hallway, I said, “It’s disturbing to me how that brief fight wiped her out so badly.”
“I don’t like it either. And it wasn’t like she was going crazy, throwing around power. She fought like she normally does, but it’s taking more juice to actually do the job.” Booker shoved up his glasses to press fingers to both eyes again. “I am not spiraling, but I do feel like an almost cooked rotisserie chicken.”
“Same, man, same. This case keeps amping up the crazy. In unexpected ways, too.”
“It’ll pass, but I want an ETA.”
We both sighed. Yeah, even trying to guess how long this place would take to clear was truly difficult. We were still trying to get the parameters down for how bad the problem was.
I finished my cookie. “You want another set of eyeballs on it?”
“Later, yeah. I think Eli has the right idea. Let’s call it a night.”
“Sounds good to me.”
We went to bed with a general feeling of grim determination. We had a job to do, and we’d do it, but I didn’t think anyone looked forward to it.
The ranch at least had this outdoor covered patio with gym equipment. I went there for a workout early in the morning, showered, then was back in the kitchen with my mom on speaker while I mixed up some quiche. Between me and Quinn, we ate a lot, so I made up two batches.
Plus bacon. Because bacon.
Mom heard me out and sounded mad as hell—she swore in Tongan for a good minute and a half. “Do you mean theywatched their poor child get hurt, seriously hurt, and still didn’t believe her?Even if she was hallucinating, you don’t ignore that, you take her to get checked out!”
“That’s the part bothering me. If you really thought your child was hallucinating, then shouldn’t a hospital be the next stop? I know the doctors would have tested for psychic ability too, because they have to rule that out, and she would have been in safer hands after all the testing. I honestly suspect her parents knew deep down that she told them the truth, but neither of them wanted to believe in ghosts. It was easier to make her out as this klutzy, lying kid.”
“I’m outraged on Gwyn’s behalf. But you keep her permanently?”
“I keep her until she’s trained and has an anchor.” I corrected my mother, amused by her assumption. “Which is, like, four or five years.”
