GHOST_4_Kindle_V2 (24 page)

I had a clear line of sight to the clinic’s front doors. I willed the Netherview to begin. The road vanished. The sidewalk, the trees and shrubs, the mailbox, and the street signs—all dematerialized in moments, becoming a sunless twilight full of phosphorescent elements. And I saw pretty much what I expected to see hidden in the nether at an abortion clinic.

A formidable, gothic-styled iron fence surrounded the property. The Shades had claimed it as a stronghold, and it would remain theirs until taken by force. Beyond the gate, a few agonizingly twisted, leafless trees stood guard like sentries in front of a faintly luminous structure. This stronghold was a castle in theory, but there was nothing at all romantic about this place. The towers leaned. The parapets were angled and framed by jagged merlons and gouged crenels. The gatehouse was misshapen, and the portcullis looked as if it had been made to tear flesh. It was an utterly ugly structure, but it was home to my quarry.

Shades, and lots of them. Roamers, nesters, prowlers, haunts, and thorns meandered across the property and were more heavily clustered at the stronghold. I didn’t see any Knightshades, but I expected them to be inside. Unwilling to reveal my presence for too long, I snapped off the Netherview. The clinic and its property reappeared.

I’d never attempted to storm a stronghold this well-fortified, but today, I just didn’t care.

I’d called ahead: the clinic closed up at 5:00. It was quarter till. I probably should have come right after closing, to save myself the wait…and avoid the thoughts I’d have to deal with. I drummed my fingers on my silver case and watched the clinic. The moments ticked by like molasses.
 

Smiling Jack had used a turn-of-the-century abortion instrument to kill his victims.
 

The message seemed clear enough: Abortion is murder. Was that it? I cringed inwardly. I’d been given this mission specifically, but I didn’t want it to turn out the way it seemed to be heading. Could it be as simple as a deranged Pro-Life activist going to severe lengths to show the reality of abortion?
 

While the news media took every chance it got to make all Pro-Lifers seem like violent, fringe psychopaths, I knew better. But there were a few. And that was a few too many. Those who assaulted abortion docs or shot up clinic windows were doing nothing to help a very just cause. And the worst of these were the ones who committed crimes and claimed to do so in the name of God.
 

I glanced up at the clinic and shook my head. Trouble was, I completely understood the motive. Children had been slain in places like this…by the millions. It was a holocaust that no one had the courage to recognize and stop. All the terrible dangers of the world: disease, sickness, famine, weather, etc.—things that could take the lives of the very young—and yet, mankind had the despicable temerity to murder its own. And then call it a
right
.

My blood was already boiling at six minutes to closing, when the clinic doors opened. I sat up a little straighter. A male nurse with very hairy forearms came out, slowly pushing a woman in a wheelchair. I couldn’t tell how old the woman was. She had her head buried in her hands, and her hair made a curtain around her face. Her head bobbed slowly, and I felt my heart breaking. It was clear what she’d been through. And I knew what she’d have to face in the time to come.
 

The male nurse had wheeled her about half way down the front walk when a brown SUV left the clinic parking lot, pulled into the circle, and parked at the curb. A big man got out of the vehicle. He was barrel-chested, dressed in a too-tight black t-shirt and military-styled camouflage pants. His hair was a disheveled, rooster feather mess, and a trail of gray cigarette smoke followed him to the curb. He stood there, glaring at the approaching woman. And, I could scarcely believe it, but the man was actually tapping his foot.

I wanted to go over there and leave a four-knuckle tattoo on the guy’s jaw, but that kind of thing was mostly outside the purview of my mission. I pushed down the rage, reminded myself that I had bigger fish to fry, and did my level best to be patient. In a few minutes, the clinic would be closed. A few minutes after that, the doctors, nurses, and assistants would clear out, and then, I could go in.

The woman in the wheelchair screamed.
 

I snapped to attention, thinking maybe the cammo-jerk had smacked her, but she was still twenty yards away from him. She seemed frantic, shaking her head and swinging one hand around. That’s when I willed my Netherview once more.
 

The scene changed, and I knew instantly what had the woman so distraught. Shades surrounded her. Two roamers and a half a dozen thorns whirled about the woman. They darted in and out slashing at her with their talons and claws. These were not physical wounds, I knew. They were spiritual…many times more dangerous than damage to the flesh. The Shades were taunting the woman relentlessly. They were tormenting her.

That was more than I could take.
 

I opened my silver case. I withdrew my three favorite tools: the PNP, the Edge, and the Cat. I locked the case in the car, put the Edge and the Cat in my two deepest pockets, and tucked the PNP into my waistband where it would be hidden by my coat.
 

I strode towards the woman, and I can only imagine what I must have looked like to them. Big guy, bulging pockets, mad at the world, stomping up the sidewalk. But I couldn’t be deterred by anything. I was taking a big risk in more ways than I could count. I had to be purposeful.

And absolutely lethal.

I switched back and forth between Netherview and Earthveil as I approached. The Shades so far were too busy making sport of the woman to notice my approach. They would notice soon enough.

The male nurse looked up first. “Excuse me, sir, can I help you?”

I thought fast. “John Spector, United Health Services,” I said, holding out my badge and shiny shield. “I’m sorry I’m a little late for the observation.” I flicked on Netherview. The Shades were tangled in the woman’s hair. They were biting and scratching.
 

“Could I see that badge, sir?” Back to Earthveil.

“Of course,” I replied, handing him the badge. The second he took the badge and his eyes left me, I flipped to Netherview and found myself glaring at a gaping roamer that was half entangled in the woman’s hair. Its face was human…if you took a human’s face and yanked strategic features with a pair of industrial strength pliers. I pulled the PNP from my waist band and let the big nasty roamer have it right in the kisser.

I pulled the PNP trigger, and in Earthveil, in strong daylight, all anyone would’ve seen is a little wavering shimmer in the air, and all they might’ve heard is a kind of a muted click. In Netherview, there was a flash of green light and a thunderous roar. The PNP launched a disc filled with particle nether, a pulsing, lugubrious substance. It was an incomplete recreation of the fabric of the spiritual world, but because it was incomplete, it would instantly consume anything spiritual that it contacted.
 

The roamer’s face melted like the Wicked Witch of the West at her baptism. Its headless carcass fell away, and its essence—an oddly beautiful mist of sparkling crimson and deep purple—began to whirl in a vortex, being drawn inexorably back to the Abyss. Another roamer leaped at me. It took a PNP round in the groin. I didn’t watch how much of the creature disintegrated. All I know is, once the pieces started flying, I switched back to Earthveil.
 

The male nurse handed me back my ID and shield. He hadn’t seen any of the spiritual action. “I don’t actually see United Health Services on here,” he said, looking hesitant, like maybe he didn’t want to take chances with his job. “But…uhm, I’m not sure, I mean there wasn’t supposed to be…anyway—can you tell me what this is about, sir?”

I subtly slipped the PNP behind my back and into the waistband of my shorts, grabbed up my billfold with a flourish, and said, “Again, sorry about the delay. I got called back to the office, and then traffic was a bear.”

He didn’t say anything at all but waited for me to actually answer his question. I’d stalled as long as I could. Every second of Earthveil was a moment the Shades could advance without me tracking them.

“Nurse Griggs,” I said, noting his name tag and adopting an attitude of vast superiority. “You realize the recent legislation demands that you inform each patient of the potential physical and emotional side effects that may result from this procedure. You have signed documents, correct?”

“I…well…I, I…”

I took his babbling for a pause, switched to Netherview, just as two thorns burrowed into the flesh of my cheeks. Thorns are winged creatures about the size of a man’s palm. Trust me when I say you do not want these things burrowing in your flesh. Shades of this ilk grappled quickly for tendons and bones.
 

The nurse wouldn’t be able to see the things, of course, but I turned away briefly out of reflex…and to hide the pain. I managed to pluck the creatures free, but not before they had gouged and shredded a few things. My smile would be a little off until I found some time to reset. The thorns wriggled furiously in my hand, tearing at my fingers in a vain attempt to get free.
 

I crushed them, one in each fist, letting their remains slip to the concrete. Three, maybe four seconds had passed. I spun around quickly just in time to see the two remaining roamers disentangle from the woman’s hair and launch toward me. But I could hear the male nurse’s voice as if from a memory.
 

“Hey, bro, you okay?”

I had to go back to Earthveil, but the roamers were a heartbeat away from knocking me off my feet. They left me no choice.

I yanked the Edge from my pocket and switched it on. Its ethereal blade buzzed to life. In the same moment, I turned my vision back to Earthveil.

“Dude, you looked really strange for a minute there,” the nurse said. “Hey, why are you smiling like that?”

I lifted the Edge, slashed it forward in a couple of quick cuts and then made like I was pointing over the tree line in the distance. “Sorry,” I said, wristing the Edge back and forth. “I just remembered I left some important equipment back in my office. See? That gray building over there?” I made a real show of pointing.

All the male nurse saw was a peculiar silver baton in my hand. In broad daylight, the blade itself wouldn’t show but a glimmer. I’m sure the roamers saw quite a bit more.

“Anyway,” I said, retracting the blade and slipping the Edge back into my pocket, “I’ll have to come back another time to complete the inspection.”

“Whatever you say, man,” the nurse replied. He wheeled the woman past me.
 

I nodded and willed back Netherview. The sidewalk was littered with the carved up remains of the roamers. I’d dispatched them blindly, but efficiently. And, for now at least, there were no Shades troubling the woman in the wheelchair.

In Earthveil, I saw her sitting up a little straighter. She was putting her hair up in a ponytail. I hoped that my efforts would afford the woman a little peace though I knew all too well that it would be merely temporary.

She bore a Soulmark.

I’d seen it in Netherview, a small but virulent red gouge in the center of the woman’s forehead. It was shaped like a comma, and it meant the woman had been hurt. Not hurt physically, not necessarily, though it might have been. No, this was a wound to her identity, a wound to the essence of who she was, a wound to her soul.
 

It’s like spiritual scar tissue. Without redemption, the Soulmark would fester and begin to leak tendrils of agony and guilt. Like blood in shark-infested waters, the Soulmark would attract Shades to the woman. And they would torment her again. I had no idea what circumstances had led the woman to the abortion clinic, but I knew the damage done to her was far more than physical. I’d given the woman a few hours of relief. Nothing more.
 

I let out a long, tired sigh. I’d come to the clinic to spend my rage. And I’d spent it. I was wounded and tired and wanted nothing more than to get in the car, drive back to a motel, and get a long shower. But resetting would have to wait. By slaying a handful of roamers and thorns, I’d just walked up to a Shade Stronghold and rang the front doorbell.
 

They’d seen me in my Netherviewing, and they’d seen my deadly handiwork. If there were Knightshades inside the clinic, they had no doubt been notified of my presence.
No,
I corrected myself.
I hadn’t rung the front doorbell. I’d thrown a rock into a hornets’ nest.
I could get in the car and drive away, but it wouldn’t matter. They would follow.
 

I walked slowly back to the car. I’d need more clips for the PNP and a few other tools from my silver case. The rage had subsided, but I had little choice but to face the stronghold.

When the last of the clinic’s employees left for the night, I’d go in. And then, all hell would break loose.

Chapter 22

The sun had gone down rapidly, almost as if it were getting clear for the events to come.
 

I watched red tail lights flash angrily as the last clinic employee drove away. That was my signal. I left the car.
 

And no being choosey this time, either. I took the entire silver case, and I was ready to use each and every weapon inside. The Edge, the Cat, the PNP, Slammers, and more—an arsenal in the right hands.
 

I was ready to go to war.

Netherview is incredibly vivid at night. All the luminous elements of the spiritual realm take on an eerie brilliance.
 
I looked up at the abortion clinic, but saw only the Shade stronghold with all its wicked angles and jagged edges. A cluster of Shades waited near the ethereal gatehouse.
 

That surprised me.

I thought the moment I switched to Netherview, I’d find myself surrounded. But no, they hung back. I guess they figured they didn’t need the element of surprise. It was their home turf. They knew how to protect it.