Forces from Beyond (13 page)

“Peek-a-boo!” he said. “I see you.”

He hit the door again; and the heavy wood split from top to bottom.

“What the hell is he made of?” said Melody.

“I think, flesh from the Flesh Undying,” said Happy. “It gave up some of itself to make a weapon it could send after us.”

“We angered it when we sent the submersible to look at it,” said JC. “It wants to shut us down, before we tell anyone else how to find it.”

The jagged crack in the door widened, under the relentless hammering of inhuman fists. Splintered wood bulged inwards, straining away from the door-frame. One of the steel hinges exploded off the door, its screws flying through the air like shrapnel.

“Why isn’t the Flesh Undying attacking us directly?” said Melody. “The way it killed all those people at the convention?”

“Because we have protections,” said JC. “Things the Institute taught us before we were allowed out in the field. And God alone knows how many layers of protection Catherine Latimer has acquired down the years. No wonder the Flesh Undying can’t find her.”

“I have to say, I don’t feel very protected right now,” said Happy.

“Come with me,” said JC.

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He led them down the corridor and up a narrow stairway at the end. He turned on more lights as they stepped out onto the next floor. More dull yellow illumination, more shadows. JC ran his hands along a bare wall and pushed back a concealed sliding panel, revealing electronic controls set into the wall. He hit a big red button, and smiled briefly as the controls came alive with blinking, coloured lights.

“Good,” he said. “The main power supply is still connected. I always meant to install my own generator, just to be on the safe side, but I never found the time . . .”

His hands moved confidently across the controls, and he nodded, satisfied.

“All right,” said Happy. “What did you just do?”

“I armed the place,” said JC.

“Good,” said Happy. “Armed is good. Armed sounds very good. What does that mean?”

“I’ve activated all my old traps and deadfalls,” said JC. “Simple, brutal, and very nasty. The Faust is going to regret invading my fortress.”

He did his best to sound positive, but Happy and Melody just looked at him. JC led them to a solid steel door, that opened with a combination lock, and into a great open loft space. The door locked itself behind them, and JC opened another wall panel. More controls, more flashing lights, and a whole wall of monitor viewscreens lit up, displaying scenes throughout the building. There was no sign of the Faust, as yet. Melody walked slowly along the wall of screens, her gaze jumping from one image to another; and then she turned to look sharply at JC.

“Who did you think was coming after you?”

“I added a lot of this after I joined the Institute,” said JC. “Because I always suspected a day like this might come.”

“We had so much in common,” said Happy. “And I never knew.”

Melody pointed suddenly at one screen. The Faust had smashed through the outer door and was standing in the entrance corridor.

“Should we be running again?” said Happy.

“Let the booby-traps do their work,” said JC.

They watched as the Faust moved forward. A trap-door opened right in front of him. He saw it in time and jumped lightly across the gap, for all his size and bulk. As he approached the stairs at the end of the corridor, machine-gun barrels emerged from both walls and opened fire. The Faust soaked up the bullets and moved on. He took the stairs two steps at a time; and a thick yellow gas pumped out of the walls from hidden vents. The Faust paused to breathe in deeply. And then he smiled and continued on. There was something deeply disturbing, in his refusal to be affected by what should have been deadly threats. Like something out of a nightmare that just keeps coming, something that you only escape from by waking up.

“Whatever he’s made of, it definitely isn’t from around here,” said JC, trying to keep it light, and failing.

“These are all . . . mechanical traps,” Melody said slowly. “No exorcism grenades, no ghost cages; none of the things you’d need to defend yourself from the kind of things the Institute might send after you.”

“This was in case people came after me,” said JC. “Bad people. I have another fortress, to defend me from more spiritual threats.”

“It’s like finding out I have a brother I never knew about,” said Happy.

“Bad people?” said Melody. “Guns? Poison gas? Who were you, JC, before you joined the Institute? What were you?”

“A conversation for another day,” said JC.

He gestured at one of the screens. The Faust had reached the top of the stairs. He stepped onto a metal grille in the floor, and electricity arced through him, lighting up the corridor bright as day. The Faust laughed amidst the lightning, and moved on.

“We’re not even slowing him down, never mind stopping him,” said Melody.

“I know,” said JC.

“Look at the arrogant bastard,” said Happy. “He’s enjoying himself. He’s not even breathing hard.”

Melody looked at Happy. “You look like shit. Do you need to sit down?”

“It wouldn’t help,” said Happy. “Hey, maybe we should let him eat me? There are so many unstable chemicals in my system now, even his flesh wouldn’t be able to cope!”

“Let’s leave that as a last resort,” said JC.

“Well, obviously I didn’t mean eat all of me . . . A little of me would go a long way . . .”

Melody glared at JC. “Don’t you have any real weapons stored here?”

“Nothing that would affect the Faust,” said JC. “He was made to be unstoppable. And this . . . was only supposed to be a hiding place. Where I could hold out, while I called for help.”

“Whom were you going to call?” said Melody. “If you were on the outs with the Institute?”

“I hadn’t thought that far ahead, all right?” said JC. “I always thought I’d have more time. Or, at least, more warning; I never thought my world could fall apart so quickly.”

“I did,” said Happy. “And I was right. Do you have any idea how vindicated I feel?”

“What do you want, a round of applause?” said Melody.

“That would be nice, yes,” said Happy.

JC pointed at a screen. The Faust was standing on the other side of the steel door. He looked it up and down and smiled.

“Tell me you remembered to lock the door,” said Melody.

“It locks automatically,” said JC.

“Of course it does,” said Happy. “I love that door. Good door.”

“He’ll never break through that,” said JC. “I don’t care what he’s made of now. It’s solid steel. Cost me a small fortune to install. There’s no way the Faust can break through that door . . .”

They watched, as the Faust stepped forward and placed both hands flat against the door. And then he lowered his head and pushed, putting all his strength into it.

“He can’t . . .” said JC.

The Faust strained against the door. The solid steel stirred under the steadily increasing pressure, then jumped forward—blasted right out of its frame. It fell onto the floor, unbroken but broken loose, and the deafening sound reverberated through the open loft. The Faust strolled into the room and smiled at the three Ghost Finders.

“Knock knock.”

“JC,” said Melody. “What else have you got? Tell me you’ve got something else.”

“Nothing,” JC said numbly. “That was it.”

“You must have something!”

“No! Nothing! That’s it!” JC glared at the Faust, standing smiling in the open doorway. “It’s not fair. Nothing human can be that strong.”

“I told you,” said Happy. “He isn’t human. He’s channelling the power of the Flesh Undying.”

“And looking good doing it,” said the Faust. “Love what you’ve done with the place, JC. It’s so you.”

He looked around him, studying the surroundings with great interest. Just to show he was in no hurry.

“Is there by any chance a back door?” said Happy.

“Several,” said JC, fighting to keep his voice steady. “But we can’t use them.”

“I think you’ll find I can,” said Happy.

“If we run, he’ll follow!” said JC. “We have to figure out a way to stop him here. Or at least throw him off our trail. Because we can’t risk leading him to Catherine Latimer.”

“Why not?” said Melody. “She might be able to take him. I’d back her against most things.”

“If the Faust knows where she is,” JC said steadily, “then the Flesh Undying will know where she is. And who knows what it might send, then . . .”

“Oh,” said Melody. “Yes. Got it.”

“You can’t stop me,” the Faust said pleasantly. “But please feel free to try. I love to see a victim struggle.”

“We can’t stop him,” said Melody. “No equipment, no weapons . . . we can’t stop him!”

“There’s nowhere else to go,” said JC.

“You know what he’ll do if he gets his hands on us,” said Melody.

“I’m thinking!” said JC.

The Faust laughed out loud, to see such fun. Happy turned suddenly to Melody.

“Have you still got that tech thing you put together, to shield us from technological surveillance?”

“Of course,” said Melody. She produced it from inside her jacket and held it out before her.

Happy studied it carefully. “There’s . . . a signal, for want of anything better to call it, moving between the Faust’s body and the mind that animates it. I can feel it.”

“But that’s psychic energy,” said Melody. “My device relies on . . .”

“Doesn’t matter,” said Happy. “It’s all just energy. And I think that if I concentrate my telepathy through that tech, I can generate something strong enough to disrupt the animating signal.”

“That sounded almost scientific,” said Melody.

“Comes from hanging around you so much,” said Happy.

“But what would that do to you?” said Melody. “To your . . . weakened system?”

“Nothing good,” said Happy. “But nothing compared to what the Faust has in mind for us. Don’t need to be a mind-reader to know that.”

“I like him,” the Faust said cheerfully. “He’s funny. I love it when the prey actually thinks it has a chance. Are you planning one of those last-minute miracle solutions? I love it when they go wrong.”

“Shut up!” said JC. “Happy, do you really think this will work?”

“Beats the hell out of me,” said Happy. “But at the very least, it should buy us some time, so we can get out of here.”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” said JC. “Go for it.”

Happy took out his silver pill box, and carefully selected a red and two purples. Melody winced.

“That’s a dangerous combination, Happy. Can your heart handle it?”

“It’s a tough old muscle,” said Happy. “I’m more concerned about what this will do to my little grey cells. What I have done to my brain chemistry I wouldn’t do to a dead dog. Oh well, down the hatch.”

He dry-swallowed the pills, and veins stood out prominently all over his face. His eyes bulged, and he breathed deeply. He grabbed the piece of tech from Melody, and concentrated on it.

“Work, you bastard!”

“All right,” said the Faust. “Enough is enough. Let’s get this show on the road. Now for the fun part—when bones start breaking, the blood flows, and the screaming starts.”

“JC,” said Happy, without looking up from what he was doing, “I need you to buy me some time.”

“Why did I just know you were going to say that?” said JC.

“I don’t know,” said Happy. “Maybe you’re psychic.”

They both smiled briefly at the old joke, then JC stepped forward to face the Faust. Melody started forward, but JC waved her back.

“No, Mel. Guard Happy.”

She nodded stiffly and stepped back again. JC looked at the Faust, still coming forward with bad intent, smiling his devil’s smile. JC looked at the open doorway behind the Faust. He was pretty sure he could dodge past the Faust and make a run for it. But he couldn’t do that. He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and gave the Faust his best cocky grin as he moved to block the Faust’s way; and the Faust was so surprised, he actually stopped and looked thoughtfully at JC.

“You’ve probably heard this before,” said JC. “But size isn’t everything. I’ve always put my faith in low cunning, lateral thinking, and blatant cheating. Like this . . .”

He took out a pair of heavy, brutal brass knuckles, and slipped them on his right hand.

“Blessed,” said JC. “And cursed. Just the job, for when you need to be sure nobody escapes the beating they’ve got coming.”

“Is that it?” said the Faust.

JC took off his sunglasses, and the golden light from his altered eyes spilled out into the room. The Faust flinched away from the golden glare but still stood his ground. He made himself turn his head back, to look at JC. He wasn’t smiling any more. JC went forward to close with the Faust, moving so lightly across the bare wooden floor it was almost like dancing. He darted in and hit the Faust square in the face with the brass knuckles. Blessed and cursed metal slammed into the handsome face, and the cheek-bone broke and shattered under the impact. The Faust’s head snapped around, but he didn’t cry out. And when he turned his face back, the broken bone had already repaired itself. JC hit him again and again, in the face and in the sides. Bones and ribs broke, and just as quickly re-formed themselves. The Faust stood there and took it, letting JC wear himself out. And the moment he slowed, the Faust grabbed JC’s arm, picked him up, and threw him half-way across the room. JC hit the ground rolling to try and soak up some of the impact, but he still hit hard enough to knock all the breath out of him. The pain was so bad it scrambled his thoughts. He rolled slowly over onto one side, trying to get his feet under him, as the Faust came forward. Smiling again.

Kim appeared out of nowhere, to stand between the Faust and her man. She wore a pure white gown, and her long red hair crackled around her. She looked like a warrior woman out of legend. The Faust stopped, as she glared at him.

“You stay away from my boyfriend!”

The Faust laughed softly, delightedly. “Hello, little ghost girl! I was hoping you’d show up. Look at you—such a tasty treat . . . I could gobble you right up.”

JC forced himself up onto one knee, fighting off pain and weakness with desperate stubbornness. “Get away from him, Kim.”