Haunt Dead Wrong (19 page)

‘Go!’ I yelled. ‘Quickly!’

As good ghostly intentions went, mine were up there with the best, surely guaranteeing me a pass through the pearly gates should the opportunity ever arise again. Sadly, not all ghosts are cut
from the same cloth. Bradbury didn’t see him as he kicked open the driver’s door, the train almost upon him. Nor did he catch sight of the flame at the end of that long, dark pole,
emerging from the dark arch of the railway bridge like the lure of an angler fish. But when the skeletal body and stovepipe hat separated from the shadows and danced toward the wreck, Bradbury saw
the Lamplighter alright. The phantom was silhouetted by the onrushing light, terrible eyes burning with wicked glee. Bradbury tried to rise from the wreckage, screamed for help, for forgiveness,
but it was too late.

The Lamplighter leapt, the train whistle screaming at his back, his limbs twisting into impossible positions. Pinning Bradbury back into the Bentley, the spectre burbled over his victim like a
hideous, hungry spider. My killer’s cries were of pure, unadulterated terror; not at his impending death, but the promise in the Lamplighter’s blazing gaze of horror and hell that
awaited him in the great and grim beyond. I turned away as train hit car, Bradbury’s bloodcurdling screams carried away down the tracks along with the Bentley.

The children’s ward was a peculiar place after dark. By day, there was a positivity that was missing elsewhere in the hospital. Perhaps it was the unrelenting chipperness
of youth, the glass half-full mentality that the older, more poorly patients struggled to capture. The relentless blare of computer games and duelling televisions rang out down the halls. Sure,
there were some ill kids there – and I’m talking
really
ill – but even they managed to find the fun between the traumas and treatments. However, come nightfall it was
lights out. Electronic mischief was banned and a curfew called on capering. The quiet was broken by crying, sobs splitting the silence and echoing down dark corridors. Away from home, from parents,
sick and scared; as sleepover venues go, hospitals rarely make the list.

I stood at the foot of Dougie’s bed, watching him sleep. Not so unusual; I’d spent the last eight months doing that very thing, permanently awake while he slumbered. That’s a
ghost’s lot in un-life. We don’t get to sleep. A living human being would be driven insane having to endure my nightly routine. But for me, it was part of the gig. Dougie’s
present condition wasn’t, though. Patched up, head bandaged, wired up with a drip in his arm; there was no getting used to seeing my best mate like that. It hurt like hell just to look at
him, but I couldn’t pull my eyes away. I wouldn’t leave him alone. I wanted to be there when he woke up. He was going to wake up, wasn’t he?

‘There’s a special word for a guy like you.’

I turned to find the Major stood behind me, just off my shoulder. I shrugged sheepishly. ‘I’m no hero.’

‘I was going to go with Jonah. It’s like you’re
cursed
or something! How many loved ones can you get into one hospital?’

I appreciated the gentle ribbing. I missed it with my regular tormentor, Dougie, out of action.

‘How’s he doing?’ asked the American.

‘He’s sleeping a lot, which is understandable. Overheard what the doctors said; he has broken ribs and a fractured skull. Bradbury really put the boot in. Plus he’s popped the
stitches on his shin, silly sod.’

‘Jeez, he really went to bat for his pa, didn’t he?’

I nodded. ‘Saved Mr Hancock from an even worse beating. He’s paying for it now, though.’

‘He’s alive, ain’t he? That’s something. And his old man?’

‘He’s in a ward in the east wing.’

‘A family affair, huh?’

‘He’s been kicking off with them, wanting to come over and see his son. Sounds like they’ll wheel him over in the morning.’

‘You went over to see him?’

‘Yeah. Like Dougie, he’s in a bad way. Right leg in a brace and suspended over his bed. Busted kneecap, broken fingers and a dislocated jaw. I swear, they’re both lucky to be
alive.’

‘And the femme fatale . . .?’

‘Femme-what now?’ I said, before realising who he was on about. I blushed. ‘Oh. You’re on about Lucy.’

She was in another of the children’s wards, her folks having ensured she had a private room. I wasn’t entirely sure what it all meant for her relationship with Dougie. I’d a
good idea though, having caught the glowering looks and furious words Mr Carpenter had unleashed upon arriving at the hospital and hearing reports of the night’s events. His daughter’s
abduction followed by near-death crash and subsequent train-car-inferno were not going to reflect well on my pal. It was safe to assume Dougie and Lucy’s romantic adventure was firmly up in
the air.

‘I heard the nurses say she’d be out tomorrow. Seems she’s doing better than anyone. Probably a blessing she’s suffering amnesia.’

‘So you went over there, to old man Hancock and your buddy’s beau without Sparky here?’ The Major looked impressed.

‘Yeah, a weird thing happened. Seems I’m not tied to Dougie any more. Whatever kept us together like Siamese twins seems to have upped and vamoosed. It was when Bradbury turned up at
the Hancock house. Something switched in my head. The minute Dougie fought back I realised why I was still here,
who
I was supposed to be haunting. Following my mate night and day had led me
to his father and the Bentley, and ultimately to Bradbury. He was the one I was meant to haunt all along.’

‘And he’s gone now,’ said the Major, patting my back. ‘How do you feel about that?’

How
did
I feel? I hadn’t given it much thought, being too preoccupied with my friend’s fate. Those odd occasions when I’d thought back to that awful night left me
nauseous. The beatings, the car crash, the Lamplighter and Bradbury’s screams. I may have been a ghost but those scenes would haunt me to the end of my days, whenever they finally came.

‘I try not to think about it.’

‘Understandable. But what of your tricksy predicament? With all that’s passed and the bad man dead and gone? How do you feel now?’

‘Kind of . . . empty, I suppose. If I expected his death to bring some kind of closure, I was mistaken. If anything, it’s just thrown up more questions.’

‘Like what?’

‘Well, why haven’t I moved on? I thought my killer’s demise might be my ticket out of here. But here I am, going nowhere fast. I was convinced that if I solved my death and set
wrongs to rights that I’d be sorted. Bang! Out of here. Yet here I sit, still waiting for the call.’

The Major sighed. ‘Son, I don’t have the answers, I’m afraid.’

I chuckled. ‘You never do. Unless the question pertains to swing music, retro hair products or the films of Jimmy Cagney—’

‘Up to and including summer of 1943,’ he added. ‘I’m not so strong with my movie trivia after that . . .’

‘Funny that,’ I said, twigging the reference to his own untimely death. ‘I wonder what happened to him.’

‘Who?’

‘Bradbury.’

‘He’s dead, ain’t he? Couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy.’

I shook my head. ‘But where did he
end up
? What’s
his
punishment for all the terrible things he did in his life? Does he simply blink out of existence, swallowed by
death’s vast darkness?’

‘Cheery thought.’

‘Or is there a reckoning? Does he pay for those crimes?’

The Major clicked his teeth ruefully. ‘I like to think that a monster like the Lamplighter knows exactly what he’s doing. There’ll be a special place in hell for Bradbury, kid,
don’t you worry about that.’

I shuddered at the thought. ‘Is that it then?’

‘What do you mean, Will?’

‘This. Us. Being here, left behind. Did we not tick all the boxes for the big guy upstairs? Did we come up short when the winners’ names were read out? Why else would we be cursed to
stay here in limbo when others can move on?’

‘We’re not
cursed
, Will,’ said the Major, seizing me by the arms and turning me so we were face to face. ‘This is a gift, son. A second bite at the apple, if you
will. We’re not being punished. We have a job to do. We’re left here to do some
good.
’

‘And the Lamplighter?’

‘Well,’ the Major shrugged. ‘Different big guys leave different agents behind to do their work. But never doubt that you serve a purpose here.’

‘Which is what?’

‘Damned if I know,’ said the Yank. ‘Which brings me to this.’ He hugged me, hard. Well, as hard as one ethereal being can hug another.

‘What was that for?’ I grunted.

‘That’s goodbye,’ he said, pulling away and straightening my trailing scarf. ‘You’re gonna be OK, you hear?’

‘I don’t follow,’ I said, ever slow on the uptake. A second later and I understood all.

She stood at the end of the corridor by the lift, waiting for him. Like us, she shone with the same, pale blue hue. Oddly, though, she wasn’t a frail old lady any more. I didn’t know
how any of this ghosting nonsense worked. I probably never would. Ruby Hershey was young again, her stylish hair tied up, her hospital nightgown replaced by a vintage polkadot dress. She smiled at
me and waved. The Major waved back.

‘Ain’t she a picture?’ he whispered, his grin dazzling.

‘She’s that and then some.’ I wasn’t lying. If the Major thought he could’ve been a movie star, then the flickering image of Ruby Hershey could’ve just
stepped out of the silver screen. If I wandered the planet to the end of time I’d never see a more beautiful woman.

‘How do I look?’ he asked, jutting his jaw out and dusting down his uniform. It was my turn to straighten his tie.

‘Like a million dollars. Now go kiss your girl.’

He walked into the corridor, turning on his heel as if he were on parade. Ahead, behind Ruby, the lift doors slid open, revealing an incredible light within. It bathed the woman entirely, almost
swallowing her right there and then, but she was going nowhere. She was waiting for her man. Ruby extended a hand and beckoned him. The Major paused, and looked back to me. He clicked his
fingers.

‘What?’ I said.

‘Y’know . . . you could join us.’

‘Join you?’

‘Of course,’ he said, a look of sheer bloody-minded joy illuminating his face. ‘What’s stopping you?’

Good lord. He was right. What
was
stopping me? Here was my chance, the thing that I’d missed the night I’d died. I was already walking, leaving the ward and heading into the
corridor.

‘Do you think they’ll mind?’ I asked, unsure of who “they” even were.

‘What’s the worst they can do? Chuck you out on the ground floor? Come on, Will. Step in line and leave the talking to me.’

He winked.

I laughed.

He set off toward Ruby and the light, me just off his shoulder. The closer we got to the glowing doorway, the more I was enveloped by its radiating warmth. It was the sun and I was a speck of
sand on the beach. I could swear, at that moment, beyond that magical portal, I could hear the sea lapping upon a distant shore. I could hear
Yellow Bird
being played by a steel band,
accompanied by merrymaking and laughter. Turns out heaven was Antigua. The Major walked ahead of me, looking back when he noticed I’d stopped.

‘What?’ he asked, the smile slipping.

‘I can’t.’

‘You . . . can’t? Of course you can. Here, take my hand.’

He extended it toward me. I could just seize it, right there and then, let myself get led out of there. But that wasn’t who I was. It isn’t who I am.

‘Unfinished business,’ I whispered. Now it was his turn to catch
my
drift.

‘Ah,’ he said, looking past me, back down the corridor to the ward we’d departed. The ward in which my best friend lay in a fitful, troubled sleep. ‘Unfinished
business.’

‘It’s not just Dougie.’

‘Then what? You do
want
to move on, don’t you? On to something better? Brighter?’

‘You know what,’ I said with a smile. ‘I’m not sure I do.’

The Major looked dumbstruck.

‘Everybody’s been banging on about how I should move on to the next world, wave goodbye to limbo, when the truth of the matter is nobody ever asked me what
I
wanted. I’m
a teenager, Chip, or at least
was
before I died. My time on earth had been fleeting, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it. It was only just beginning and then –’ I snapped my fingers
‘– it was finished. Snuffed out. That’d be game over for most anybody else, but for whatever reason – Dougie, his father, Bradbury – I got another bite at the
apple.

‘I may be dead but I’m not done living. There’s still stuff I can do here. I can
help
people, be they alive
or
mortally challenged. You showed me more than anyone
that one can have a purpose in un-life. And besides, it looks like there might be a vacancy here . . .’

I winked at the Major and he smiled back. Removing his US Air Force peaked cap he passed it across, dropping it on to my head. It was the strangest sensation, the ghostly object feeling as real
to me as a corporeal item against one’s flesh. I hooked my thumb and pushed the visor up and out of my eyes so he could see my grin. The baton had been passed. The Major snapped his heels and
made a sharp salute.

‘It’s been my absolute pleasure to serve with you, Will Underwood.’

‘Shake a tail-feather, Yank. You’re keeping your date waiting.’

He turned and walked into the light, the doorway already narrowing, drawing them both in. I had to turn away, the sheer intensity blinding me. If I’d had eyeballs they’d be pooling
in their sockets. And like that, it was gone. The corridor was dark again, the gloom only broken by the occasional flickering ceiling light or a nursing station computer monitor. I backed up,
returning to the foot of my best mate’s bed. If there’d been a chair, I’d have sat in it. Instead I climbed on to the bed and lay down beside my dear friend.

‘Muppet.’

I closed my eyes and listened to Dougie breathe. I tried to remember what it felt like. To sleep. To dream.