The Impossible Coin (The Downwinders Book 2) (7 page)

Well, you are famous,
Winn
said,
according to Marty. He’s my friend. He says every gifted around here
knows about you, so I guess at least some of them are going to try and meet
you.

McGraves proudly straightened
himself from the wall, and the blood coming out of his chest increased, slowly
spreading across the floor.
I don’t mind the occasional visit, but goddamn, kid
after kid coming in here, asking me the same questions, trying to graduate from
some ridiculous fucking school? I won’t have it. You swear you’re not part of
it? I’ll cut your balls off, if you are!

No, I swear,
Winn thought.
So
you can control how you appear to different people? None of the others in the
tour could see you.

I can control a great many
things,
McGraves said.
I’m extremely powerful. If I’d appeared to the
others, they’d all run off screaming. I knew you were gifted, and as I said, I
thought you were part of that infernal Academy, so I tried out my new look on
just your eyes. If you’re not part of that Academy, then why did you sneak in
here?

Marty thought I should come
here to see if you could help me.

So you’re just another fucking leech,
wanting something?
McGraves said, brandishing the knife again.

Well, he said you were an
expert on silver,
Winn thought.
He thought you might be willing to share
your knowledge about something.

McGraves lowered the knife and
smiled. He turned and rested his back against the wall of the pantry, his feet
just inches from Winn’s.

I am an expert, the greatest
expert for miles,
McGraves said. He raised his chin.

Well, I came across something
recently. It’s a coin, a nickel. Marty said that its date and mint are an
impossible combination, that the coin shouldn’t exist. He thought you might be
able to figure it out.

Figure it out?
McGraves
asked.
What do you mean, figure it out?

Well, maybe you might know
where it came from? And why it has special powers?

It has special powers?
McGraves
eyes went wide.
Let me see it. Give it to me.

Winn looked at McGraves
suspiciously.
Marty said I can’t give it to you. No matter what you say.

If you don’t give it to me, I
can’t tell you anything about it. Hand it over, you little shit.

Marty said you’d say that, and
it’s a trick. He said you always try to steal metal things from people, to keep
for yourself.

It’s not true. You give it to
me, I’ll tell you want you need to know, and I’ll give it right back to you.

Marty said you’d say that, too,
but that you’d really keep it instead.

Who is this fuckhead Marty?
McGraves bellowed.
Why isn’t he here, irritating me in person?

He’s my friend. He’s on the
tour.

Well, how am I supposed to help
you, if I can’t touch it? I haven’t even seen it. You might be making all of
this up, for all I know.
McGraves raised the knife again, pointing it at
Winn.

Winn dropped out of the River,
reached into his pocket and slowly removed the coin. He placed it on his palm
and showed it to McGraves, reentering the flow.

Looks like an ordinary goddamn nickel
to me,
McGraves said.

It’s not,
Winn replied.
Watch
what happens when I hold it like this...
Winn dropped out of the River,
picked up the coin between his fingers, and waited while the feelings developed
in his stomach and exploded throughout his body. Then he jumped back into the
flow.

Where did you get it?
McGraves
asked.

In a cave not far from my
trailer,
Winn answered. Winn saw how McGraves was eyeing the coin, wanting
to take it from him. He intended to protect it, so he placed it back in his
palm and closed his fingers around it. McGraves slowly shut his eyes,
concentrating. Winn didn’t know if he should say anything or not.

Ah, I think I know who gave it
to you,
McGraves said, opening his eyes and smiling at him.

Who?
Winn asked.

A liar, that’s who,
McGraves said, sliding closer to him.
A dirty liar who got what he deserved.
Someone who made promises cavalierly. Someone who ought to have known better. I
despise liars!

Who?
Winn insisted.
Tell
me!

You’re wasting my time,
McGraves said, staring at him.
I could be liberating the coins from the
pockets of the people out there, but you’re in here toying with me.

I’m not toying with you!
Winn said.
I really want to know.

You already know! You’ve
already seen him!

Winn racked his brain, trying to
figure out what McGraves was referring to. In the cave he’d seen only two
figures; the man who was praying, and the man who was bleeding the mountain
lion.

Do you mean the men in the
cave?
Winn asked.

Why would you need to come see
me if you already knew that?
McGraves asked, his eyes narrowing to slits.
You
are
from that goddamn Academy, aren’t you?

Why would he give me a coin?
Winn
asked, ignoring the accusation.
I don’t understand.

It was Father Kino, you dolt!
McGraves
bellowed, exasperated.
You met the most famous ghost in all of Arizona, next
to me, and you didn’t even know it!
Youth!

Who is Father Kino?
Winn
asked.

Couldn’t stay awake in history
class?
McGraves asked, smirking.
Father Kino was the one who conscripted
the natives to work in his mines. Brilliant, really. He amassed a fortune
before the Apaches descended upon him, angry at him for using Indians as
slaves. He’s the one who hid the Escalante treasure! The Iron Door mine! I spent
years looking for it, myself. Tell me, did you see an iron door anywhere in
this cave?

No,
Winn said, his head
swirling with the information McGraves had imparted.
We didn’t go to the end
of the cave, though. We stopped when we ran into the… ghosts.

His legs were bleeding, weren’t
they?
McGraves hissed dramatically.
Bleeding, torn, ripped open?

I saw blood,
Winn said, a
little scared by McGraves description of Father Kino.

And he was praying, wasn’t he?
He was praying to God, begging for protection from the Apaches that had chased
him into the hole in the ground, the ones who had speared his calves? The
Apaches were ruthless and brutal. They’d slit your flesh open and let you bleed
to death slowly. His legs had been tortured, hadn’t they? He was in that cave
hiding, hoping they wouldn’t find him.

He was speaking in Spanish,
Winn
said.
Marty told me he was praying. Asking for his wounds to be healed.

And so they were, miraculously
healed. He walked with a limp, but at least his prayers were answered, and he
lived. He promised that if God would protect him from the Apaches and heal him,
he would return and make that cave a holy monument. That’s not the kind of vow
you break, especially when it’s granted and you walk out of there, alive and
healed.

He broke the vow?
Winn
asked.

McGraves turned to him, angry.
Goddamn
it boy, don’t be stupid. Did you see a shrine at that cave? Was it a holy
monument, like he promised?

No,
Winn said, frightened
by McGraves sudden temper.
There was nothing there.

He failed to fulfill his vow! So
when he died years later, God took his soul and trapped it in that cave,
McGraves
said dramatically.
A penance for breaking his solemn promise. Now he’s
forever locked in that place, begging to be healed for eternity, doomed!

Why’d he give me the coin?
Winn asked.

He thinks everyone who comes
into that cave is wounded and needs healing, just like he was,
McGraves
said.
The coin heals, does it not?

It seems to,
Winn said.
Marty
said it made his back pain go away. It just makes me feel really good.

Padre Kino probably detected
that you were gifted, and would know what to do with it,
McGraves said.

Winn looked down at the coin,
confused.

That cave is probably a good
source for objects,
McGraves said to himself.
I’ll have to mention this
to Warren.

But why did he think I was
wounded?
Winn asked.
I was fine. It doesn’t make sense.

Nothing makes sense since they
bombed the hell out of Nevada, boy!
McGraves said, standing up. Blood
dripped down from his soaked clothing, splattering around Winn and making him
cower more tightly against the pantry wall.
The radiation fucked up
everything. He was probably just a normal ghost in that cave, trapped there for
eternity, then BAM! Fallout hits, and suddenly he can spawn Callers and cut deals
and all kinds of fucked up shit.

Callers?
Winn asked.
What’s
a Caller?

The man you saw draining the
blood from the mountain lion? That’s a Caller. He was feeding Padre Kino. He’s
not from the past. He was there, real-time, repaying his debt.

What debt?
Winn said.
I
don’t understand!

“Winn! Winn! Are you in there?”

McGraves whipped his head around
at the sound of the voice.
Who’s that now?
he said.

That’s Marty,
Winn replied.
He brought me here. He’s looking for me.

Finally, the famous Marty,
McGraves
said, turning back to face Winn.
Give me the nickel and I’ll let you leave.

If you’re a ghost, I can just
walk right through you and leave,
Winn thought.

McGraves removed the knife from
his chest once again, and pointed it at Winn.
You can try, he said, waving
the knife in the air, but I’ll cut your balls off if you do!

Winn dropped out of the River and
McGraves’ features instantly blurred. He could see the crack of light from
under the pantry door, shining through McGraves’ body. He stood up and walked
forward, convinced that McGraves was bluffing. The puddle of blood that
McGraves had created while he’d been in the pantry with Winn was extensive, and
Winn couldn’t see any way to get out without stepping in it. He gently placed
his sneaker into the blood, hoping that since it was ghost blood, it wouldn’t
ruin his shoes. As he reached McGraves he paused briefly, then walked through
the apparition, feeling only a cold chill.

“Winn!” he heard from outside. He
reached the door to the pantry and opened it, and walked to Marty who was
standing on the other side of the velvet rope, looking over his shoulder to see
if mansion staff had observed him. “There you are! It was more than twenty
minutes, so I came looking. Quick, get over here so we can leave!”

Winn slid under the rope and stood
up on the other side, next to Marty. “I met him!” Winn said.

“Come on,” Marty whispered. “You
can tell me all about it once we’re out of here!”

They quickly walked through the
remaining rooms of the mansion and out the back door. As they were leaving, a
tour guide noticed them exiting the building and stopped them.

“Sir, are you with a tour group?”
an older woman asked. She looked down at Winn suspiciously.

“We were with the last group,”
Marty said. “My nephew here decided to look for a bathroom and ran off. I just
found him.”

“Well, the bathrooms are in that
building over there, in what used to be the guest house,” she said, pointing to
a small bungalow about a hundred feet away. She leaned in toward Marty and said
quietly, “You need to clean him up.”

Marty pulled back from her,
surprised. He looked down at Winn, not seeing anything wrong. He looked back at
the woman, who merely stared at him and raised her eyebrows. He looked at Winn
again, and let himself drop quickly into the River. Winn’s shoes were soaked
with blood.

“I presume this means there’s a
mess in the kitchen,” she said. “I’ll take care of that. You get that stuff off
him, pronto.”

“Thank you, I will,” Marty said,
ushering Winn in the direction of the bathroom.

“What stuff?” Winn asked Marty.

“You’ve got something all over
your shoes,” Marty said as they walked.

“No, I don’t!” Winn said,
inspecting himself.

“In the River, kiddo,” Marty said.
“Was McGraves bleeding?”

“Oh, yeah,” Winn replied. “He had
a knife in his chest and he kept pulling it out. Blood would gush everywhere. I
had to step in it to get out of there.”

“Well, we need to get it off you
right now,” Marty said, hauling him into the restroom. It was mercifully empty.
Marty went into a stall and checked the condition of a toilet, and flushed it.

“Put your shoe into the water, and
shake it around,” he said.

“In the toilet?” Winn asked. “No
way!”

“The water is clean,” Marty said.
“And it’s the quickest way to get most of it off you. It won’t get it all, but
it’ll get enough that we might not attract any Z-flies.”

“Z-flies?” Winn asked.

“Wash your shoes, and I’ll tell
you,” Marty said. “Come on, I don’t want someone to come in here and see us
doing this. Hurry it up.”

Winn carefully positioned his
sneaker over the open bowl of the toilet, and gingerly lowered it until it
touched the water. Then he let it sink in a quarter inch, and moved it back and
forth.

“Z-flies are attracted to ghost
blood, just like mosquitos, but thankfully, unlike mosquitos, they’re a lot
rarer,” Marty said, reaching to flush the toilet. Winn watched as the water
swirled around his shoe, washing the invisible ghost blood away. He lifted his
shoe to remove it from the bowl, but Marty stopped him.