The Supernaturalist (5 page)

‘Sleep is what she needs now,’ said Ditto. ‘Better than any medicine.’

Cosmo could have done with a few hours himself. A lot had happened in the minutes he’d been awake, but there were a few things he had to know.

‘Who are you people?’ he asked. ‘What’s going on here?’

Stefan was repairing what was left of his bouquet with tape.

‘We live here. So I think the question is, who are you?’ Fair enough.

‘Cosmo Hill. When you found me I was escaping from the Clarissa Frayne Institute for Parentally Challenged Boys.’

Ditto laughed. ‘Cosmo Hill. You were found on Cosmonaut Hill, right?’

‘Yes. That’s right.’

‘The orphanages have been using that tired old trick for centuries. I once knew a man from San Francisco called Holden Gate. Guess where they found him.’

‘Marshal Redwood will come looking for me and Ziplock.’

Ditto shook his head. ‘No. As far as the authorities are concerned, you’re as dead as your friend, Cosmo. I worked in an orphanage sickbay for a couple of months, before I found out what goes on there. All the orphanages, and other human trade institutes, use microtrackers
in your pores to keep an eye on their residents. That rooftop generator would have fried any tracers in your skin. You’re clean and clear, a non-person.’

Cosmo felt the worry lift from his shoulders like a physical weight.

‘Now it’s my turn. Who are you?’

‘Who are we?’ Ditto pointed dramatically at Stefan. ‘This is Stefan Bashkir. A second-generation Satellite City native, of Russian descent. I am Lucien Bonn, also known as Ditto, due to my annoying habit of repeating whatever people say. And Mona Vasquez I believe you already know.’

‘So we know each other’s names. But what do you do?’

Ditto spread his arms wide. ‘We, Cosmo Hill, are the world’s only Supernaturalists.’

Cosmo grinned weakly. ‘What? You don’t like clothes?’

Stefan couldn’t help smiling. ‘That’s naturists, Cosmo. And nobody does that any more, not with the ozone layer spread thinner than cling film. We call ourselves Supernaturalists because we hunt supernatural creatures.’

‘Not me,’ interrupted Ditto. ‘I’m a medic. I try to heal people, that’s all. I leave the hunting to Stefan. He’s the one with police academy training.’

Cosmo glanced at the sleeping girl. ‘What about Mona? She’s not police. Not with that tattoo.’

‘No,’ agreed Stefan. ‘Mona takes care of transport. She’s had some… eh… training in that area.’

Cosmo nodded. So far everything had been straightforward enough, but he felt that his next question would open up an entirely new world.

‘These supernatural creatures. What are they? I suppose you mean the blue ones on the rooftop.’

A frown cut a slash between Stefan’s eyes. ‘Exactly. The Parasites have been preying on us since God knows when. Sucking the very life from our bodies. You know, you’ve seen it. Not everyone does.’

‘You called me a Spotter.’

Stefan took a seat opposite Cosmo. He was a charismatic figure. About eighteen with haunted features. His jet-black hair stood in unruly spikes and a pink scar stretched from the corner of his mouth, giving the impression of an impish grin. An impression that did not match the pain in his eyes. Eyes which were probably blue, but to Cosmo, they seemed blacker than outer space. It was obvious that Stefan was the leader of this little group. It was in his nature. The way he slouched in his chair, the way Ditto automatically turned to him, even though the Bartoli Baby was several years older.

‘There aren’t many of us,’ said Stefan, looking Cosmo straight in the eyes. It was an effort not to look away. ‘Not enough to be believed. It doesn’t help that most Spotters are kids; maybe our minds are more open. Ditto is the only adult Spotter I’ve come across, if you can count Ditto as an adult.’

‘Oh? Did Stefan make an actual joke?’ said Ditto,
reaching up to punch Stefan in the side. ‘Not actually funny, but not bad for a first attempt.’

Stefan grasped his side in mock agony. ‘You’d never seen the creatures before that night on the rooftop, had you, Cosmo?’

Cosmo shook his head. He’d remember.

‘The sight usually comes after a near-death experience and I think what happened to you qualifies as a near-death experience.’

‘About as near as you can get,’ added Ditto, rapping the plate in Cosmo’s head.

‘Usually the sight goes again just as quickly,’ continued Stefan. ‘But sometimes, when the new spectrum is opened, it stays open. Sometimes for a week, sometimes for good. You could lose the sight tomorrow, or in ten years, or never. You’re a rarity, Cosmo. Your choice is to be a rarity with us, where it will do some good, or go back to Clarissa Frayne.’

What choice? Cosmo would take his chances with a thousand Parasites before returning to the orphanage. A person can only take so many medical experiments.

‘I’d like to stay.’

‘Good,’ said Stefan. ‘You’ll need courage and determination to be part of this little family.’

Family
, thought Cosmo, I’
m part of a family
. Stefan used the word lightly, but to Cosmo this was a very big deal.

‘We’re a family?’

Stefan hoisted Ditto off the ground. ‘Yes, this grumpy little man is Grandad. And Mona is our kid sister. It’s a dysfunctional group, but we’re all we have. We’re all anybody has. Sometimes it seems that we can never win, but we save who we can. You, for example. If it hadn’t been for us, that Parasite would have sucked you dry and no one would have ever known.’

‘They can suck us dry?’

‘Of course, it’s what they live for.’

Cosmo shifted on the stool. ‘Then they could be here any minute.’

Stefan’s good humour disappeared. ‘No, this is the one place you’re safe. We insulated the walls with hydro-gel. Parasites don’t like water. There’s even gel between the glazing.’

‘But as soon as we step outside?’

Stefan shrugged. ‘Then we’re fair game.’

‘Things have changed over the past year,’ explained Ditto, opening a bottle of beer. He slugged deeply and belched. A blond boy drinking beer. It was a bizarre sight.

‘Ditto’s right,’ said Stefan. ‘It used to be that the Parasites would only show up at night. At the scene of accidents or at hospitals. They would find someone at death’s door and leech the remaining life force right out of them. The doctors never suspect a thing. It’s how they’ve stayed hidden for so long. That monster you had on your chest the other night, probably sucked five years off your life before we popped him.’

Cosmo rubbed his chest instinctively. ‘But now?’

‘But now, nobody is safe,’ said Stefan bitterly. ‘For some reason there seem to be even more of them. The rules have changed. They can strike any time, anywhere, at anyone. The Parasites come calling if they sense even the slightest injury.’

Cosmo swallowed. ‘So how do you fight something like that? How do you kill ghosts?’

Stefan pulled a lightning rod from inside his jacket, spinning it between his fingers like a cheerleader’s baton. ‘With one of these. They want energy, I give it to them.’

Ditto snatched the rod. ‘Show-off,’ he said. ‘There are various projectile options on this thing, depending on which cartridge you choose. A certain kind of slug sends the Parasites into overload: you saw the results. It is called a Shocker, a slug initially developed by a weapons company as an alternative to the taser. Even if we miss, the charge isn’t enough to injure the smallest person. Unlike the shot Stefan gave you, which could have barbecued a wild boar.’

Cosmo remembered the creature on his chest exploding into a cloud of blue bubbles.

‘Or you can choose regular non-lethals: gumballs, shrink-wrappers and so on,’ continued Ditto. ‘The last thing anyone wants to do is hurt someone. But sometimes we need to buy a little time, and non-lethals can really help us out.’

Cosmo blinked. ‘I understood about sixty per cent of that.’

Stefan stood buttoning his coat.

‘That’s more than most people understand. Ditto, would you give Cosmo the tour? I have to go out for a while.’ He tucked the bouquet inside his overcoat, heading for the elevator.

Cosmo called after him. ‘One question.’

Stefan did not turn around. ‘Make it quick, Cosmo.’

‘I know what you’re doing, but why are you doing it?’

‘Because we’re the only ones who can,’ said Stefan, tugging the cord on the elevator grille.

‘Stefan was a police cadet three years ago,’ said Ditto, tossing his beer bottle in the recycler. ‘His mother was on the force too. She was one of the city’s chief trauma surgeons. After she died, he spent a year in the widows’ and orphans’ home. When he got out, he spent every dinar of the insurance settlement on this place.’

Cosmo glanced around. The building was not luxurious, even by an orphan’s standards. The cots were army issue, the paint was bubbled with damp and the windows hadn’t seen a cloth in years.

‘Not exactly the Batcave.’

‘The what cave?’

‘Never mind.’

The blond boy pointed to a bank of mongrel computers stacked on a workbench. The latest crystal screens sat side by side with last-century monitors.

‘Most of this stuff is black market. We observe Satellite sites, waiting for disasters.’

‘What? You hack the state police site?’

Ditto chuckled. ‘The state police site? No, thank you. We’re in too much of a hurry to wait around for the police. We hack the law firms.’

It made sense. With lawsuits being so costly, most corporations hired private teams of rapid-response combat lawyers to beat the police to accident sites.

Ditto turned his attention back to the room. ‘We all have a bunk,’ he said. ‘Basic stuff, but it’s a place to lay your head.’

‘And you just happened to have a spare one for me?’

Ditto sighed. ‘A spare one for you? Well, no. That was Splinter’s. He used to be one of us. He couldn’t take the visions any more. He left the city six months ago. He lives out of town now. He wears blue-lensed sunglasses, never takes ’em off.’

‘Are you a Spotter, Ditto?’

‘A Spotter? Yes, we all are. But with me, it’s a Bartoli side effect. Mona told you about me, right?’

‘Yes. And how did you find Stefan?’

Ditto frowned. ‘Stefan had an… accident a few years ago. I was in the ambulance that picked him up. The
world’s shortest paramedic. That particular hospital made a big deal of hiring a Bartoli Baby. Maybe you read about me on the Sat-net?’

Cosmo shook his head.

‘Well anyway, when we picked up Stefan, he was babbling about blue creatures sucking the life out of his chest. I couldn’t believe it. Until that moment I’d thought
I
was crazy. So I visited him at the hospital and we took it from there. When Stefan decided to set up our little group, I quit my job without a second thought. Ever since then, we’ve been saving the world together.’

‘One more question.’

Ditto shook his child’s head. ‘One more question. With you kids, it’s all questions.’

‘What’s Stefan doing with real flowers?’

‘The flowers? Stefan will tell you when he’s ready.’

Cosmo’s heart sank. He was almost part of a group. Almost, but not quite.

The LED on his plexi-cast switched to red and an alert began beeping gently.

‘That’s enough walking around for you today. The cast needs another eight hours to do its job. Are you in pain?’

Cosmo nodded.

Ditto pulled a pain plaster from his pocket. The rumpled tab looked about ten years past its sell-by date.

‘Here. There’s still a bit of juice in this.’

He peeled off the adhesive backing, slapping the pad on to Cosmo’s forehead.

‘How’s the heartbeat? Your ticker took quite a hammering.’ Ditto placed his hand on Cosmo’s heart and suddenly the pain disappeared.

‘It’s gone. The pain. How’d you do that?’

‘Not me. The pad. One of my own concoctions. I get plenty of opportunities to put my medical training to use in this job.’

‘And Stefan trained at the police academy?’

Ditto grinned a grin far too cynical for one of his apparent years.

‘Yes, he specialized in demolition.’

‘Tomorrow, do I get to be a Spotter?’ asked Cosmo.

Ditto nodded at Mona Vasquez, who was snoring gently in a deep, but untroubled sleep. ‘No one can teach you how to be a Spotter, kid. That’s what you are. But that little innocent-looking girl there will teach you what to do when it’s time to put your natural talent to work.’

Stefan opened the door a crack, slipping into the Satellite City dawn. Sunrise used to be orange. But now sunrises were a multicoloured affair, as the sun’s light illuminated whatever chemicals were in the smog that particular day. Today the smog was deep purple, so that probably meant pesticides. The air would stink by noon. Still, it was better than red. Nobody ventured outdoors without a mask when the smog was red.

The street vendors were busy even at this hour, firing up their mobile braziers and barbecues, ready for the breakfast trade. It was too early for the gangs, though. Hoodlums tended to keep vampires’ hours. The streets would be relatively safe until late afternoon.

Stefan bought a pazza from Carlo’s Kitchen, and made his way towards the crematorium. Pazzas were a new fast food craze. Calzoni pizza stuffed with pasta shells and various sauces. The perfect food for a person on the move.

Stefan walked along Journey Avenue keeping his eyes on the pazza. In Westside, people would steal the food right out of your mouth. It was a sorry state of affairs. If this was the City of the Future, Stefan would take the past any day of the week.

He was in a bad mood and it wasn’t just the smog. In spite of all his efforts, the group had taken on another stray. OK, so the kid was a Spotter. But he couldn’t be more than fourteen years old and he had absolutely no experience of surviving in the city. Mona was young too,
but she was streetwise and gutsy. Cosmo looked like the streets would eat him alive in minutes. Stefan already felt responsible for the boy, though he had no desire to be. He was barely old enough to be responsible for himself. It was one thing to risk his own life in pursuit of the Parasites, but to put someone else in danger was something else entirely. Especially someone as green as Cosmo Hill.

Five city blocks down, he arrived at the Solace Crematorium. The building was inevitably pig-iron grey, but the manager had made an effort to cheer up the place by having computer graphic angels flit up and down the facade.

Stefan went round the back to the Hall of Eternal Rest. He swiped his resident’s card and passed through the turnstile. His card activated what appeared to be a wall of mirrors, but was in fact a ten-storey carousel of small glass boxes. The magnetic strip in his swipe card summoned a box from the top level. He followed its progress through the rows, twinkling down the levels to a vacant booth on ground level.

Stefan selected the no-music option on the touch-sensitive screen and entered the booth. The box slid from its compartment on to a velvet cushion.

‘I don’t like all this, Mum,’ muttered Stefan, abashed. ‘Velvet and fairies. But believe it or not, there are places a lot worse than here.’

The box was six inches square, transparent, with a
brass plate on the front. The inscription was short and simple. Seven words.
Dearest Mother. Much loved. Gone too soon.

Stefan pulled the bunch of flowers from beneath his overcoat, laying them on the cushion before his mother’s ashes.

‘Lilies, Mum. Your favourites.’

Stefan’s spiky hair had fallen over his eyes. It made him look years younger.

‘We picked up another Spotter, Mum. He’s a good boy. Sharp. He saved Mona tonight. A quick thinker. Definitely Supernaturalist material. But he’s just a kid, a no-sponsor right out of Clarissa Frayne.’

Stefan rested his head in his hands.

‘But even with Cosmo, there are too many of these blue demons. Every day, more and more. They come out in the daytime now, you know. Even if you have the smallest cut on your arm, you better watch out. Nobody is safe. Every night we pop a hundred, and the next day there are a thousand new Parasites to take their place.’

Stefan’s young brow creased with the worry lines of a man three times his age. ‘Am I crazy, Mum? Are we all crazy? Are the Parasites really there at all? And if they are, how can a bunch of kids ever hope to fight them? The others think I’m their leader. I see the way they turn to me, as though I have all the answers. Even the new boy, Cosmo, is looking up to me already, and he’s only been awake for a few hours. Well, I don’t have any answers.
There are more Parasites every day and all we can do is save a few people at a time.’

Stefan rested his head in his arms. He knew what his mother would have said.
Everyone you save is someone’s son, or someone’s mother. When you save them, you save me.

If only
, thought Stefan.
If only I could have saved you. Then everything could have been different.