Anton Strout: Dead To Me

“That’s comforting,” I said, feeling for the retractable bat hanging from my belt. “So now you’re in their elite littleHair Club for Men?”

“Theyprefer to be called the White Stripes, thank you,” Connor shot back.

“I know that, but they’re sooo not hip enough to pull that off,” I said, adamant.

Connor shushed me and sighed before changing the subject.

“You’re late, kid,” he whispered. There was a bit of venom to his tone. “And thanks for saying I look older. You’re all heart.”

I ignored his attitude. “What’s the sitch?”

Connor turned back to the dark and unexplored section of the alley.

“I was minding my own goddamn business walking up University,” he said, “when I heard a scream. It was hideous-like someone getting their back waxed. Then, out of nowhere, this spectral phantasm appears, streaking up and down the alley and scaring the souvenirs right out of a group of tourists.”

I looked at the ground. Shot glasses with the Statue of Liberty on them, “I Heart NY” T-shirts, bootleg copies of cheap Asian porn videos, and postcards showing the New York skyline were scattered all around. There was also an odd assortment of broken clay pieces mixed in with everything, but they didn’t look like any kind of tourist chatchke I knew of. I stepped carefully over the mess and moved closer to Connor.

“What’s with all the broken pottery?” I asked. “Did someone drop their kiln?”

Connor shrugged. He looked distracted and there was a shortness when he spoke. “That was already here before the tourists dropped all their stuff. Maybe it has something to do with the ghost. I dunno. I’m too busy trying not to die right now.”

“Sorry,” I said, “but isn’t this a job for Haunts-General? Ghosts aren’t really my thing. They give me the stone cold heebie-jeebies. I’m not trained for this.”

I eyed Connor’s streak again and ran my hand through my own jet-black mop of hair, hoping it wouldn’t meet the same fate.

“Don’t fall apart on me now, kid,” Connor said. “You had all the training sessions.”

“Training sessions?” I said. I threw my hands up. “The Enchancellors haven’t even covered apparitions with me yet. When I asked one of them about ghosts, they handed me a pamphlet entitledTen Simple Ways Your Job Will Disfigure You! Nothing I’ve learned at the Department has trained me to tangle with anything like that. If it gets ahold of me as well, the other investigators will be calling us the Skunk Twins.”

“Look,” Connor said. “No one from Haunts responded and I was nearby…”

A clatter that sounded like overturning garbage cans interrupted him. I stared into the darkness, but in the pitch black of the alley there might as well have been an entire army of zombies riding in giant zombie tanks. Still, if itwas zombies, I had at least read a pamphlet on them.

Connor spoke again, this time his voice dropping to an exasperated whisper. “I just happened to be at the wrong place at the right time, okay, kid? There were all these people standing around, snapping pictures of the damn thing like it’s some goddamn movie star, so I start moving in on it. It must have sensed I wasn’t afraid of it, because it hauled ass down this alley in the opposite direction, which is what I expected. At that point, I figured it could do one of two things: If it was aware it’s a ghost, it’d just pass through an alley wall and I’d have lost it, but if it thinks it’s still alive, it would feel cornered when the alley dead-ended. It wouldn’t have anywhere to go and I could keep it at bay until Haunts-General showed up.”

Something in the shadows moved closer, but I still couldn’t make out what it was or even where it was. I felt pretty close to useless.

Connor signaled for me to move farther along the right side of the alley. Since he outranked me in the Department and had a hell of a lot more experience, I complied. Connor crept down the other side of the alley, but kept whispering.

“I didn’t expect this phantasm to make a break back up the alleytoward me, though. Before I could react, it phased right into me, but I resisted its energy. This spirit isn’t acting like anything I’ve ever encountered before. Something weird is up. Now it’s cornered somewhere back here.”

Keeping a noncorporeal being from passing through an agent hadn’t been covered in any of the assigned reading, handouts, or company e-mails.

“It actuallyphased through you?” I asked. “What did it feel like?”

The thunderous sound of another trashcan overturning rang out. I jumped, hating myself for reacting like such a noob in front of my mentor. Connor didn’t even flinch. He tugged at the white streak in his hair again.

“You don’t ever wanna feel it, kid. It felt like someone running electrical current straight through me. It was like a billion fist-sized rocks pummeling my body all at once.”

He tugged harder at the strand so he could just barely see the ends of it.

“Nice souvenir of a standard op.” He sighed. “As if I didn’t feel old enough! Well, as least I’m a White Stripe now…”

Saying he felt old was ridiculous. Connor was only ten years older than me, although I don’t know how I would have reacted if I’d been striped. Hell, there was still a chance it might happen before the night was through.

“We wrap this up soon,” I said, mustering the little bravado I could, “and I’m buying the drinks, ’kay? Maybe it’ll cheer you up…old man.”

Connor winced at my words and I started to laugh-but quickly slapped a hand over my mouth. Luckily, Other Division had started me out with a pamphlet entitledWitty Banter to Ease Any Paranormal Situation. In unpredictable and potentially life-threatening circumstances like this, levity really helped an agent concentrate.

“Kid, this job is going to make me old before my time,” Connor said.

“Oh, who are you kidding?” I said. “You’ll be dead long before you get old! Now, c’mon!”

I took the lead and crept down the alley toward the weird crashing sound. Connor groaned and played catch-up along the opposite wall.

Something very close to me rustled-much closer than I thought it would be.

“Incoming!” I shouted.

Something closer to living fog than human flew out of the darkness toward us, and it was only my foolish vanity that saved me.My hair, I thought, and back-peddled up the alleyway, narrowly escaping the phantasm’s touch as a crackle of electricity from its clawlike hands passed inches from my face. The smell of burning ozone filled the air, and I shuffled farther away.

The barest hint of facial features-deep hollow eyes and a gaping mouth that hung low-floated where the creature’s head should have been. Its dead eye sockets bordered on hypnotic. This creature craved the life emanating from me-I could feel it-and it surged with great power toward me. No longer concerned about their breakability, I threw my shopping bag full of the console and games at the creature, and pulled the retractable bat from my belt. With a click of a button, I extended it and swung wildly, but it did no good.

All I could do was stare. Through the ghostly form, I could see Connor standing directly behind it. He was fumbling something out of his pocket, but I had no idea what it was. I was too busy backing away to care.

As I continued, my foot hit something solid, and my arms pinwheeled as I fell. My ass hit the ground hard, and my palms scraped against the pavement. The wetness of the puddle beneath me soaked through my clothes and the clamminess chilled my skin. I crab-crawled backward as fast as possible but it was no use. This monstrosity was going to overtake me.

I waited for its chilling touch, but instead the overwhelming smell of patchouli oil washed over the area…and the phantasm’s smoky form turned from spectral white to reddish brown. It stopped moving and froze in place inches from my face and I wasted no time scuttering out from underneath it. Connor still stood on the other side of it with an empty vial in his right hand. Tendrils of smoke were drifting like a net around the now-still spirit.