Bryony Pearce - The Weight of Souls

“A dog?”

“He says there was nothing there.”

Justin was quiet for a moment, then understanding dawned. His eyes widened. “She saw a ghost, and she didn’t realise.”

I nodded. “I’ve thought about it a lot. Maybe it was a kid in pyjamas or something. She’d have had a split second to ask herself: is it a ghost, or has the kid just managed to wander out of her flat and into the road?”

“She had to assume it was a real person.”

“I know. I’d have made the same call.”

“But your Dad…”

“The curse is his enemy. It’s taken Mum and his legs. He’s trying to defeat it. I’m a means to an end, a weapon in his arsenal. As long as I’m around he has a way of getting to it.”

“He’s your Dad, I’m sure there’s more to it than that.”

“Yeah.” My fingers trailed over Mum’s face and I gave my shoulders a shake. “We would have lost her at some point anyway.” My smile was a fragile papier-mache construction. “My family doesn’t have a long life expectancy. As if tracking down killers isn’t dangerous enough, we pretty much always go mad.” I tried to sound matter of fact, but I knew my voice was drum tight. “When I was a baby my grandmother hanged herself. My uncle was shot by a man he was Marking. Those of us who don’t die go to live in the middle of nowhere, or in institutions where we can be basically drugged off the planet.”

Justin pressed his lips together. “You think that’ll happen to you.”

“One day.”

“But you know what you see is real. You’re not mad.”

I turned to the mirror. “I have to be on the alert all the time. I have to pay attention to every single person anywhere near me, just in case they’re a ghost. Can you imagine what that’s like?” I didn’t wait for his answer. “You get sort of frozen at the moment just before death, so some of you are easy to spot. If you’d died in the bath, you’d be naked and wet, so if I see a fat man streaking towards me down Oxford Street I can avoid him pretty easily.”

Justin snorted and I gave a half smile. “But what about the guy in the business suit? Is he a ghost?” I went to straighten my duvet. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”

Justin grinned, a bit too smoothly for my liking. “I’m easy to talk to.”

“No, you aren’t.” I retied my ponytail to busy my fingers. “I don’t like you and you don’t like me.” Blood was seeping through my jeans; my vein wasn’t closing fast enough. I moved to my wardrobe and selected a skirt. I pulled it on over the denim then pulled my jeans down underneath. Justin watched, fascinated.

I was shoving my jeans into the laundry basket in the corner when I stopped. “I’d checked that old guy out before I sat down, I’m used to spotting the out-of-place, but I didn’t notice that he wasn’t right, you did.” I spun to face Justin. “You said there was something off about him.” I pointed at him accusingly. “How did you know?”

Justin took a step back as if I held a knife on him. “I’m not sure,” he muttered. “It was like… you know when you meet someone you sometimes have a feeling about them. You know if you’ll be friends.”

For some reason my memories flashed to the day I’d first met Justin.

“It was like that,” he scuffed his feet in my carpet. “I just felt as if he was similar to me.”

“Not right.” I gave a small genuine smile.

“Yeah.” It was Justin’s turn to paste on a fake. “That’s right.”

My limbs felt like lead; tiredness had crept up on me. I glanced at the clock. It was later than I’d thought. I’d forgotten Justin didn’t need to sleep; I couldn’t keep up with the dead.

“I’ve got to get some sleep.” I covered my mouth as I yawned and Justin nodded.

“Should I leave?”

For the first time I wondered where one of the bothersome dead would go while I slept. “What will you do?”

Justin inhaled and his full lips twitched downwards before he got them back under control. “I’ll find a cinema or something.”

I nodded and he stepped backwards.

“Wait.” I pushed my hair off my forehead. “You could watch telly downstairs. Dad won’t hear – he’ll work late into the night then take some painkillers; they knock him out. You should be able to work the remote as long as you don't turn it up too loud. The sofa’s comfy.”

“It’s not like I’m going to sleep on it.” The sullen words didn’t match the sudden brightening of his face.

“So you’ll be downstairs?”

“Sure. You can find me when you get up.”

“OK.” I stood up, legs brushing my duvet. “Night then.”

“Night.”

There was an awkward moment when I thought he was going to try and shake my hand or something. Then he backed out of the door. Without opening it.

I hesitated then reached for Mum’s book. Until Justin settled downstairs I would read and bring her voice back to life; that way I would not feel so alone. My hands caressed the leather cover and I inhaled the scent of the fragile paper, like dust in my nose. It took me a few moments to find where I had left off, kicking off my shoes and ghosting towards the bed on bare feet as I searched. I knew the book so well, it was hard to locate the place I had last finished. Finally I sank down and began to read.

A dreadful sound disturbed my contemplation: a low snarl on the edge of hearing.

For a moment I thought I had imagined it, then the boy next to me exclaimed with a trembling voice. “Do you hear that?”

As the rest of the workers drew together I held myself still and tried to pinpoint the source. However, the growl echoed strangely and seemed to come from more than one direction.

“There’s more than one of ’em. Can you hear?”

Voices raised. “We need a lantern, t-there’s something in here with us.”

The darkness carried the Sunbird’s reply. “You lazy Lubberlanders, don’t you want to find the treasure? All you have to do is stand still while we wait for the Professor to come and work out where it is.” His footsteps pounded angrily, but the workers exhaled relief; he brought with him an island of light.

Then the overseer stopped. “What was that?”

The snarling grew louder and shuffling cloth told me that panicking men had raised their tools. Forcing the numbness from my limbs, I managed to edge away.

In the centre of the chamber the Sunbird span and his beacon left a trail in the darkness; a dimly glowing spiral which surrounded him like a cage, but illuminated nothing. He began to retreat and immediately a howl went up from the workers beside me. As one, they rushed the escaping glow.

Horrorstruck I watched my fellows fight over the lantern. As it was torn from hand-to-hand it revealed scraps of faces contorted with terror and rage. The brawl reverberated from the walls until the room filled with voiceless thunder and the beast stopped snarling and began to roar.

Fleeing men tripped on their comrades and in the confusion the myriad of tunnels leading from the antechamber became a labyrinth, trapping us inside. Although my feet itched to run, I thought my best chance of finding the exit was a slow creep along the wall.

With rising terror I soon realised the babble had quieted. Now the only sound in the tomb was made by my chattering teeth. Quickly I inhaled and held as still my shaking limbs would allow.

Every sense burned yet I heard nothing.

When the silence continued I took one tortoise-like step to the right, then another. Finally my hand found empty space and I looked to see that around the corner, high above me, there was a square of light. I had found the way out.