Bryony Pearce - The Weight of Souls

Justin’s arms tightened around me. “I’ve been thinking. If you don’t have to spend the whole time watching for ghosts, you can get on with school, get decent grades and plan a life beyond all this.”

I frowned up at him. “What do you mean?”

“I’m coming to school with you. While you’re there I’ll look out for the dead so you don’t have to. I’ll run interference, keep them away from you. You can spend some proper time with Hannah and sort things out. I can make up for everything I put you through.”

I pressed my lips against his hand in a silent thank you then shook my head sadly. “Justin, you can’t go back to school. They found your body, everyone knows you’re dead. If someone sees you…”

Justin shook his head. “I won’t come to class. No one will see me.”

“You’re solid now.”

“I’m still a ghost. I have skills.” He concentrated and his hand passed through the step beside us.

“Freaky.” I blinked. “You can’t be seen. Not at all.”

Justin sighed. “I won’t be.”

“It’ll be lonely.” I squeezed him tighter.

“You can meet me in free periods. If you tell Hannah… and Pete… maybe they’ll come with you.”

“You’d be willing to see Pete?”

Justin fell silent. “Not straightaway. One day.”

“You’ll forgive him?”

Justin pulled me close and nodded. “It won’t be easy, but he wasn’t the worst, he was sorry. It helps.”

“You’re pretty amazing.” I hugged him, my mind whirling with possibilities. If I could pay attention in class and do my homework instead of hunting for killers… I grinned. “I can’t wait to prove Tamsin wrong.”

“What do you mean?” Justin froze against me.

“She said I had a future bagging prawn crackers. This could really change things for me. Thank you.”

“Tamsin was a bitch.” Justin’s voice was flat and I understood. Tamsin had hurt him in more ways than one.

“I ought to call Pete.” I shuffled my feet. “I should see him before school, he’ll have questions.”

Justin’s chin rubbed my head as he nodded. “Can I…” he hesitated. “Will I be allowed to come in the house with you?”

I looked at his face, taut with nerves. “You have to stay with us; you haven’t anywhere else to go. I’ll speak to Dad.”

“He doesn’t like me.” Justin fidgeted.

“You saved my life, he’ll love you.”

“Maybe.” Justin’s eyes were tight with anxiety.

“We’ve got a spare room down the hall. Dad will read you the riot act, but he’ll let you stay. If you’re helping me with the ghosts he won’t have a choice.”

Justin relaxed. “Alright. Let’s go and call Pete.”

“There’s something we need to do first.”

“What?”

I kissed him.

Early morning mist clung to the grass verge and the sky remained grey with lingering dawn. I was the only one waiting at the bus stop; it was too soon even for the commuters to gather.

There was no sound, but instinctively I looked along the road. Pete was coming to meet me, just as he’d promised. I checked on Justin. He was standing a little way away, too far for Pete to identify him, but close enough to weigh in if the dead found us. As he caught sight of Pete, Justin’s fists closed, but he made no further move. He was still looking out for me. I was safe. So instead of seeking ghosts, I was able to watch Pete approach.

He moved with a heavy tread. In the old days he’d walked as if there was a hip-hop tune bouncing around in his head, all energy and jigging rhythm. Now his music had been silenced. I wondered when that had happened, if it was only since he learned of his role in Justin’s death, or if it had been long quieted. I hadn’t been paying attention.

Pete’s head was bowed, but a jerk of his shoulders told me he’d seen me. He shifted his bag higher and his step stuttered in hesitation, then he kept walking.

He didn’t raise his head until he drew level with me. Then he dropped his bag at his feet and looked up. He wore a 5 o’clock shadow that said he hadn’t shaved in a couple of days and his face was drawn and tired. His eyes were red, the skin around them grey from lack of sleep. Even the black stubble on his head had grown out enough to begin to curl once more. The bristles looked soft enough to touch. I tucked my fingers inside my coat.

“Hey, Pete.”

“Taylor.” He swallowed and kicked a stone that lay on the path. It skittered into the bus stop with a bang.

“Are you alright?” My eyes skimmed his face, seeking an answer.

“I-I’m not sure.” Pete licked his lips. “What happened to James and the others, do you know?”

“I know.” I looked up as the sound of an engine warned us the bus was on its way. “Let’s talk on the bus.”

He nodded and avoided my gaze until the behemoth pulled into the stop.

Once on I led him upstairs, giving Justin a chance to get on the bottom deck. I climbed the spiral steps, wobbling awkwardly as the bus moved off, then sat on the back seat, offering Pete plenty of room. He collapsed by the window, putting his bag between us.

“So what happened?” he said, finally.

I took a deep breath. “On my tenth birthday,” I began, “I started to see ghosts.”

“Oh, for the love of…” Pete leaned back. “I thought you were going to be honest.”

“Just hear me out.” I rubbed my hair out of my face. “This is what you always wanted to know, why I started acting strange. It’s my family curse. I see dead people.”

“Like the film?” Pete sneered.

“If you like. If a murder victim touches me they leave a Mark on my skin.”

Pete regarded me carefully. “That glove you wear?”

I waved my unmarked hand. “I don’t want to accidentally transfer the Mark to the wrong person.”

“The wrong person being?”

“An innocent. Someone who didn’t commit murder.”

“And once the ghost touches you?” His voice trembled between mockery and curiosity.

I inhaled again. “I have to track down their murderer and pass the Mark on to them. Then the Darkness comes to take them away.”

Pete’s fingers tightened on his bag until the skin over his knuckles almost cracked. “Something took James, I saw it.”

“It’s why I joined the V club. I had to find out who killed Justin and send them into the Darkness.”

“Are you telling me Justin is a ghost?”

I nodded. “He was in school that day the police came in. He put a Mark on my hand before I realised he was dead.”

Pete swallowed. “You’re telling me Justin knows who killed him.”

“He knows about you, yes.”

Pete’s lips whitened and he shook his head. “I don’t believe you.”

I glanced out the window. “Justin’s dead, you believe that, don’t you?”

“Of course.” Pete exhaled shakily.

“Alright then, wait here.” I rose from my seat and, as the bus jerked and shook, I headed towards the stairs. Justin stood at the bottom, like a guard, with one hand on the rail.

“Pete doesn’t believe me.” I caught the rail myself as the bus rounded a corner. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but–”

“You want me to go and see him.”

I nodded.

“I’m not ready for that.” Justin swayed in place and I watched the emotions war across his face. “Fine,” he snapped. He edged past me and took the stairs two at a time. I followed more slowly.

When I reached the top I saw Pete lurch to his feet. Justin now stood in the middle of the aisle, holding the chairs on either side of him.

Pete panted frantically, almost choking on his own breath. “You’re dead. I saw you–”

“You helped them kill me, you dick.” Justin’s tone was low and dangerous.