Christopher Moore - Secondhand Souls

With that, the Morrigan slithered out of their archway, up the wall, over the roof of the fortress, and away. Sophie ran to the edge of the wall to follow their progress then came back to Lemon’s side.

“They’re silly.”

“You don’t never be lyin’, peanut,” said Lemon.

Charlie was caught between being horrified and relieved that his darling little girl was discussing the silliness of a trio of Celtic death goddesses with a vengeful Buddhist deity dressed like a citrus fruit.

“Lemon, enough of this nonsense,” said Minty Fresh. “You need to send that little girl down here now. Me and you’ll work this out.”

“Can’t do that, cuz. I need her for what I’ma do. You do know she the Big D, right?”

Minty Fresh looked around at his companions. If Lemon didn’t know Sophie had lost her powers, he didn’t think it good strategy to tell him now.

“There they go.” Lemon turned and looked at the bridge. Three dark streaks were making their way up the concrete pylons toward the steel cables and arches, which were glowing with the neon flow of mad ghosts.

“They just need to move one more obstacle out of my way and we’ll all be done here. All them poor souls will be released and whatever bullshit y’all have been perpetratin’ here will be over. Everything will be copacetic. In order. Bitches just need to shred them a Ghost Thief. I expect by the time they find him, they be plenty strong enough. Going to cost some souls, bless their hearts.”

Charlie felt his phone buzz in his pocket and checked it: Lily . “Hold that thought,” he said. “I have to take this.”

Lily said, “Asher, I’m on the hard line with Mike Sullivan. He says the ghosts on the bridge are out of control and there’s some dark force moving on them.”

“That’s the Morrigan.”

“Well, stop them.”

“They’re kind of out of range.”

Charlie looked back over his shoulder. The dark streaks of shadows that were the Morrigan were almost to the steel arch above them. The ghosts, or the light, or the ghost light seemed to be moving toward them, as if to meet them, swarming along the arch above the fort.

“Lemon says that they are going to shred the Ghost Thief. Tell Mike.”

Charlie could hear Lily in the background talking on her headset. “I told him,” she said.

“What did he say?”

“He said that was weird.”

They all watched as the dark streaks that were the Morrigan took shape as a cloud of black birds, then morphed into their human woman forms. The Morrigan stood on the girders of the arch above them, but the dark tide of ghosts continued to swell toward them until the Morrigan’s dark edges began to glow, then pulsate, brighter and brighter. Finally, the three of them popped like soap bubbles, black confetti or tiny feathers burst into three distinct bursts, like negative fireworks made of darkness. An elliptical lens opened in the sky beneath the bridge—a trick of light. The Morrigan confetti fell into it and the lens closed.

“Mike says it’s okay now,” Lily said. She disconnected.

When Charlie turned back around, Lemon Fresh was bent over laughing again. “That shit is funny. You see that? They went sucked up and bust like balloons. Like we used to feel when yo’ mama made hush puppies, Minty. That woman could fry her some hush puppies, rest her soul.”

“Don’t act like you planned that, Lemon,” said Minty Fresh.

“I did plan that, cuz. Them bitches was crazy. I told you, I am here to see all them poor, lost souls released from that bridge. All them souls y’all got in jars and golf clubs and I-don’t-know-what, that ain’t right. That ain’t the right way of things.”

Audrey moved to Minty Fresh’s side. “He did save me from them. And he didn’t hurt any of these guards. He hasn’t harmed Sophie. He may just be making way for a new order, a new path. There’s always chaos when systems are realigning. Yama is a god of death, but he was made protector of Buddhism, protector of the way.”

“That’s right, Minty, I’m protector of the way. I don’t judge, like y’all do. The Morrigan was a different thing. They all about war. Me, I’m all about love.”

“Uh-huh,” said Minty, unconvinced.

“I’m going to get my daughter,” Charlie said. He started up one of the four flights of stairs on their side of the fortresses.

“She fine right here,” said Lemon. “Once I’m done with my business, y’all can take her home.”

“All right,” said Minty Fresh. “I’ll wait up there, then.” He started for the staircases on the side of the courtyard opposite where Charlie had gone up. Once they got to the top, they’d be closing on Lemon from either side.

Rivera joined Audrey in the edge of the courtyard, the Glock hanging at his side. “You believe what you just said?”

She shook out her hair. “I did when I said it.”

Minty came around the roof of the fortress on the left, Charlie on the right.

“Ya’ll can stop right there,” said Lemon. “I need peanut here for my business.”

Sophie jumped down from the gun platform and ran toward Charlie. “Daddy!”

Lemon dropped his hand and Sophie stopped in her tracks. Charlie drew the sword from his cane. “Let her go.”

Lemon raised his hand toward Charlie, who stopped and struggled, as if his feet were stuck to the cement. Minty Fresh was only twenty feet away from Lemon when the yellow fellow turned and stopped him with the same gesture. “Not now, cuz. Let me get to this.”

“Lemon, I’m gonna bust your ass I get hold of you,” said Minty. Under his breath he said, “Anubis, you going to give me some mojo, now would be a good time.”

Lemon moved until he was standing directly over Sophie. She screamed. He turned toward the bridge with his arms raised high in invitation. “C’mon y’all. Come on here.”

The ghosts of the bridge swirled and stormed, the light moving out now, away from the structure, the streams of ghosts arching toward Lemon. “Come on, my babies. Daddy gonna take you home.”

“I burned up your Buick,” said Rivera from below in the courtyard.

Lemon tried not to, but looked over his shoulder at the cop. “What you say?”

“This morning. After everyone else left the tunnel at Fort Mason, I went back and threw a highway flare in the backseat of your Buick.”

“You did not,” said Lemon.

“Let him go,” Audrey said. “He’s trying to free those souls.”

“I got out of there before it blew up, but it did blow up. Like a blast furnace in there,” said Rivera. “I’m in a bit of trouble over it, but on the bright side, your Buick is nothing but frame and warm lug nuts now.”

“You a dead five-oh,” Lemon said. He turned toward Rivera and lost whatever concentration he had on the bridge. The ghosts resumed their frenzied trip back up the metal frame and cables. Lemon raised an arm as if winding up a baseball pitch, and before he could come down, a dark figure appeared behind him.

“AIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEE,” shrieked the banshee, and she touched the stun gun to Lemon’s neck. ZZZZZZZZZT!

As Lemon turned to face his attacker, the banshee ducked under his arm, grabbed Sophie’s hand, and pulled her away from him. “Hello, love,” said the banshee, pulling the child into her skirts.

“You smell like barbecue,” Sophie said.

Lemon rubbed the back of his neck as if he’d smacked a particularly annoying mosquito, the stun gun no more than a minor annoyance. “You’ll not do that again,” he said, his voice sounding different now, not the smooth and amused Lemon.

“The Buick was in the tunnel?” Minty Fresh asked Rivera. “How did the Buick get in that tunnel?”