Page 40
Soon, Stein moves off. He’s shaking less now but still clearly tense. At the end of the block he turns left. Me and Candy follow him. He walks another half block before stopping in front of a house that looks like a half-excavated Egyptian royal tomb three stories tall. It’s one of the few untouched houses on the street. Maybe it was just waiting for someone with a connection to it to come home.
Sure enough, after staring at the place for a minute or two, he stumbles forward, passes through a tall window, and disappears inside the place. I start after him. Candy stops me.
She says, “Where are you going?”
“After Stein. I get the feeling he’s new here. Maybe if I can see what he wants it will give us a clue to what’s really going on here.”
“Why bother? Why not just do some magic and get rid of the ghosts right now?”
“I just want to see . . .”
“Oh my go
d. It’s because he’s a movie star. You want to hang around with a dead movie star.”
“I just want to see what he does.”
“You’re such a terrible liar. Go on and follow your drive-in boyfriend. I’ll stay here and shout if anything weird happens. Well, weirder.”
“Thanks. I’ll be back in just a minute.”
I step inside the house through a shadow. Candy is half-right. I am a little curious about what a has-been star is looking for. Does he miss his Emmy or that tux he wore to the Oscars that one time? But it’s funny when I get inside. The house doesn’t look like anywhere I imagine an actor would live in, even a B one. It’s just an ordinary house. There’s nothing inside remotely movie related. No set photos or souvenirs. No scripts. It’s just, well, a house. Boring, but decent furniture. A nice TV. There are some books around, but they’re all just cheesy bestsellers. Also, there’s no blood anywhere. Who lived here and what’s Stein looking for?
On the other hand, maybe Candy is right. Maybe I’m getting distracted because I know who this guy is. Still, maybe if I can figure out what one spook wants I can figure out what they all want and send them home without getting rough.
Speaking of rough, Stein finally gets down to it.
The shaking stops and he goes right for the walls. Like the ghosts in all the other houses, he grabs paintings, hangings, and photos off the paneling, rips them up, and throws them in every direction. He knocks everything off a mantelpiece above a fake fireplace and crushes it under his expensive ghost shoes. The glamour continues to do its job. He either can’t see me or he’s too focused to care. When Stein starts upstairs, I follow him.
It’s the same act there. He tears the bedroom apart, concentrating a lot on the bed itself. From underneath, he pulls out a chest full of cuffs, leather collars, and floggers. That’s something, at least. Maybe he used to party here and, for some reason, has bad memories. I keep trying to remember how Stein died, but I don’t have a clue.
When he’s done with the bondage gear, he goes straight to the closet. It’s all women’s clothes. I get the feeling he must have known whoever lived here because he rips everything off the hangers and shreds it.
I haven’t seen many angry ghosts in my time, but this is starting to get a little tedious. I mean, every spook here has the same act. Get in. Run for the barriers. Fail. Shit the place up. After that, well, I don’t know about that yet. I haven’t seen what they do when there’s nothing left to break. With luck they go out the way they came, but from the sounds echoing in from the street, I don’t think that’s how this works.
After ten minutes of watching Stein go nuts, I’m fed up and decide to head out. There’s nothing more to learn here. Except, he’s ignored me enough that I get sloppy leaving the bedroom and step on some glass. The moment he hears it, he looks straight at me. I remember how these dead assholes can turn over cars, so no more fucking around. Sorry, pal. Whatever it is you’re pissed about, you’re not going to take it out on me.
The moment he steps in my direction, I bark some Hellion hoodoo.
And exactly nothing happens to him.
I try it again, turning up the volume a little. Still nothing. When he rushes me, I pull out some arena battle hoodoo and blast him right in the face. The whole house shakes. It doesn’t even slow him, and the next thing I know, I’m sailing out of a second-floor window with Stein looking down at me as I fall.
Luckily, there’s a small patch of lawn out front and, like every other lawn in L.A., it’s overwatered, so the ground is a little soft. Still, it’s a two-floor fall and I’m seeing stars and little chirping cartoon birds when I hit. Candy rushes over and helps me up.
She says, “What happened?”
“I laughed at his baby photos and he didn’t take it well.”
“Dummy.”
The other bad part about being tossed out of a second story by one dead prick is that other dead pricks tend to notice. The moment I’m on my feet, every specter, wraith, and phantasm on the street starts in our direction. Then Stein slides through the front wall of the tomb house. My hoodoo didn’t do much against him, but I wasn’t going full out before. Now I’m fed up with these bastards, so I pull out my Colt and start blasting with bullets dipped in Spiritus Dei. The slugs take down every ghost they hit, but I don’t have enough bullets for them all. By the time the Colt is empty, there must be a hundred dead things rushing at us. I have one last trick I can think of. Something that always works.
I conjure a ring of flame around Candy and me and explode it out like a fire bomb in all directions. Buildings shake. Windows blow out and palm trees catch fire. Once again, exactly zero happens to the ghosts bearing down on us.
“Do something! Something good!” shouts Candy.
But I’m out of ideas. The dead are practically on top of us.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40 (Reading here)
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57
- Page 58
- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 64
- Page 65
- Page 66
- Page 67
- Page 68
- Page 69
- Page 70
- Page 71
- Page 72
- Page 73
- Page 74
- Page 75
- Page 76
- Page 77
- Page 78
- Page 79
- Page 80
- Page 81
- Page 82
- Page 83
- Page 84
- Page 85
- Page 86
- Page 87
- Page 88
- Page 89
- Page 90
- Page 91
- Page 92
- Page 93
- Page 94
- Page 95
- Page 96
- Page 97
- Page 98
- Page 99
- Page 100
- Page 101
- Page 102
- Page 103
- Page 104
- Page 105
- Page 106
- Page 107
- Page 108
- Page 109
- Page 110
- Page 111
- Page 112
- Page 113
- Page 114
- Page 115
- Page 116
- Page 117
- Page 118
- Page 119
- Page 120
- Page 121
- Page 122
- Page 123
- Page 124
- Page 125
- Page 126
- Page 127
- Page 128
- Page 129
- Page 130
- Page 131
- Page 132
- Page 133
- Page 134
- Page 135
- Page 136
- Page 137
- Page 138
- Page 139
- Page 140
- Page 141
- Page 142
- Page 143
- Page 144
- Page 145
- Page 146
- Page 147
- Page 148
- Page 149
- Page 150
- Page 151
- Page 152
- Page 153
- Page 154
- Page 155
- Page 156
- Page 157
- Page 158
- Page 159
- Page 160
- Page 161
- Page 162
- Page 163
- Page 164
- Page 165
- Page 166
- Page 167
- Page 168
- Page 169