Page 20

Monday, April 27, 2167

Death Mile

Dragon Heights, Wyoming

Somehow,I convinced my mother to take Garnet and Tourmaline out shopping while I ran some errands, went to the grocery store, haunted places the brothel workers had gone, and made myself visible in such a way that I might be either attacked, kidnapped, or otherwise inconvenienced. While the murdered pilgrims deserved justice, the thought of the brothel workers being used as a source of necromantic powers bothered me more.

I lacked knowledge about necromancy, and if I wanted to get to the bottom of the attacks—and find out if a necromancer was behind the stabbings—I needed to cure myself of ignorance. To learn about necromancy, I needed to brave Death Mile.

Once upon a time, before necromancers had crossed the line into irredeemable sin, Death Mile had been their roost. Nowadays, it served as the prison ward and housed two of the city’s morgues in addition to a rather prestigious research hospital.

When I’d registered myself as an anonymous entity, I’d been warned about Death Mile. It was the place necromancers would go if they were to show up. Between its close proximity to the Cemetery Ward, its morgues, and the hospital, a necromancer had everything needed to begin learning their art. The wise necromancers used their powers for the benefit of others.

Unfortunately, most necromancers weren’t wise—or so the stories claimed.

On the surface, Death Mile reminded me a great deal of the Gray Ward but with a lack of brothels—or anything other than support for the morgues and the research hospital along with a few warehouses perfect for a murder. Most appeared to be abandoned, but when I took the time to stop and listen, noises came from within every structure I passed. The windows needed work, but who wanted to get up five-something stories to repair broken windows nobody could squeeze through even if they wanted?

From the looks of it, most had plastic taped to the insides to keep the elements outside.

I bet the warehouses froze during the winter.

Across the street from the research hospital and one of the morgues was a park surrounded with a spiked wrought iron fence. I considered the place, a small haven of greenery in an industrial nightmare.

“You don’t want to go there.” The man’s voice, from not far behind me, startled me into turning. A tall man, who’d give my father a run for his money in the bulk department, offered a grin. Unlike my father, who wore a properly fitted suit, the man went for something far too tight for him. Before I had a chance to say anything, he added, “It’s haunted.”

Death Mile likely consisted of secrets and ghosts, but rather than tell him that, I asked, “By who?”

“Oh, many.” The man smiled, and he pointed at the hospital. “I figure they mostly come from there. They do their best, but it is a research hospital. A lot of people go there to at least make their deaths worthwhile for society as a whole. We learn a lot there, but many of the stories end in grief.” After a moment, he gestured at the morgue. “That certainly doesn’t help, but most in that morgue come from the hospital. Some don’t, though.”

“You live around here?”

“I used to.”

I considered him, narrowing my eyes. After the incident at Shrine Hill, I’d learned my eyes betrayed me—and that ghosts might be real. Or they might be someone, like me, who somehow managed to get a little out of sync with the rest of reality.

I needed to ask my parents about what I had seen versus what my camera had seen.

A lot didn’t add up.

The man grinned at me, his mouth a bit lopsided while he regarded me with soft eyes. “I moved. I work in the morgue, so when I see someone new come around, I warn them about the park. The ghosts are picky about who they let into their turf, and I’d rather you not end up at the hospital being treated for a haunting.”

“I haven’t been in Dragon Heights all that long, and it’s my first time here,” I admitted, and I eyed the park. “What, exactly, is a haunting? How is it treated?”

“I’m Dr. Anstino. I’m one of the coroners. I handle suspicious deaths for this ward. The hospital has a coffee shop open to the public. Why don’t we have a drink? I’m on break, and I’d rather talk about ghosts and hauntings than glare at the work piling up on my desk.”

As cops needed to have good relationships with coroners—and a coroner might be able to answer some of my odder questions—I refused to look the gift horse in the mouth. “I’d love a coffee. It can be my treat for you taking the time to tell me about Death Mile.”

“This way.” The coroner pointed at the main entrance of the hospital, and sure enough, I saw a sign for a coffee shop displayed in the window. “Masks are required if you go beyond the entrance of the coffee shop, but you don’t need one in the shop. The gift store is next door, and you can take your drink in, just be careful not to spill anything. You break it, you buy it.”

“Any crystals?”

“There are some, yes. I can show you. Are you into crystals?”

“No, but my carbunclo is.”

“Ah. I’ve heard of you. Kinsley, right?”

“Yes, I’m Kinsley.”

“I can’t help but notice your kitten is not with you.”

Great. The rumor mill would label me as an abuser of all carbunclo kind if I didn’t put the brakes on his poor assumptions. “My kitten is a little traitor, and Tourmaline joined in. They have decided the Ramonses are the most interesting dragons in the city, and they were invited to go on a shopping adventure. I was told I could go or not go as I wanted, and I decided to flee in the exact opposite direction to get a few hours of peace and quiet before doing my grocery shopping and heading home. I’d like Garnet to have a little independence, and as she showed interest in the shopping venture, I thought it was a good idea. While they’re a little abrupt, the Ramonses seem like a decent sort. Well, when they aren’t trying to kill each other. But if I went with them, they’d buy more things, and I don’t want them to buy more things.” It took no effort on my part to stare at the coroner with wide, imploring eyes. “I hope I don’t lose my kitten and hummingbird to them.”

“Well, I certainly wouldn’t worry about your pets with them watching them. I’m glad to see that you have an understanding of carbunclo. Yes, you’re right—she does need independence, and teaching her that she’s allowed to make decisions for herself is excellent at her age. They do quite value their freedom. I’m sure the Ramonses can handle caring for a carbunclo and a hummingbird. I wasn’t aware you have a hummingbird, however.”

“I’ve been told Tourmaline is my familiar. He is a true creation that happened during the last rain. Garnet was playing outside when it hit, and I didn’t want her to get hurt, so I retrieved her and took her inside.”

“How fascinating.” Dr. Anstino joined the line to get coffee, which was six people deep. The coffee shop bustled, as did the gift shop next door. “The answer to your question is a complicated one, and it involves understanding the states of the human psyche. For the sake of this discussion, I mean conscious, semiconscious, subconscious, and unconscious. Scholars debate about whether there are more states than this, but in terms of hauntings, these are the core states. Conscious is your current, regular state. Unconscious is a state of sleep. Semiconscious and subconscious are where the hauntings tend to damage people. View a haunting as the energy of a spirit infecting your semiconscious and subconscious states. Treating a haunting, on the surface, is a simple matter of extracting the spirit of the deceased from someone’s semiconscious or subconscious state. For reasons we’ve yet determined, unconscious and conscious states are uninfluenced by spirits.”

“A haunting can only happen when someone is in a daze or may not be aware they’re doing something?” I asked in an attempt to understand what, precisely, the man was going on about.

“That’s a good way to think about it. Have you ever done something by habit? You’re so used to doing it that it just happens without you putting any thought into it? That’s when a spirit can get a foothold within someone. Hauntings damage someone’s ability to develop new habits, as the spirit has taken over that portion of the psyche. It also bars people from being able to make use of the habits they’ve learned. It’s quite the problem. Purple dragons are the best at ejecting haunting spirits, but we have ways of correcting the problem with medicines.”

I struggled to imagine life without being able to develop or use habits. “That sounds awful.”

“It is. Fortunately, it’s easy to identify. The sufferer changes rather drastically. Subconscious and semiconscious behavior is a critical part of someone’s identity and existence.”

The line moved with surprising speed, and Dr. Anstino ordered his usual. I pointed at a sugary and creamy monstrosity of a coffee displayed on the board and asked for the largest size the barista would give me. She laughed and promised she’d take care of me. I held out my card, told her I was paying for the doctor’s, and navigated the perilous waters of the transaction terminal with tolerable grace.

“Thank you,” the coroner said.

I grinned at him while we went to join the line of those waiting for their coffees. “You’re welcome. I appreciate you teaching me about the hauntings. I didn’t know such a thing was possible.”

“Dragon Heights is a city of magic, and where magic pools, strange things can happen. One of those strange things involves the dead. I’ve been trying to find out why the rate of hauntings has increased lately. I’ve been recommending that they close the park for a few months now, but until the hospital codes due to too many haunting patients, nobody is willing to take my concern seriously. Everyone agrees the hauntings is a problem, mind you, but it’s not a problem enough yet to warrant closing the park.”

I could understand why the powers that be in charge of the city wouldn’t want to close the park. “It’s a known entity. Let’s say the park is closed. Wouldn’t the hauntings just move to unexpected places, then? The spirits aren’t bound specifically to the park, are they? It’s just a pleasant place next door—and wouldn’t a spirit want to go to a pleasant place?”

Dr. Anstino considered me through narrowed eyes, and then his expression brightened with his smile. “You’re clever. That is a possibility that has been discussed—and that possibility is the one reason I hold my peace. Yes, there absolutely is a chance the hauntings might move to unexpected locations and make the diagnosis process more difficult.”

“Is something making the hauntings more frequent?”

“That’s the million dollar question. I’m sure there is. But what? That I can’t tell you. We’ve been arguing about it for months. It’s like nothing we’ve seen before.”

“And if I wanted to prevent a haunting, what would I do? I have enough problems without haunting being one of them.”

“Avoid the park,” Dr. Anstino advised. “Beyond that, I truly have no idea. But there is good news for those suffering from haunting. The haunted is not responsible for what the haunter does, and purple dragons can tell when someone has become the victim of a haunting. But if you’re concerned, steer clear of Death Mile for a while. That’s all I can tell you.”

* * *

Monday, April 27, 2167

Death Mile

Dragon Heights, Wyoming

I purchasedseveral cheap crystals for Garnet, all quartz in a variety of colors, and a small basket that would be perfect for turning into a little nest for Tourmaline. As the hummingbird appreciated things that sparkled, I got him a disco ball on a string that I’d hang from one of his nests.

Then, because I had a functioning sense of self-preservation, I fled the hospital and its neighboring morgue, gave the park a wide berth, and angled for the Pearl Ward. I almost made it before a police-marked SUV pulled up and the passenger window rolled down.

“What’s a beauty like you doing in a place like this?” Erik asked. “Doug, you can walk or sit in the back, but she gets shotgun.”

A dark-skinned man with at least a foot on me got out of the SUV, chuckled, and escorted himself to the back seat. “Nice to meet you, Kinsley.”

“Nice to meet you, too, Doug. If you have the shit seats in the back, I’m so sorry. No matter what Erik says, I can sit in the back. I can even wear cuffs. I probably deserve to be apprehended for having a criminally cute kitten.”

“I can ride in the back. We have cushions over the shit seats to spare those who aren’t in cuffs from the shit seats,” he replied with a ready smile.

When given the choice between Erik and braving Death Mile on my own, I headed for the vehicle and climbed inside. “Still, I’m sorry for stealing your seat.”

“I’m not, so don’t worry about it.”

“Where am I taking you?” Erik asked. “We escaped from the morgue earlier than expected, so we can spare a few minutes to drop you off.”

“Anywhere that’s not here,” I confessed. “I met a coroner today. He told me about hauntings, and I have decided Death Mile is definitely not for me. I bought some presents for my pets, assuming those damned dragons give them back. What’s someone like you doing here?”

With a little luck, Doug wouldn’t realize those damned dragons were my parents and I loved them dearly.

“I was at the morgue about a case. This is the best route back to the Diamond Ward. Doug drew the short straw to accompany me. My regular partner is out with the plague.”

“My condolences, Doug. If you need to knock him down a peg or two, just count the months until cold season. Have you had to thaw him out from any snowbanks yet?”

“One or two,” Doug replied with a chuckle. “Was it Charles or Ambar you met?”

“I’m not sure. His name is Dr. Anstino. I bought him a coffee in exchange for a scary story and a newfound fear of the park in Death Mile. I don’t even know if he was yanking my chain, but I decided I did not want to find out.”

“That would be Ambar. He was telling the truth. Hauntings are up, and a lot of them are tied to criminal cases. We’ve learned to take a closer look at the deaths that happened before a haunting. The spirits aren’t ready to rest, and a lot of them are out for revenge.” Doug made a soft sound in his throat. “Look to the right. See that dark stone building? That’s actually a morgue, but most don’t realize it’s a morgue. That’s where the worst cases go for reconstruction for viewings. Purple dragons run it. The bodies that head there have already been autopsied or are otherwise through the investigative process. If the purples learn something with their magic, they go under oath and review by the blacks before the bodies are laid to rest.”

Dr. Anstino’s commentary about the victims being immune from immediate prosecution made sense in that context. If the spirits possessed and controlled the body during subconscious or semiconscious states, the victim wouldn’t have any way of preventing crimes from happening. “He hadn’t mentioned that.”

“This morgue has a pretty gruesome job, and most funeral directors hesitate to inform the families just how much work it takes to restore a mangled body to viewable status. The purples handle their duties with grace.” Doug let out a low chuckle. “So how did Erik meet someone like you?”

“At least until recently, I was a better shot than him, and he wanted to improve his firearm skills. I took pity on him. That, plus he offered food. I’m just dense and didn’t realize he was looking for a date while I was looking for the greasiest junk food money can buy.”

Doug burst into laughter. “That’s not what I was expecting, but I could see Erik doing that. He’s not exactly slick with the ladies.”

Erik huffed, but then he chuckled. “There is a reason for that. I already have a relationship with the best lady on the market, so why would I want to be slick with any other ladies? I’m just private about my private life. Now that she’s here in Dragon Heights, I don’t have to be as private with my private life. It’s much easier to convince people there is a woman in my life when I can point at the woman.”

“Point at me, and I will bite you, and I don’t mean in the fun and kinky way,” I warned.

“I will gesture respectfully and with much love instead of point,” Erik replied with amusement in his tone. “But as I’m driving, I will keep both hands on the wheel where they belong. Would you rather I dip into a bow? I can add all sorts of flourishes to a bow.”

Erik would, and I’d deserve it for having made a mess of our lives. “I will accept that once and only once, so choose your timing well for your flourished bow.”

“I shall. Chester has your PI license ready for you, by the way. You need to sign some papers, but he’ll bring them to your place tonight. The license is active as of this morning, though.”

“What’s the point in me signing the papers, then?”

“They’re for your firearm. You’re legal to purchase, you just can’t have loaded weapons until you sign. You’re already in the system.”

Ah. Right. The anonymous in Dragon Heights couldn’t have a firearm without the appropriate forms. “Where’s a good gun shop, then? I can try out a weapon while you’re forced to slave away at work.”

“Try the gun shop in Pearl,” Doug suggested. “They’re having a sale, and they have a good selection. A lot of law enforcement like their offerings, too.”

“There are two local gun manufacturers you might like,” Erik informed me. “The weapons are pricy because they aren’t mass produced, but you’ll like their safety systems, they’re solid, and they’re reliable. This place does have a testing range for people buying firearms, and they only allow blanks in their range, so you can test fire the weapons before you buy.”

“Take me to this gun shop,” I ordered. “Also, the Ramonses have my kitten and bird, so if you want to pet them, you’re going to have to hunt them, take them into custody, and give them a hard time.”

“Do you think you’ll get your kitten and bird back?”

“I better. They’ll live to regret it if I don’t.”