Rob is doing. I’ve only used that ability two other times. One of them was on an uncle who thought it would be funny to play in my sister’s room after she died. His ghost was loud and would leave her dolls in my room. So one night I walked in there while he was jumping on her bed and laughing. He threw one of her teacups at me and it cut my hand. I don’t know why but I made a circle out of it just on instinct and grabbed his leg. He froze and couldn’t say anything. I never went into my sisters room ever again except when I turned 21. He was still there and looked at me when I walked into the room.
I smiled and waved.
A cop walks into the room and he’s a small fella. He sits down across from me and pushes his glasses low to the tip of his nose. He smiles at me and shakes his head. I smile at him as best I can. This is Officer Locke. I met him after I got arrested for stealing that pager years ago.
“How are you doing, Stevie?” he asks me.
“Can't complain,” I say. “You?”
“Still dead,” he replies.
“I can see that,” I tell him. “You here for moral support?”
“Just wanted to make sure you were okay,” he says. “Jesus. Look at your face.”
“I can't” I tell him and raise my cuffs. “They gave me a matching pair around my ankles.”
“How are you going to get out of this one?” he asks.
“I’ll figure something out,” I tell him. “At least that’s what I keep telling myself.” I cough up a wad of blood onto the table. “That don’t look good…”
You know your life is pathetic when the only person that cares about you is a dead cop. I sit in this room for who knows how long until two big cops come and sit in the room. Officer Locke stands and one of them sits in the seat and shudders. It’s funny how some ghosts don’t let go of being alive. Officer Locke could’ve just sat in the chair and let this guy pass through him just fine. But like I said before, ghosts hate when you walk through them. Its like cutting in line times a thousand.
“Three counts of murder, resisting arrest, felony evading, assault, theft…” the cop says while smiling. “Do you want me to continue?” he asks me.
“You guys never asked me if I wanted a lawyer,” I say. They give each other a look of slight panic. Officer Locke gasps.
“Do you want a lawyer present?” they ask.
“Not really,” I tell him and they sigh in relief. I’m not a big fan of lawyers. There was one ghost lawyer that was pretty damned useful but I had to get rid of him when I found out that he was killed by one of his former clients for sleeping with their wife. That kind of behavior is intolerable. “I’m coughing up quite a bit of blood. Any way I can get it checked out?”
“Shit, I’d think you’d wanna die as fast as possible,” the other cop says. “You got us and the cons wanting to get a slice of your ass.”
“Are you hitting on me?” I ask him. He slugs me right across the jaw. Officer Locke starts to shimmer a bit which means he’s moments from destroying some shit. “Not yet” I tell him. The two cops look at me like I’m talking to myself. Oh. That’s right. I kinda am.
“This guy is still trying to pull the crazy card,” the first cop says. “Look, Bowes. You’re probably gonna end up on death row until you finally die. Do us all a favor and swallow your tongue.” I look at Officer Locke and he looks at me. He stops shimmering for a moment and smiles.
“What are you thinking?” I ask him.
“That you’re a fucking sick…” one of the cops starts saying to me.
“Not you,” I reply. “The dead cop next to you.”
“I’m not…”
“Shut up,” I say. Officer Locke comes behind me and I can't tell what he’s doing. I can feel a slight tingle when he tries to get these cuffs off of me. Normally he wouldn’t be able to do this but with as weak as I am he’s having no trouble.
“We’re going to have to time this perfectly,” Officer Locke tells me. I wonder what he’s planning. “As soon as you feel these leave your wrists get under the table as fast as you can, okay? Don’t respond.” I don’t. “Okay. I almost got it. I can't believe I’m doing this. I know you didn’t kill anyone but these two sure as hell don’t. I’ll give you their names later so when you clear your name you can have these dirty jerks locked up. That sound good? Don’t respond.” Meanwhile the cops are just staring at me and talking to each other in low voices. Next thing I know the cuffs hit the floor behind me and I dive underneath the table.
“The fuck…?!” one of the cops screams before I hear a shout and he goes flying across the room. There are some gunshots and then the other cop is on the ground looking terrified. I get from under the table and Officer Locke is flickering.
“I think I’m done,” he says to me and smiles. “You think you could…?”
“Of course,” I tell him. “And you know how much I hate working for free.” A moment later I grab him by the shoulder and he disappears with a smile on his face. Okay. Now what? I’m still stuck in jail with reporters all over the place and cops that want to kill me and prisoners who want to get famous by kicking my ass.
I speak as if this is new to me.
I consider using my parents for a moment but I like to save them for special occasions. I try the door and the handle turns. Of course its not locked. Its not like these guys expected a ghost cop to beat the hell out of them and for me to shuffle out the room. I “feel” the hallways and step out.
What I mean by “feel” is that I pretty much try to “hear” the room. I sound like some kinda bullshit hippy guru or something. If the fact that I can use the ghosts of my dead parents to pin down a werewolf that wants to kill his vampire buddy then me feeling air shouldn’t be hard to swallow. A large Black fellow steps in front of me and holds his hand up.
“Hey, man,” he says in a very deep voice. “I know who you are and what you can do. We all know you ain’t do no killin’.
Just a heads up, that lobby is full of cameras and you can't get outta here without being seen by most the country.”
“Thanks,” I tell him. “Any suggestions?”
“Well, me and my boys died trying to get out through the AC duct an’ shit” he sighs. “Don’t try that.” He stares at me from head to toe. “You look like shit.”
“I feel like it,” I tell him.
“Move!” he shouts and shoves at me. He goes right through which means I am getting some of my groove back. I duck behind the corner and wait. A reporter being led by a cop walks past. “You can get me out of this place, right?” I nod to him. “What I gotta do?” I nod towards the reporter and cop. “Done.”
He rushes them a little bit too hard and they both go crashing to the floor, both out like lights. He looks at me and smiles. I walk over and high five him and he vanishes. I close my eyes and focus as hard as I can. The building trembles slightly but not enough to cause a stir. I open my eyes and I’m surrounded by hundreds of ghosts.
“I’m gonna need a favor…”
Everyone thinks I murdered my ex wife and some cops. I didn’t but the only ones who believe me are dead, and sorry, their opinion means close to nothing. There’s no way I’m going to get a fair trial. And since the only option is for me to stand a long trial and eventually be executed, its time for me to do something past dramatic.
So here I am in a hallway with hundreds of ghosts that all want to move on. I walk over to the unconscious cop and take his keys and start slicing into my palm. Some of the ghosts begin to mutter to each other. A few of the older ones know what’s happening. They’ve heard the story about my creepy uncle and what I did to him and back away. I use my blood to make a circle and some of the ghosts cover their eyes.
“Don’t worry,” I tell them. “I’m a professional. Look. I need you all to aim for this spot here” I slap the wall leaving a bloody circle, “and here. Hit this as hard as you can. Throw some concrete in the air if you want. Make it dramatic. I need as much of a commotion as possible for me to get away. You in?” They all nod. ??
?Good. After I get clear I’ll release all of you. Deal?” They nod. “Stupendous. Go!”
I cover my head and listen to what sounds like a wrecking ball demolishing a building. I start running as best as I can through dust and screams from the reporters and police running for cover. I make it to a squad car and get behind the wheel. I start the engine and gun it. I’m two blocks away when I notice that I’m not alone.
“You’re real,” I say to the filthy man seated in the backseat.
“Yeah,” he says and clears his throat. “You look familiar.”
“Been on the TV a lot today,” I say to him. “Why are you back there?’
“Stabbed a guy,” he says. As if on cue a spirit with a fountain gushing from his neck appears next to him. The blood is splashing all over him but it doesn’t soak into the fabric of the seat. “He should be fine.”
“I doubt that” I tell him. “Look, normally I would let the ghost that’s trying to claw your eyes out have at you, but I’m kinda in a hurry.”
“What?” the ghost says. He phases into the front passenger seat. “What do you mean you’re in a hurry? This is what you do. You are supposed to get me revenge and help me move on!”
“Is that what they’re saying?” I ask. “That couldn’t be further from the truth. I hate people, dead or alive. And I don’t work for free.”