Chapter 3 #3
“Yeah, that sounds like the kind of things people report around Mammoth Mine,” Brent agreed when Travis finished.
“But we’re also looking at two sets of pissed-off ghosts; the ones who died in the actual explosions, and the ones who got killed by the Pinkertons in the strike a couple of months later. ”
“Maybe there’s a way to get the ghosts to see the gnome as an enemy they can still punish for what happened to them,” Travis mused. He took several deep breaths and did his best to let the tension drain from him.
“Are you okay? You sound a little off.”
“There were three toughs waiting near the car when I came out of the library,” Travis told him. “Ghosts helped me get rid of them, but if they had been stealthier, I might not have had a chance.”
“You think it’s whoever is hunting hunters?”
“Awfully big coincidence if it isn’t.” Travis still felt on edge, even though he was on the open highway and didn’t see anything questionable around him.
“I know going to the library puts you in a bad place even without getting attacked,” Brent said. “Want to grab lunch?”
Brent’s offer made Travis smile, and he appreciated the kindness. “Thanks, but I’m due back at St. Dismas. I’ve been AWOL a lot lately, and with some of the hunts coming up, that’s not likely to change.”
“The invitation still stands,” Brent told him.
“Any time. Angela’s traveling for work and then tacking on extra time away to visit family, so my social calendar is clear.
” Brent’s girlfriend knew at least a little bit about his side gig hunting monsters, and supported him, although she didn’t want to know all the details.
“Don’t worry, I’ll take you up on it when you least expect it.” Travis already felt the shadows lighten. For all that Brent had his own nightmares and old scars, he always seemed to know how to help Travis out of a funk.
“When do you want to go to Mammoth Mine?” Brent asked. “I got caught up faster than I expected.”
Before his vision at the library, Travis had been willing to take a few days before diving into a new hunt. What he experienced gave him a sense of urgency despite the fact that the disaster had occurred more than a hundred years ago.
“Tomorrow? Get it over with?”
“Yeah, that works,” Brent agreed. “It’s just down in Mount Pleasant. Not far. See you at ten?”
“Sure,” Travis said. “And if you go out, watch your back.”
“Will do,” Brent promised.
Minutes later, Travis parked at the halfway house. Jon caught up to him by the time Travis reached his apartment.
“How did it go?” His priest friend gave a look of concern that warmed Travis’s heart.
“There’s buzz up in Mark’s neck of the woods that someone is helping the monsters and making sure the hunters meet with accidents.
” Travis set his backpack down inside the doorway.
“People are nervous, and they’re seeing omens in their burnt toast. When I got back, there were some tough guys hanging around my car, but a pack of ghosts scared them off.
I think the danger is real, but I’m not sure yet who’s to blame. ”
“Troubling. How about the library?” Jon knew enough about Travis’s checkered relationship with the Sinistram to understand the strain of even a routine visit to their facility.
“Stranger than usual.” Travis poured a glass of water and offered one to Jon before he sat at the table. Jon joined him a moment later.
Jon listened as Travis talked about what he had learned, including the priest’s incantation notebook and the vision.
“That’s a lot for one afternoon,” Jon replied.
“Yeah, but honestly, even the vision isn’t the strangest thing,” Travis said.
“Whoever I get for a Keeper is always an asshole. That’s part of the job, and it goes double because they don’t like me.
But someone removed all the vampire books, as well as several of the necromancy tomes.
I don’t believe that’s coincidental. Whoever took them doesn’t want anyone looking closely at vampire lore or raising the dead and undead. ”
“Interesting theory, but why?” Jon toyed with his glass as he spoke.
“I don’t know, but I think we need to find out,” Travis answered. “I’ve been going there for a long time, and an entire section never just vanished before. So…it’s going to take some digging to figure out what’s going on.”
“Watch your back. Vampires don’t like nosy humans interfering with their plans,” Jon warned.
“Yeah, well. The Sinistram has tolerated mediums and psychics and people with magic, but they’ve never changed their position on vampires,” Travis said.
“It’s always been canon that a monster is a monster is a monster.
So, are we facing a vampire insurrection?
Or have the powers that be decided vampires can be useful if properly… supervised.”
“That’s not likely to work out well,” Jon observed.
“Probably not, but the kind of bureaucratic idiots who dream up things like that never have to handle the clean-up.” Travis drained his water and felt a pang of regret at not having anything stronger available. The vision had left him badly shaken, and he knew Jon could probably tell.
“How about taking your mind off things for a while?” Jon suggested. “There’s nothing more to be done tonight, and sometimes giving yourself a little space makes everything clearer. I have it on good authority that there’s a bingo game that needs a caller.”
Calling bingo was the last thing Travis really wanted to do, but he recognized the wisdom in Jon’s suggestion and knew that if he stayed in his apartment, he would end up doing more research or phoning hunting contacts.
“I just happen to know a guy,” Travis joked, and Jon grinned.
“Why don’t you take a shower and wash away the day, then come down when you’re ready,” Jon said. “I left the invoices that I paid on your desk in the office. Dinner is haluski and mashed potatoes.”
Travis liked their cook’s version of the Eastern European dish, and his stomach growled.
“There’s apple cobbler for dessert,” Jon added as an inducement.
“Get thee behind me, Satan,” Travis said with a laugh, although he wasn’t up to fighting that particular temptation too hard.
Jon’s phone alarm chimed. “That’s my signal to go make sure everything is in order for tonight. See you once you get cleaned up.”
A hot shower went a long way toward dispelling the tactile memories of the vision as well as the old book smell that always clung to his clothing when he visited the library.
Tired as Travis was after the day’s events, he knew that he needed the social aspect of going to the dining room for dinner, talking to their residents, and helping raise spirits with the bingo night.
He also knew that Jon and Matthew would probably drag him out of his apartment if he tried to renege.
Travis often ate in the dining room with St. Dismas’s current residents. If the staff was shorthanded, he also pitched in to help serve the meal. Tonight, Jon waved him toward the line to get his tray and dinner.
“We’ve got it covered,” Jon told him. “You’ve had a hard day. Go eat.”
“Hey, Father Travis! There’s a seat over here.” Steve, one of the men who had been at the home longer than most, waved him over.
Travis carried his tray to the table and sat. “Just Travis these days,” he reminded Steve. “I gave up the collar a long time ago.”
Steve shrugged. “The stuff you do here with St. Dismas counts like a church. More than most churches,” he said. Travis made a non-committal response, not wanting to debate the matter.
“Do you believe in monsters?”
Steve’s question caught Travis with a mouthful of food. He chewed a little slower, buying himself time to come up with an answer. “You mean really bad people?”
Steve shook his head. He was a burly man in his forties with a shaved head and tattoos that chronicled the highs and lows of his lifetime, from favorite bands to prison tats.
He had made real progress leaving all that behind during his stay at St. Dismas.
Travis didn’t think that mere humans scared Steve.
“No. Monster-monsters. Maybe not like on TV. From the stories my nana used to tell us about the things that lived in the woods and the caves, back in the old country.”
Travis regarded him seriously, ignoring the desire to brush off the discussion to gain an evening’s peace. “Why?”
Steve looked around. No one else sat near them. He leaned forward and dropped his voice so only Travis could hear.
“There’s word on the street about things out there in the shadows.” Steve braced himself, ready not to be believed.
Travis met his gaze. “Tell me.”
Steve fiddled with the rings on his fingers. “There are always ghosts. Everyone knows that. Worse some places than others, but anyone who’s been on the street for long has crosses, crucifixes, and salt to make the ghosts leave them alone. Works better on some than others.”
Travis had picked up as much from working with their clients at St. Dismas. Some of the men shied away from the topic when it came up, but even then, he could see in their eyes that they believed, but either couldn’t face their fear or were wary of admitting it.
“I know. I see them too.” Travis didn’t say much to their residents about his abilities, and they knew nothing of his monster hunting with Brent, but validating Steve’s report was likely to get the man to say more.
Steve ran one hand over the other. “You do? Huh… Is it a sin?”
“To see them? I don’t believe that,” Travis said. “Not everyone agrees. But the ghosts didn’t ask to be that way. Still part of the flock.”
“Okay,” Steve said to himself, running his tongue over his lips. “Some of the ghosts ignore us. Others try to help—warning about the cops or bad guys, but there are some dangerous ones—we pass the word around and steer clear.”
He cleared his throat and glanced from side to side again, not wanting to be overheard. “But the monsters have been getting worse.”