Chapter 2 #2
“Everyone, hold hands,” she instructed again, “and focus on sending your energy to me. If we all reach out at the same time, it will get muddled and twisted up. It’s like…
throwing a net to catch a fish. If we all throw one, they’ll just get tangled together into a knot.
But if you give me yours and I make them into one big net, we have a better chance. ”
They all went silent. Miles envisioned his energy swirling around the circle, finding Emily like a beacon.
She cleared her throat. “We call to the spirit world, seeking information. Someone lost to us. If you’ve seen Gabriel Hawthorne”—she nodded to the drawing—“please come forth and speak to us.”
To Miles’s right, Jenna’s hand tightened around his. The candle flames flickered, then flared. Outside his bedroom window, the sun went behind a cloud.
The ghost of a man appeared, hovering above Gabriel’s picture.
He looked around twenty, pulled straight out of a bad early 2000s rom-com with frosted tips gelled into stiff spikes, an oversized green polo, and a puka shell necklace.
His face was friendly and open, a stranger you’d be comfortable asking for directions on the side of the road.
Amy sucked in a triumphant breath, then gave a little squeal of excitement.
“Hey.” The ghost looked down at Gabriel’s picture, cocking his head. “I’ve totally seen this guy.”
“Where?” Miles blurted, earning him a warning squeeze from Emily.
“What’s your name?” she asked the ghost kindly.
“Blake.” He wasn’t very solid, but he’d been dead for a short enough time that he still sounded coherent. Ghosts who didn’t start out as malicious spirits could last decades before the madness started to set in.
“It’s nice to meet you, Blake. Can you tell us where you saw our friend? Was it recently?”
That was a loaded question. Most ghosts didn’t understand time anymore; it didn’t move in the same way for them as the living.
Blake didn’t hesitate. “He was on my bus a few days ago.”
“Your bus?” Miles had seen the look Gabriel gave the buses in the school parking lot—he’d chew off his own arm before riding one. Or any kind of public transportation for that matter. “Are you sure it was him?”
Blake studied the drawing again and nodded enthusiastically. “One thousand percent sure.”
“How were you on a bus?” Jenna asked tentatively. “I didn’t think ghosts could move around much.”
His expression fell. “I died on it. A crazy guy with a knife stabbed me when I was on the way to the movies. My girlfriend and I were going to see House of Wax… we wanted to see Paris Hilton get ganked, you know?” He peered around hopefully. “How was it? Was her death totally sick?”
“It, uhhh…” Miles had never seen it. Neither had anyone else, based on the blank looks. “Yeah, totally sick. Really… gory.”
“Nice.” Blake grinned. “Anyway, yeah, the bus. I’ve tried to get off a million times, but I can’t get past the stairs.”
Everyone around the circle wore identical grimaces. It was hard to imagine a worse fate than that. It was a miracle Blake hadn’t gone full mad, foaming-at-the-mouth raging ghost after the first month.
It made Miles wonder if everyone who died in an ambulance and came back as a ghost was doomed to haunt it. That would get seriously crowded.
“I’m sorry,” Emily finally said. “That sounds terrible.”
“Seriously.” Charlee winced. “A public bus has to be the worst afterlife ever. Ouch.”
Miles threw her a warning look—the last thing they needed was to piss him off. But Blake didn’t look offended.
“You’re telling me. I guess it’s going to be ugly purple seats and stinky bus smell forever. I must’ve really pissed God off.”
“Sorry.” If he helped them find Gabriel, Miles would personally find a way to make Blake’s soul move on. “If Gabriel was on your bus, he must’ve gotten off. Did you see where?”
“Not exactly. Things outside the bus, they don’t quite… they’re hard to focus on. Seattle for sure, but that’s as specific as I can get. But the stop he got off at, I always recognize it because it hurts when we stop there.”
“It hurts?” Miles repeated. What did that mean?
Blake shrugged. “I dunno, man, it’s like a pressure pushing against me. If I don’t move to the far side of the bus and wait it out, I’ll blip.”
Emily leaned in. “Sounds like anti-ghost mojo,” she murmured.
It sure did. If the bus was stopping in front of a building with protective wards or items on the property, it would have that effect on spirits. They wouldn’t even be able to get close, depending on the level of protection and how fresh they were.
Not much of a lead, but Miles would take it. It couldn’t be a coincidence that Gabriel had gotten off there.
“Was someone with him?”
“I don’t think so. He wasn’t sitting with anyone.”
Miles could feel Charlee’s sideways look. There were plenty of ways to make a person go somewhere without physically forcing them. Blackmail. Threats. A trick. It didn’t mean anything that he’d been alone. “Thanks, Blake. I appreciate the info.”
“No problem. It was worth it just to get off the bus for a few minutes. You’d think being dead would save me from motion sickness, but apparently not.”
This had to be the unluckiest ghost Miles had ever encountered.
“Any chance I could hang for another minute?” Blake asked. “Before you send me back? Let me take in the change of scenery?”
“You’re spending your afterlife trapped on a bus,” Charlee pointed out. “Changing scenery is literally all you have.”
Miles pinched her. “Sure, you can stay for a minute if you’d like.”
“Cool.” Blake’s face lit up with enthusiasm. “Tell me more about Paris’s death. How gory was it? Are we talking buckets of blood? Decapitation?”
This was about to be the longest minute of Miles’s life.