Page 36 of Insidious Monsters
“And my body temperature differs right back.” I pulled on a beanie hat and some gloves. “I’m good.”
“Yeah, well, don’t come crying to me for chicken broth when you catch a chill.”
“When have I ever come crying to you for chicken broth?”
“There’s a first time for everything, Nand.”
I shook my head and followed as he led us to the Bentley entrance. Someone had graffitied a huge cock on the wall by the steps leading down—and not the feathered kind.
“That’s a little too anatomically correct for my liking,” Archie said with a shudder.
But my eyes were on the road, searching for Margie’s ride. “Betsy said this was Margie’s spot, but I can’t see her camper.”
“She could be parked on the other side of the station,” Archie pointed out.
“Let’s go down and see if we can find her bunk spot.” We descended into darkness. “You got a light, Archie?”
He put the torchlight on his phone, holding it up so we could see down the steps.
A whisper of ice touched my nape and my breath plumed in the air.
“Ghostie?” Archie whispered.
The air shimmered. “Yeah, wait for it.”
A spectral image appeared at the bottom of the steps. The gray, wan form of a man floated an inch off the ground. He wore a sweater and jeans and his hair was thinning on top.
“Bet Margie would freak to know she shares her bunk spot with a ghost.” Archie skirted the guy and stepped onto the platform. I joined him as he raised his torchlight to the guy’s face. It was a blur.
“That’s not normal,” Archie said.
“No, it isn’t. This ghost looks like he’s lost himself.”
“Wouldn’t that make him twisted?”
“No, the twisted were bad before they died. They want to stick around to cause trouble. I have no idea what this is.”
And that was a problem. The realm of the dead was known ground to me, familiar rules and statuses. But this was new, unexpected, and therefore dangerous. I’d have to speak to Celine about it.
We left the ghost and headed deeper into the station. Anemic light filled the darkness as we stepped onto the platform proper. Emergency strip lights hugged the wall, and one out of every four was turned on. Probably to prevent an accident if someone did come down here. I was sure maintenance needed to be done from time to time. The station might not be operational, but it was still connected to the network.
The thud of our boots was swallowed by the cavernous space stretching out either side of us.
“Wow. It’s big,” Archie said. “I wonder why they shut it down?”
My scalp tightened and the spot between my eyes throbbed, warning of an incoming headache. The kind of headache that only happened when—
My chest lurched, the sensation like a hook snagging on the energy pooled at my solar plexus. I exhaled, grabbing Archie’s bicep as the world around us filled with specters.
I counted seven: three males and four females. They floated above the ground, faceless gray smudges against the darkness.
“Oh, fuck.” Archie stepped closer, wrapping an arm around my waist. “What the hell is going on, Nand?”
The specters wailed, their fury filling my head with bolts of pain, forcing me to turn into Archie and bury my face in the crook of his neck.
“It’s okay.” Archie stroked my hair. “I got you. Hey you, ghosties, piss off. You’re hurting her. Stop it. Stop hurting her.”
My head throbbed, white light stabbing at my eyes. I was going to be sick. I turned my head away from Archie, ready to throw up, when the pain stopped. Icy air invaded my lungs, calming the inferno that the ghosts’ presence had evoked.
