Page 20 of Sinistram
Pay up, mister. We’re tired of being stuck here,the first boy said. The others looked expectantly at Travis, torn between hope and a history of being disappointed. Travis could guess their backstories; he heard similar tales from the men who stayed at St. Dismas. These were the ones who weren’t lucky enough to survive.
Travis raised his hands and closed his eyes, confident that the would-be attackers were gone.
“Thank you,” he told the ghosts. “It’s time for you to move on to where you can rest in safety. Go into the light and find peace.” In his mind’s eye, he saw a shaft of light strike the road near where the ghosts gathered.
One by one, they walked toward the beam and vanished. The last to go was the boy who had first spoken to him. He turned back toward Travis with a wobbly smile, waved, and then followed the others into the light. It blinked out, and the street seemed much darker than before with its loss.
Travis seized the moment and drove off, ignoring the thudding of his heart and the shaking in his hands as he gripped the wheel.
Once he felt calmer, he called Brent. “I think we’ve got an evil gnome.”
“Gnome?” Brent echoed. “I thought they were the cute little guys in old ladies’ gardens.”
“They come in all varieties, and one sort is definitely bad news.” Travis gave Brent a brief recap.
“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 ridof 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.
