Who Let The Ghosts Out?

Chapter 12 -The Aftermath

Together, we enter the room at the top of the light house. It's round, no surprise there, with a domed metal roof. The reek of urine is stronger here, together with a mouldy whiff and the stink of unwashed humanity coming from the mattresses stacked up on one side. The piles of fast food boxes add to the greasy miasma that hangs in the room, trapped by the blankets somebody hung over the windows, grey rectangles of uncertain light that keep the dawn at bay.

I turn my head to the right, the source of the amber glow.

Just as I feared, one ghost is haunting the place, a deceptively frail spectre with slit-like amber eyes. A string of ectoplasm extends from its middle and at the end of it—

"Candice," Amelie and I shout simultaneously.

"Sorry," she whispers. "Somehow, I ended up on top of a dumpster, and that bastard was hiding inside. Ow."

The bastard has yanked her chain...string of ectoplasm.

"I don't know how you did this," the ghost says, annoyance shrill in its voice. "We banished you to that morgue, good and properly. You weren't supposed to get out of there."

"That's Third Eye Investigations for you," Amelie says. "We go the extra mile, it's our motto."

The ghost snarls and yanks at the ectoplasm once more. But Candice has expected his move and throws herself at the ghost.

He's too fast for her, whooshes into a corner and drags her after him, gagging.

"I said, don't move," the ghost shouts.

The spooky bugger is definitely stressed out of its shirt, which gives us a distinct advantage.

That, and the fact sunrise is already happening behind the dirty blankets. Already, the spectre is fading, is getting less defined. But since it is one of the really old ones, the darkness inside the tower might keep it rooted to this place, which wouldn't do so well for Candice.

Nor would it be good for us, not with the army on the march.

The ghost can always dematerialise. We can't, not if we want to dump our bodies, which is not a prospect I relish, since we might lose them forever.

No, we have to come up with an alternative plan of action.

Jeez, an endless night is over, but the next day is shaping out just as badly. As if on cue, there are engine noises coming from the beach and human voices.

Candice makes more gagging noises, but they don't sound quite so convincing. She's also tilting her chin at the blankets and rolling her eyes.

Since I've come to the same conclusion, I understand what she wants. Amelie gives a small nod.

"What is it you actually want?" she asks. "I mean, you're on your own. Totally outnumbered."

The apparition skitters about like an upset spider. "Patience is a virtue. Won't take long, and there will be ghosts again. Young and fresh ones. I'll lead the way. Together, we will overcome the living and shift this planet into the fourth dimension."

Amelie yawns. "Sure, sure. Suit yourself. Didn't work last time, did it?"

Since it almost did, her sarcasm is a bit over the top, but anything to keep the ghost's focus elsewhere, away from what we are about to do.

Candice stretches out one finger, followed by a second one. She gives first me, then Amelie a meaningful glance and stretches out the third finger.

I streak across the room and throw myself at the blanket that covers the closest window. It tears and I land on the ground with an almighty thump that rattles my bones.

More noise to my right. Good, Amelie has done her job.

Golden shafts of early morning sunlight pierce the room at the top of the lighthouse. Behind us, a drawn-out high-pitched scream that fades the same moment I swing around.

Only the ghost's slitted amber eyes are left, their fury burning the air.

"You'll regret that," the being whispers. Then it is gone.

A heavy footfall clanks up the metal staircase. The soldiers have arrived.

****

No, they didn't shoot us on sight. Yes, we had a bit of an argy-bargy explaining our presence, but since our profiles were known apparently, it didn't take too long to convince them we were the good guys...girls. In the end, we were even offered medals once people realised the ghosts would have succeeded with their crazy scheme, had it not been for Third Eye Investigations. 

None of us being into medals, we declined politely, especially as the same people offering them were responsible for the mess in this world in the first place. If it hadn't been for all this destruction, pollution, greed, callousness—the list would be endless—the ghosts would never have done what they did. This is not an excuse, by no means. Just an explanation, not a very good one either.

Since the world survived the way it is, and we're in it, we did take the bonus they offered us. It allowed me to keep my house; Amelie can bring up her sister's kids in style, and Candice's beloved Sheila got the best treatment in the world and kept her eyesight.

So, somehow, all that shit paid off.

We're still dead, of course, but so far, nobody has noticed. Apart from us, of course. Somehow, we must have hit that golden moment when our bodies were still sort of okay and could be kick-started into a weird paranormal existence.

We've got better eyesight than before, are much fitter, and little wounds seem to just go away without muss and fuss. At some point we might have to...explain a few things to our nearest and dearest, but that moment is quite a bit in the future.

Third Eye Investigations is still going strong, but mostly we're talking harmless detective jobs these days. Much better for the nerves, and since we mostly work pro-bono, to help those in need, we all feel reasonably good about things. But somewhere out there is a ghost with a massive chip on its non-existent shoulder and, for the sake of the world, we need to watch our backs. That being almost succeeded once, and it will try again, of that we are sure. And since the living are just as bad and refuse to change their wasteful ways, it won't take our ghostly enemy long to re-group.

For the time being, we'll enjoy our continued existence in this dimension. So does the rat who has moved in with me.

Only one thing has changed: These days, I hate chocolate.

THE END 

Wordcount for novella (without intro, notes etc.  - 20352 or 20541 if I use easywordcount). Final Target achieved. 

Do I give myself a pat on the back? I wanted this to come in just over 20K, and it did!! Hooray!!! Thanks to the organisers of the ONC, this is a lot of work and I really, really appreciate what you do!