Dead To Me

I sure hope I don’t have to shoot anyone. I’d feel bad about that. Just like I feel bad about you-my truest of friends-that I’m already going to have to edit you down for Faisal’s report. Sorry!

Dear Diary, damn this thong! Something this invasive usually buys me a drink first!

Be right back…

I closed the book. I knew what happened next, of course. Director Wesker would answer for cutting her lifeline.

This was not the journal of someone committed to evil and the dark arts. A wave of optimism washed over me. This was the journal of a small-town girl transported to the Big City, a girl who seemed to be crushing on me. She could be turned to our side, a hot, perky version of Darth Vader.

I felt more ashamed than ever for having read the diary, but at least I hadn’t taken off my gloves and “read” it. I suddenly realized that I wouldn’t have been able to bring myself to do that-and thatmeant something. Maybe I didn’t want to know Jane on a psychometric level because…she was someone I was actually interested in, and I didn’t want to fuck things up preemptively.

I didn’t recall my walk home from the Lovecraft Cafй that night. I was far too wrapped up in what I had read to think of much else. But why was that old nervous feeling at the pit of my stomach working its way to the top again?

24

When I got home, there was no sign of Irene. It seemed odd not to have her there, but I couldn’t imagine where to look. Co

“You awake?”

“Does it really matter?” I muttered sleepily.

“Good point,” Co

“Now?” The other night, when Co

“Trust me, kid, you’ll wa

I sat up and started dressing immediately, sliding on jeans and a tee. “What? How?”

“Well, interrogating those junkies was no use. They’re all still totally out of it. But you know how there have been more and more of those disoriented spirits showing up? I did a few therapy sessions with some of them. One of them knew of Cyrus, even had an address where he said Cyrus hangs out a lot. Make sure you bring your bat. He’s got a lot to account for. Plus, it’s payback for making us look like assholes in the paranormal community.”

Co

“You think maybe we should have brought a task force or something?” I whispered.

Co

I nodded. We crossed the street in silence, headed for the building. When we got to the door, there were three locks to work my way through. My biggest concern was busting one of the thin metal slides I was using, but after ten minutes I had successfully opened all the locks. Co

“The place has been dark for hours,” Co

After I gave my eyes a moment to adjust to the low light pouring in from the city skyline, Co

“One fish, two fish, evil fish, good fish,” I said with a low whistle. Every square inch of space was occupied by fish statues or artwork relating to fish. Most of them had been carelessly thrown around, but some of the pieces were hung on the wall with care. It looked like Cyrus was either a collector or else he had been searching in vain for a while for a very specific fish…the one from Irene’s apartment, I would bet.

I would never have guessed that there were so many potential forms of fish art out there. The most striking piece was a large silvery metallic fish that hung on display as a clear centerpiece for the room. “Ooh, shiny,” I said and headed for it. I pulled off one of my gloves to read it. Clearly something that ornate had a story to tell.

“Simon, don’t,” Co

“Everything in here’s been warded,” Co

“Gah!” I shouted, disappointed in myself. “Can’t believe I fell for the old shiny object ploy. We deserve to be incinerated.”

“Speak for yourself, kid,” Co

Smoke rapidly filled the room and I breathed in a big lungful of it. I looked to see if Co

“Meant to mess with us,” I repeated. I was sincerely hoping that Co

Zombie Co

I nodded, but pulled my retractable bat out just in case. If I had stopped, dropped, and rolled in the first place, maybe I wouldn’t be wondering if I might have to take a bat to my mentor. But he was a zombie now. I choked the bat up like I was in the World Series.

“You having any strange cravings?” I asked, backing away.

“What?!” the zombie said, shuffling closer. “Like chocolate?”

“Or brains,” I suggested. “Or chocolate-covered brains…whatever.”

Zombie Co