Ghostfinders 02 - Ghost of a Smile

So if I interrupt that signal, like this . . .”
    The Mad Doctor ghosts cried out and lurched in every direction at once, like puppets whose strings had been yanked out of them. Lost, without purpose or identity, they flailed madly, striking at each other and the empty air. They were still dangerous, still foul and malignant, but for the first time they seemed vulnerable.
    “Time to go old school, I think,” said JC. He took a phial of holy water from inside his jacket, unscrewed the cap, and poured the blessed water carefully over each of his hands in turn. And then he walked quite deliberately into the midst of the Mad Doctor ghosts and laid those hands on them one at a time, speaking the powerful old Words of Exorcism. The ghosts crumbled and dissolved under his blessed touch, as the Words broke their connection with this world. One by one they vanished, driven out of reality, sent on to whatever was waiting for them. None of them ran, or fought, or tried to avoid his touch. They stood trembling where they were, like rabbits staring into approaching headlights. Until he came at last to the final ghost who held up one hand for him to pause for a moment. It dropped its scalpel, which disappeared before it hit the floor, and pulled down its blood-spattered surgical mask, to reveal a surprisingly human face. The eyes were still tormented but no loner insane.
    “Go up,” he said. “Go all the way up. The New People are waiting. But beware. We looked into the Medusa’s gaze. Don’t you make the same mistake.”
    JC laid his hand on the ghost’s head, and it faded away, as though it had only been hanging on to say those last few words.
    JC nodded slowly and went back to join the others. Kim dropped down from the ceiling to drift along at his side. Happy and Melody were leaning on each other, breathing hard. The laboratory had returned to its original shape and purpose, and the bad world at the end of the floor was gone. JC started to say something, then stopped and looked at the tear in the sleeve of his jacket. The crimson stain was still there, from where the ghost’s scalpel had cut him, but when JC pushed the edges apart, the sleeve was cut and bloodied; but the flesh beneath that was untouched.
    “My arm doesn’t hurt any more,” he said. “And I don’t mean it’s healed—more like it was never cut at all.”
    “Same here,” said Melody. Happy was too busy checking himself in all sorts of important places to speak.
    “And I’m fine, too!” said Kim. “Though I still don’t know how he was able to touch me . . .”
    “Belief,” Happy said finally. “It’s all about belief. They were imposing their world-view on us, so if they thought they could cut us, they could.”
    “You’re right,” said JC.
    “Someone take a photo,” said Happy. “Moments like this don’t happen very often.”
    “You were right when you said this isn’t what we signed up for,” said JC. He looked slowly around him. “This is above and beyond the call of our pay grade. We’re investigators, not soldiers. But . . . someone has to stop these New People, and we’re all there is.”
    “You heard the loony ghost,” Happy said reluctantly. “The New People want to see us, and they’re not going to let us out of here till they get what they want.”
    “But are they the ones running the shells, and the Mad Doctor ghosts, or is there another unseen party, operating from the shadows?” said Melody.
    “Wonderful,” said Happy. “More complications.”
    JC looked around at the high tech scattered across the laboratory. A lot of it had been smashed or knocked about, but some still seemed more or less intact. He looked at Melody.
    “Any chance you could use something here to get a message out to Patterson, or the Boss? Tell them what’s going on, get them to send in some serious reinforcements?”
    “You really think the New People would let us talk to the outside?” said Melody. “I mean, I’ll try if you like, but . . .”
    JC looked at Happy, who shook his head immediately. “I’ve been mentally yelling for help for ages. Screaming at the top of my mental voice. No response.”
    JC scowled, folded his arms, and thought hard. “We know a lot more than when we started,” he said finally. “But I don’t think we’ve got anything like the full picture yet. If these New People really are everything they’re supposed to be, why are they waiting around for us? No . . . something else is going on, and