Ghostfinders 02 - Ghost of a Smile

waiting for something. For some voice, perhaps, to tell them what to do.
    “Have you noticed?” Happy said quietly. “They all seem to be looking at you, JC. They’re not even glancing at the rest of us. Which is not necessarily a bad thing, of course, but it is interesting, and possibly even significant.”
    “The eyes have it,” said Melody. “They’re attracted to the light.”
    “No,” said Kim. “It’s more than that. I think it’s because JC has been touched by the Outside, the afterworlds. They recognise that and respond to it.”
    “Yes . . .” said Happy. “I’m picking up all kinds of things now. Fear, and fascination, and . . . a whole bunch of other things I don’t even recognise, let alone understand. These ghosts might once have been human, but they don’t feel like people. I’m not picking up even the most fundamental sense of identity, or individuality. It’s almost like . . . looking at them from far, far away. And it’s almost as though they think of JC . . . as one of them, only more so.”
    JC looked at Happy, who flinched away from the golden gaze in spite of himself. “How can they be ghosts and not people?” said JC. “What are ghosts, except memories of people?”
    “I don’t know! It’s as though they’re . . . becoming people! The ghostlight is using the memories of ghosts to make forms rather than the other way round! These are . . . copies of ghosts, created by the fog, to do . . . something!”
    “The ghosts of London,” said Kim. “From the Past, the Present, and maybe even the Future. Memories of the London dead, drawn to this place, to be made again out of the ghostlight. I never knew there could be so many kinds of ghosts. I don’t think some of the things rising out of the ghostlight are even human, or ever were.”
    Happy moved in close beside JC though still careful not to look at him. “Come on, JC, this is where we usually rely on you to pull a rabbit out of the hat, and by that I mean produce some really nasty weapon out of your capacious pockets. Tell me you’ve got something really destructive about your person that can deal with this.”
    “Well,” said JC. “I have a brass knuckle-duster, a silver dagger, and several phials of holy water to sanctify them with. I have various useful herbs and charms, in small sealed bags to keep them fresh. I’ve even got an amulet, somewhere. And I have—something else.”
    “What?” said Melody. ”
    “It’s not something I should have, so I’d better not tell anyone,” said JC. “And it may be a bit too much for this particular situation. It’s not exactly fine-tuned. If I use it, I’m not sure what might happen. We might end up in pieces, end up scattered all over the Moon.”
    “I vote we don’t use it, then,” said Happy.
    “Unless we absolutely have to,” said JC.
    “Well, of course,” said Happy. “That goes without saying.”
    “What?” said Kim. “Under what circumstances could having your bodily parts scattered over the craters of the Moon possibly be considered a viable option?”
    “There are times when death is the kinder option,” said Melody.
    “You had to say that, didn’t you?” said Happy.
    “Children,” said JC, “the ghosts are becoming restless.”
    Some were swaying in place, others were turning their heads to orientate on the Ghost Finders in general, and JC in particular. Some stepped slowly forward, advancing through the mists, heading towards the group. JC gave them the benefit of his best golden glare, but it didn’t seem to bother them in the least. And as they drew closer, emerging out of the fog, they began to reveal more of themselves. Some were suicides, with bloody wounds at their wrists and rope marks at their throats, or sullen faces distorted by gas or poison. Some were broken and shattered, pieces of splintered bone protruding through dead white flesh—jumpers, probably. Some were murder victims, still displaying their death wounds from knives and guns. Some were only children, with cold dark eyes, abused and murdered by those they had every reason to trust.
    People who die peacefully don’t make ghosts.
    Not all of the figures were entirely human. Some were like animals, and some were like machines, and some . . . were simply monsters. Because you can’t hide your true nature after you’re dead. JC considered them all carefully and noticed that the dead weren’t looking just at him. Some were fixing on Kim. She’d noticed, too,