Ghostfinders 02 - Ghost of a Smile

with him.”
    Latimer called out to the dead man, and he stopped and turned to look at her. His neck made sickening grinding noises.
    “Robert!” said Latimer. “Robert, it’s me, Catherine! They said you were dead! What’s happened to you, Robert?”
    He looked at her, still grinning his humourless grin. He didn’t move, and he didn’t answer her. JC stepped in beside Latimer.
    “I don’t think that is Patterson any more, Boss,” he said carefully. “Or at least, not the Patterson you knew. Happy, talk to me . . . what’s going on inside that dead man’s head?”
    “He’s not alone in there,” said Happy. “He’s hardly there at all. More like a memory, now, pressed down and supplanted by something else. Someone else has . . . moved in and taken over. Riding him.”
    “And that’s what killed everyone?” said Melody. “One dead man, with a rider in his head?”
    “He’s not like any dead man we’ve ever encountered,” said Happy. “Not a zombie, not any kind of lich . . . Whatever’s riding Patterson has suffused his body with so much power, it’s a wonder the world is able to bear his presence. This is far more than a simple possession. This is a Power, walking unfettered in the world.”
    “I don’t care what it is,” said Latimer. “It’s killed my people. No-one gets away with that.” She nodded quickly to the commander. “Blessed and cursed bullets, half and half. Take that thing down.”
    The commander nodded easily and turned to his men. He didn’t seem too bothered at the idea of shooting Patterson. JC wondered briefly if perhaps the commander had known Patterson, before. The commander moved easily among his people. His voice was calm, professional, assured. “Target dead ahead. Put him down.”
    The security people all opened fire at once, and the quiet night was filled with the roar of massed gunfire. Bullets pounded into Patterson, over and over again, and he stood there and took it. Every single bullet hit him, not one miss, and none of them did him any harm. The dead body soaked up the punishment, and the horrid smile on the dead face didn’t waver in the least. He didn’t even rock on his feet under the multiple impacts. The bullets made holes in his flesh, but that was all they did. He felt no pain, took no injury. The occasional head shots blasted the back of his skull away, blowing out long streams of grey and pink brains, but his awful gaze never wavered. He was dead, and there was nothing more the guns could do to him.
    The gunfire died slowly away, as one by one guns ran out of ammunition. The security people lowered their weapons. The echoes died away, and Patterson was still standing. The security men looked at each other and muttered uneasily; but not one of them retreated. The commander opened his mouth to give new orders, but he never got to say them because Patterson was already off and moving. He raced forward with inhuman, unnatural speed, arms and legs moving without grace or efficiency. Shattered bones in his arms and legs made harsh protesting sounds as the possessing will drove them on. Patterson hit the commander first. One punch ripped the man’s head right off, and Patterson was already moving on before the body hit the ground. He was in and among the security people in a moment, striking them down with closed fists, breaking their necks and clubbing them down, ripping out throats with clawlike fingers. Most of them didn’t even have time to scream before they died. He tore arms out of their sockets with inhuman strength, his dead fingers sinking deep into mortal flesh, laughing silently as blood sprayed over him. He crushed skulls and punched out hearts, and stalked over fallen bodies to get to those who remained. None of them ran. They fought him with gunbutts and knives and bare hands; and none of it did any good.
    It was all over very quickly. In the end, Patterson stood alone, surrounded by the dead, with fresh blood dripping from his hands. He laughed soundlessly. And then he turned to look at Catherine Latimer.
    He nodded cheerfully to her, and she stared back at him with stiff, frozen features. Patterson took a step towards her, and JC, Melody, and Happy immediately moved forward, putting themselves between their Boss and the dead man. Latimer started to say something, then stopped herself. They were following their training. Patterson studied them all thoughtfully.
    “Who are you?” said JC.
    Patterson stood very still, not