Ghostfinders 02 - Ghost of a Smile

with almost contemptuous ease. His clothes were even more of a mess than before, and jagged slivers of glass protruded from his dead flesh, but his gaze was steady, and his awful smile was broader than ever. He stood in the wreckage of the lobby like a conquering hero, posing and preening and showing himself off so they could all get a good look at him.
    “I’m thinking this would be a really good time to start running,” Happy said quietly. “I won’t point a finger if you won’t. I’m in the mood to cover a lot of ground in a really short time.”
    “Do you want to leave Melody and the Boss behind?” said JC.
    “Well no, not as such, but . . .”
    “No buts. This is the job.” JC looked Patterson over carefully. “Besides, whatever’s holding that body together has got to be really powerful. I don’t think you could outrun that with your best running shoes on. And anyway, I don’t run. It’s bad for the image.”
    “When all else fails, try diplomacy,” said Latimer. She handed the still-groggy Melody back to Happy and gave the dead man her full attention. “Robert, if there’s any of you left in there, please listen to me. You know me. I knew your grandfather, and your father. Both of them excellent field agents. They wanted something better for you, and I did all I could for you . . . I watched you grow up, watched you rise through the ranks . . . You believed in the Institute! I know you did.”
    “I’m here, Grandmother,” said the dead man, and the voice sounded suddenly different. There was a whisper of life, of Patterson, in the voice. “I’m lost. I’m damned. I rolled the dice in the name of ambition, and they came up devil’s eyes. Don’t make my mistakes. Don’t try and fight the rider. You can’t win.”
    “Stop that, Robert!” Latimer said fiercely. “I won’t have it! I taught you better than that. Fight him, boy! Fight for your body, and your soul!”
    “That’s enough of that,” said the dead man, and once again the voice was dead air moving in a dead throat. “Robert isn’t here any more. I am. He betrayed you and the Institute of his own free will. His body serves me now, as he served me in life. He sold his soul to us long ago, so why should he begrudge me his body? You shouldn’t grieve so, Catherine. It really was a very small soul.”
    “Who are you?” said JC. “Come on—you know you want to tell us.”
    “Ah, wouldn’t you like to know?” The teasing tone sounded very out of place in a dead man’s mouth. “See if you can guess. I’m not Carnacki Institute, and I’m not Crowley Project. But you people aren’t the only players in the game. You really should have paid more attention to what was going on around you. Now playtime’s over. Time to get down to business and remove some more than usually troublesome pieces from the board.”
    Melody pushed herself away from Latimer. She straightened up and glared at JC. “Come on! You’re the clever one! Think of something!”
    JC looked back and forth, frowning hard, then his gaze stopped on Happy. “You know . . . I do have an idea . . .”
    “Oh bugger,” said Happy. “That’s never good. I’m really not going to like this, am I?”
    “I said, time for you all to die!” said the dead man.
    “Oh hush,” JC said coldly. “We’re talking.
    “Go ahead,” said Patterson. “Plot and plan. I do so love to watch my prey squirm.”
    “Listen, Happy,” said JC urgently. “You couldn’t get inside his head before, through all the mental shields, but that was only you. What if you had help? What if you linked your mind with mine, with my extra power? And Melody, with her scientific self-control? Could you do that?”
    “Well, probably,” said Happy. “These aren’t the best conditions, but stark terror motivates the mind wonderfully. And if I can tap the power within you, use that to strengthen the link . . . But what then?”
    “Then we push the rider out,” said JC.
    Happy was already shaking his head. “Even if we could do that, it would step right back in the moment we stopped pushing.”
    “Not if we put someone else inside,” said Latimer. They all turned to look at her, but she was looking dispassionately at Kim. The ghost girl stared back at her with wide, frightened eyes. And now JC was shaking his head.
    “No. We’re not putting Kim at risk.”
    “She’s already dead,” Latimer said ruthlessly. “Nothing more can harm her in this world. She can inhabit