This Girl Who Was A Ghost, page 28
part #2 of Near Future Series
Sammy grabbed her clothes and raced out of the emergency-room exit. She found a dark corner to dress, then called for a transporter.
●●●
Sammy hopped out of the transporter and ran to the back of the club. The big ape didn’t open the door for her like normal. Was cheap Johnny keeping her out so he wouldn’t have to pay? She swung it open and slipped in before he could close it.
She went down to the basement and into the lab.
Leo was in the back by the rat cages. “Where have you been?”
“I was at the hospital.”
“You didn’t let anyone examine you, did you?”
“I was out of there before they had the chance,” Sammy said. “Where were you when I needed you?”
“I’ve been here all along.”
“You weren’t here when I came back down.”
“Oh, I might’ve been in the kitchen, getting something to eat.”
“Fine time to get hungry.”
“It was a little earlier than I normally eat,” Leo said, mulling it over. “Yes, I followed you upstairs, hoping to prevent you from doing something foolish. The place had its usual nauseating banter, so I decided to get something to eat while I was upstairs.”
“You going to tell me what you ate next?” Sammy pulled out the stool by the stimulator and sat down. “I’ve been walking around all night with these stupid stubby tips.”
“And whose fault is that?”
Sammy glared at him. “Yours. Can you zap them back to normal?”
“Did you at least try to do it yourself?”
“Leo, just zap away. I had a long night, and it’s not over yet.”
Leo turned on the machine and tapped a few settings. “Perhaps we should try using visualization exercises. You might be too dependent on the stimulator.”
“Yeah, trade that thing in for a toaster.”
Leo zapped the right arm, but nothing happened.
“Don’t tell me I’m stuck with these.”
Leo fiddled with the controls and zapped her again, hard. Her arm jerked and the stubs shot back in. Her fingertips felt as if they’d exploded, leaving a numb residue. She flexed her fingers, rubbing the tips against her palm.
“That’s what happens when you wait too long.”
“Leo, don’t start with me.”
Leo did the other hand before turning off the machine.
Sammy didn’t know what to do next. The cops wanted to arrest her, the feds wanted to talk to her, and Maria might have to be put into a coma. Oh, and Bernie or his driver might be the killer. How could she prove it? Russo wasn’t buying the mask in the jacket pocket. Now that she thought about it, it was a little weak. If she’d slammed him with that table, she wouldn’t have to convince anyone. She had barely missed him, catching the white coat.
“Wait a minute,” Sammy said, rising from the stool. “He had the dark jacket underneath, the same one Dmitri had. The slasher is Dmitri!”
Leo turned toward her. “Excuse me?”
“I’ve got a killer to catch, Leo. Give me the fingers.”
Leo marched up to her. “If you suspect someone, notify the police, anonymously if you can.”
“I only got enough to be a crank caller.”
“Then you don’t have enough.”
“Have to shake him up a bit and see what falls out.”
“There is a lot of attention on this killer. Do you want to risk being exposed?”
Did the feds suspect something? Maybe they caught Sammy on one of their satellites.
“Make the call if it’ll make you feel better, but stay out of this.”
“What good is it being octopus girl if I can’t use what I got?”
“You may still be changing, Sam. These activities could accelerate the changes.”
“Changing how?”
“I need to get you under the imaging scanner again.”
“Did those rats tell you something?”
Leo glanced back at the cages. “We’ll start with some blood tests.”
Sammy stormed to the door. “You’re always good for telling me a lot of nothing.” She bounded up the stairs and to the lounge. The place was thinning out, most of the back tables empty. Johnny was by the front door, talking to one of his apes. If there was anybody who needed shaking up, it’d be Johnny. Maybe some coins would fall her way.
Somebody waved to her from the side. Sammy thought it was a customer trying to get a hostess’s attention, but it was Bernie. He was the last person she’d expect to see there.
His left arm was in a sling. “Evening, Sugar.”
“I figured you’d be home in bed resting.”
“This place is my one respite. I know it’s a little tacky, but then so am I.” He rolled his head back and laughed.
“Is Dmitri here?”
Bernie sighed. “I fired him, but he’s too dumb to know he’s been fired. What am I going to do? I need a ride to the tacky Palace. Do you drive?”
Sammy shook her head, wondering if she should look for Dmitri.
Bernie waved to the ape by the rope. “Don’t just stand there. Let her in.”
The ape looked to the front. “I’m not supposed to.”
Johnny must’ve put a picture of her up somewhere.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Bernie said. “There’ll be something extra for you if you do.”
The rope parted, and Bernie waved her to sit. “I’m sure somewhere there are instructions for driving. I’ll get one of those crash dummies, and if the dummy and the car come back intact, you have the job.”
Sammy shook her head.
“We’ll get matching stealth outfits and go on a heist. Get chills thinking of the adventures we’ve been on.”
Sammy leaned over the table. “Did you get Dmitri at the same place you got Tatiana?”
Bernie took a sip of his wine. “Now, there was a girl with style.”
Yeah, and a psycho. “How well do you know Dmitri?”
“What’s there to know? It’s like asking how well do you know mud.”
“Volcanic mud maybe.”
“Do you have a thing for tall, dark, and dull, Sugar?”
“I’m talking about being dangerous, the murderous kind.”
“Are we talking about the same Dmitri?”
“Don’t you think he’s a bit creepy?”
“I suppose in a drab sort of way.”
What was she asking him for? He didn’t even know Tatiana was a psycho.
“Now that I think about it, creepy would be an improvement,” Bernie said, twirling the wine. “It lends a certain mystery to every encounter.”
“Yeah, a deadly encounter.”
“Dmitri deadly? Tell me more.”
“You’ve heard of the killer known as the slasher, haven’t you?”
Bernie nodded, sipping his wine.
“Don’t know if you know this or not, but he wears a mask when he kills.”
“Rather theatrical of him.”
“More like a psychotic of him,” Sammy said, glancing over the room. “Anyway, when Dmitri gave you the pill earlier, a mask slipped out of his pocket.”
“I didn’t see anything.”
“It didn’t come out all the way, just enough to see that it was a mask. He looked at me extra creepy when he stuffed it back in.”
“You think Dmitri is the slasher?”
Sammy nodded. “Got to find a way to prove it.”
“We can dress up in stealth outfits and…”
Sammy waited but nothing came. “Do you know where he lives?”
Bernie looked into the wineglass. “I’m sure it’s someplace drab.”
She could sneak into the car and follow him home. She might find a whole case of those masks.
“Can you imagine living in someplace drab?”
“Where I grew up, drab was the next level up.”
“You poor thing.” Bernie reached over and squeezed Sammy’s hand. “Let me get you something to forget all about that.”
“Don’t want to forget.”
“I know what. We’ll make plans for your driver training and all your drab days will be in the past.”
Johnny strutted between the tables, patting guys on the back as he went. The place was about half-full. He spun around when he got to the front and spotted Sammy. He marched over to the big ape by the rope. “How did she get in there?”
The ape shrugged. “She’s a little bit of a thing. Must’ve snuck in.”
“Yeah, I floated in on the wind.”
Johnny got into the guy’s face.
“It’s not an electrified fence, Johnny. It’s just a rope.”
“Think you can find a way to get her out of there?”
“If he flaps his arms, I’ll just float out,” Sammy said.
Bernie chuckled. “I have business with her, Jonathan.”
“Then take it somewhere else.”
“But we’re both here now.”
“I’ll throw the both of you out and then you can do all the business you want.”
Bernie sat back in the chair, lips puckered as if the wine had turned sour.
Sammy scooted under the rope and followed Johnny to the back.
Johnny turned around, seemingly surprised to see her. “Where is he?”
Bernie’s chair was pushed away from the table, his face cast in shadows with the glint of a phone held against his ear.
“One’s dumber than the next,” Johnny said, glaring at the ape by the rope.
“Takes after his boss.”
Johnny waved his hand as if shooing flies. “Go on, get out of here.”
“Sure, as soon as you pay me my money.”
“Don’t have it.”
“What you made in this place in a couple hours, you could’ve paid me twice over.”
“I’m putting everything I make back into the business. You’ll get your money. It’ll just take a while.”
Sammy scoured the place. “Where’s the money going? I don’t see it.”
A loud whooshing hum sounded, and then the lights went out, sending the club into darkness.
Johnny stumbled back. “What the hell happened?”
“All that money rushing into the business must’ve tripped a circuit.”
The sudden stop of the music left an eerie quiet to the place as murmurs of concern drifted through the air like the cold breeze of a winter’s storm. Lighted phones lent a quilted pattern to the darkness.
Johnny pulled out his phone, casting a glow over the area. One of the apes out front told him the streetlights were out too. It must’ve been a power station transformer that went. “Hello?” Johnny asked, staring down at a dimming phone.
All the phones in the place winked out like dying candles. Sammy spotted the dim outline of a lone figure strolling along the side of the stage and coming toward them.
Chapter Fifty-Six
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A tall guy, broad at the shoulders, walked with his head down as if he were following a lit path. Was he wearing glasses? No, goggles.
Johnny pounded the phone and cursed.
Sammy gasped as the guy stepped into the back. It was the slasher!
He marched toward the kitchen doors, ignoring them. Why wasn’t he slashing? He disappeared into the kitchen, the doors fanning the now-warm air. Sammy turned to follow, but the basement door swung open, tripping her.
Leo stood by the door. “Anyone there?”
Johnny’s arms stretched out, searching. “Professor?”
Sammy got to her feet. “Great timing, Leo.”
Leo cocked his head. “Sam?”
Sammy turned him around. “Go back down. The slasher’s here.”
Johnny dropped his arms. “What?”
Sammy grabbed Johnny and whirled him through the opened door.
“Rhino, is that you?” Johnny asked. “The gnome thinks the slasher’s in the building.”
Would anyone blame her if she kicked him down the stairs? “Go down and don’t come back up.”
“Where’s Rhino?”
Sammy slammed the door and crept to the kitchen, then nudged open the door. The slasher stood over a table, honing a carving knife.
Guess he found his knife.
Linda felt her way toward the stove, which had a low flame under a stockpot. “Anybody there?”
The slasher turned toward Linda. Sammy rushed in. The slasher’s arm pulled back to strike. Sammy grabbed a round serving tray and flung it, hitting him square in the chest.
He stumbled back, groaning.
Sammy reached for the pots stacked under a table. “Linda, down on the floor!”
Linda squatted, covering her head. Sammy hurled the first pot. It was light and flew over him. The second one he ducked under, and the third was swatted away. The largest pot sailed low. He jumped away, but it clipped his knee.
The slasher charged Sammy, the knife held high. Sammy grabbed a two-foot-long cutting board and swung it at him. He jumped back, the board just missing him. Damn, she’d swung too soon. He lunged, slashing down, the knife biting into Sammy’s shoulder.
Sammy uncoiled, swinging the cutting board against his side. He tumbled back, crashing against the table. Her shoulder burned like fire with blood dripping down her arm.
The slasher stood about six feet away, holding his arm against his ribs and huffing through the mask like a bull getting ready to charge.
The blood matted her shoulder and down her arm, puddling at her feet. He must’ve gotten her good. She shook from a chill.
He steered the stainless-steel table out in front of him, rattling pots underneath it. Was he going to try to ram her? He reached down and flung a pot. Sammy ducked under it. He kicked the table. It slammed into her and knocked her to the floor. He jumped on top of the table and slashed down. Sammy grabbed the table’s legs and heaved up, the knife’s menacing arc just out of reach.
Sammy drew her legs in and kicked the table, sending it up and back. The slasher slid to the floor with the table on top of him. He rolled out from under it and dashed for the doors. She grabbed the upended table by the legs and whipped it along the floor at the slasher. He grabbed the leg and hopped on, then rode it to the door and out.
“What the hell?” Sammy dashed for the door. Her foot caught something slick on the floor and she stumbled. It was blood from the cut.
She scrambled to her feet, skidding on the tiled floor, and raced out the kitchen door. She peered into the lounge, no sign of him. The sound of gunfire drew her to the back. She rushed the door, but something was wedged against it.
Sammy ran through the lounge. Figures moved in the darkness like large meandering sea creatures in the night waters. She danced around them. The front door was choked off by people held back by an ape, his gun drawn.
She pushed her way through. “Where did he go?”
“Stay back,” the ape said, arm out.
Sammy ducked under his arm and jogged to Rhino, who was out front a few steps short of the sidewalk. “Did you see where he went?”
Rhino studied her. He nodded up the block across the street. “You know him?”
“It was the slasher,” Sammy said. “You might want to check on your guy in the back.”
“Grinder’s checking on Boulder.”
Sammy’s phone rang.
“Your phone works?”
Sammy fished out the phone. “Guess so.” It was Russo.
Rhino stared down at Sammy bathed in the glow of the phone. “Jesus, what happened to you?”
Sammy looked down. “It looks worse than it is.”
“Where are you?” Russo yelled.
Sammy held the phone away from her ear. “Don’t have to shout.”
“Stay where you are. I’ll pick you up myself.”
“Lucky me.”
Grinder bounded out from the back. “Boulder’s been shot. It doesn’t look good.”
“Who’s been shot?” Russo asked.
“I’m at the club. You better bring an ambulance.”
“You’ve been hurt?”
“It’s not for me.”
A gunshot sounded, reverberating in the quiet of the darkened streets. It couldn’t have been more than a block away. Sammy slipped the phone into her pocket and raced across the street.
Chapter Fifty-Seven
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A car was parked a few feet in from the corner of the next block down. The passenger-side window was blown out, glass littering the sidewalk. Sammy crouched down, peeking through the shattered window. Dmitri was slumped over the steering wheel, the side of his face caked with blood and the mask in his lap.
Sammy jumped at the sound of the phone ringing.
It was Russo. “If you’re not dead, I’m going to kill you.”
“Dmitri’s dead.”
“Who?”
“The guy who I thought was the slasher.”
His breath rushed through the phone. “Where are you?”
“A block down from the club.” Sammy checked the street sign. “On Leonard.”
“Can you stay put for once?”
“Where am I going to go? The slasher’s dead.”
“Don’t hang up either.”
Sammy walked around to the driver’s side, thinking the car looked different, then remembered that Bernie’s car had crashed. The door wasn’t latched. Did somebody sneak up and shoot him? She would’ve seen someone running away. She scoured the shadows, searching for lingering figures.
“You still there?” Russo asked.
“Looks like he killed himself.”
“Don’t touch anything.”
“I’m just looking,” Sammy said. “Is it okay if I look?”
Distant sirens wailed.
“I should be there soon.”
Dmitri wasn’t wearing the dark jacket, just a white shirt, although not so white anymore. Sammy scanned the back seat, nothing.
The blaring sirens grew louder. A cop car pulled in front of the club, and another double-parked by a limo. An ambulance pulled in front of the second car.
Sammy peered down the block, watching for Russo. A third cop car turned down and came toward her, lights flashing but no siren. It was Russo.
