This Girl Who Was A Ghost, page 5
part #2 of Near Future Series
Igor shook the bottle and smiled. “Are you eating?” He nodded to the bowl on the table.
Leo turned back. “Just finished.”
“I heard what you did for Cindy. I do not want to see her leave but what could I do? She is wanted criminal. If cops come, it is bad for everyone.”
“I’m sure you did what you had to do.”
“I got her job. I like her very much.”
Leo nodded.
“If that was thief? It wouldn’t be so hard.”
Leo took a nervous glance around.
“Cindy thinks the thief is a ghost.” Igor laughed. “She is on beach with loot she stole from Tatiana.”
“Or she could be close by and keeping quiet.” Leo said it like a warning.
Igor shrugged. “Who knows?”
“I’m sure she realizes that being inconspicuous is her best strategy.”
“You don’t always do what is best,” Igor said, scanning the ceiling. “Did you hear about Medusa on news?”
“Medusa?”
“From Greek myth. It is monster with snakes on head.”
Leo glanced around the room. “Snakes you say?”
“I know it is not snakes, but people will watch news if they say snakes.”
“An artifact of an active imagination, I’m sure.”
Igor laughed. “What will they think of next?”
“I’d hate to even speculate.”
Igor nodded, pounding on the wall. “Solid building. You won’t find better one anywhere.”
“What about all the mice?” Sammy asked.
Igor turned with a startled gaze. “Say something?”
Leo shook his head. “I was just thinking about being inconspicuous as a good strategy.”
Igor took a wary gaze over the room. “Yes, we do not want cops coming here.”
“Well, I have to get back to work,” Leo said, taking a step to the door.
“You make pills here too?”
“No, it’s a different project that accounts for endless frustration.”
“I could help. I have engineering degree from Saint Petersburg University.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“I will not ask for much.”
Sammy snickered. “Just some crumbs?”
Igor’s face looked panic-stricken. “You hear that?”
Sammy grinned. “It’s all those mice talking.”
Igor swallowed, searching the room.
Leo ushered him to the door. “It’s good to see a face.”
Sammy circled around and grabbed Igor’s foot.
Igor tumbled to the floor. “Something grabbed foot.”
“Are you sure it wasn’t a misstep?”
He scrambled to his feet. “No misstep.”
“I assure you it wasn’t me.”
Igor bolted to the door and slammed it behind him.
“I bet he’s starting to believe in ghosts now,” Sammy said.
Leo sighed. “You showed great restraint in adhering to the inconspicuous strategy.”
“Can’t get any more inconspicuous than me, Leo.”
“Perhaps I’ll invest in infrared eyewear and hand them out to all my guests.”
“You can see me with those?”
“Every detail.”
“Pervert.”
“You’re the one walking about naked.”
Sammy marched back to her bedroom.
Chapter Eleven
________________________________________
Sammy turned the corner, not knowing where she was going or why. She paused. The street was dark, and it wasn’t even in the zone. The block was thick with trees, the streetlights smudging strips of light on the ground like fallen leaves.
Normally, she’d avoid dark streets, but she could see as well as any cat in the dark. The idea of that made her giddy. She strode down the dark block, jumped up, and latched onto a tree branch. She took another look around, then swung, getting higher and higher. The branch on the next tree was within reach, so she let go and grabbed hold then looped up and around.
She stood a good ten feet up, surveying the prospects of making it down the block without touching the ground. She jumped, grabbed onto a branch farther out, and swung. The next tree’s branch was thinner, bending but not breaking. She dropped to a lower, thicker branch.
Sammy jumped, spun, and pivoted her way down to the last tree. Near the end, she went through without stopping and it felt like flying. She turned back to have another go at it, but this time she’d go nonstop. Sammy glided from branch to branch, moving from one tree to the next.
Two figures approached, silhouetted in the shadows. Sammy leapt up onto the branch, putting the trunk between her and them.
“What was that?” one of them asked.
“A bird?”
“Birds don’t come out at night. Got to be a bat.”
It was two guys. They strutted like they owned the street. One reached into his coat pocket and pulled out something. It glinted off a patch of streetlight. Was it a gun?
“What are you doing?”
“I hate bats.”
“Put it away.”
“Don’t tell me what to do.”
“We got business tonight. Don’t need cops coming down on us.”
“It’s the zone. Ain’t no cops here.”
The other guy pointed across the street. “The zone starts a block that ways.”
“Still don’t see any cops around.” Gun Happy lingered by the tree next to Sammy, looking up.
“Come on.”
He slipped the gun into his coat. “Don’t tell me what to do.”
“He’s leaving soon.”
Sammy swung back through the trees, keeping an eye on Gun Happy in case he turned back and started shooting. She figured she was moving more like a monkey than a bat, but at least it was better than a snake.
They crossed the street and disappeared behind the curving row of shuttered storefronts. They weren’t in the zone but close enough. Sammy climbed down and dashed across the street, staying close to the stores.
“Where does this guy live?” Gun Happy asked.
“The next block up.”
“Why weren’t we dropped off closer?”
“I’ll do the thinking. You do the shooting.”
“I’m not getting paid to walk.”
“You’re going to have to run after you pop this guy.”
Sammy swallowed. They’re going to kill somebody?
The row of stores ended midblock, opening up into an empty lot. Sammy slipped into the last store’s door well. What was she doing following these guys? Must’ve been crazy.
They strutted along the empty lot. Gun Happy glanced back before crossing the street.
The next block had trees at least, but it curved as well, so she couldn’t tell how far the trees went. The area was quiet. What could it hurt to walk a little? It wasn’t like she was following them or anything.
Sammy trotted along the open lot, crossed the street, and climbed up the corner tree. The two guys were a good hundred feet up from the corner. The trees weren’t as close, but they were big old sycamores. She ran along the thick branch, leaped, and grabbed hold of the next tree’s branch.
About midway up the block was a twenty-story apartment building with front-facing terraces, set back off the sidewalk with a wide sweeping front court and crowned with a lit fountain. It looked like it belonged in midtown.
Sammy leaped to the next tree, where she dangled by a finger. She wasn’t exactly quiet. Gun Happy turned back. She clambered up the branch. He slowed his pace, searching in her direction. Did he see her? She scampered to the trunk, balancing on a branch. They were still walking maybe seventy or eighty feet up ahead.
She opened up her jacket. It was a little warm tonight, but she needed the pockets to hide her hands. She made it to the next tree easily and took off the jacket, then draped it over a branch. This was the end of the line for the trees. She could either sit on a branch and watch the show or get down and get a closer look.
A long black car like the one Tatiana chauffeured drove into the front court, circling around to the front door. Could it be Golden Boy they were after? She blended and stripped, then crawled down. Sammy walked into the front courtyard, then stopped between the fountain and the front door. Gun Happy sat on the lip of the fountain and ran his hand through the water.
The other guy approached the car. “What are you doing here? Where is this guy?”
“Had no choice,” the driver said. “He wanted the car here before he came down. Think he suspects the hit?”
“You say something to him?”
The driver shook his head. “Been as quiet as a mouse.”
The guy surveyed the front of the apartment. “Maybe too quiet.”
“Been my regular self.”
“Yeah, you look regular.”
“I’m a little nervous. Who wouldn’t be?”
“Just nod when your guy comes out. Don’t want to be shooting the wrong guy.”
Gun Happy looked as if he were planning on launching a toy boat into the fountain pool.
The other guy marched over to him. “Twitchy is going to nod when your guy shows up.”
“Why don’t he drive us out of here? I’m not much for running.”
“Let me do the thinking, okay?”
“The guy was supposed to be waiting for us.”
“So shit happens.”
“Could be your thinking is shit.”
“Just worry about shooting.”
Gun Happy swatted at the water, sending a spray over the lip of the fountain. “There you go again telling me what to do.”
“Can’t explain everything to you.”
“Explain this to me, then,” Gun Happy said, rising slowly and putting his arm around the other guy’s shoulder. “How can you run with a busted foot?”
“Your feet are fine.”
“Not mine, yours.” Gun Happy sent his heel down hard onto the other guy’s foot.
The guy doubled over, grabbing his foot. “You broke my foot!”
“Guess we’re driving, then.”
The driver was nodding furiously. A balding middle-aged guy strode out the front with a boy of about ten galloping beside him. Gun Happy took purposeful strides toward them, whipping out the gun from under his jacket. The bald guy caught a glimpse of Gun Happy as he gazed up from the boy, looking confused. He opened his mouth as if to scream, eyes wide with terror. He grabbed the kid and pulled him in back, shielding him. The bald guy stood tall, pinning his shoulders back and glaring as if daring Gun Happy to shoot him. He shouted something that wasn’t English or Russian. It sounded like, “You will die a thousand deaths.” How did she know that?
Gun Happy aimed. “I don’t know what you said, but it’ll be your last.”
Sammy leaped and grabbed Gun Happy by the ankle, then yanked him down. He fell hard, the gun bouncing free.
The balding guy pounced on the gun and fired at the partner, who was reaching for his own gun. The bullet pierced his chest as the gun cleared the holster. The gun discharged as he fell back just steps from the fountain.
Sammy shrieked.
The balding guy waved the gun in her direction.
Sammy covered her mouth, hoping the blending was holding. A gust of wind blew a spray from the fountain, giving her a chill.
The balding guy yelled for the boy to go inside. The kid looked as drawn as Sammy felt. A second shout sent the kid on his way.
Sammy wanted to go too, but she was afraid to move.
Gun Happy stood and looked at his partner, who was panting for breath, his jacket splayed open. Blood bloomed out over his chest and stomach. Gun Happy’s gaze focused on his partner’s gun, whose fingers still caressed the handle. Would he try to go for it, or shout for him to shoot?
“You are not Albanian,” Balding Guy said with a heavy accent. “Who sent you?”
“It was nothing personal, buddy, just a job.” Gun Happy tugged on the waistband of his trousers, studying the guy holding the gun, sizing him up. “If I tell you what I know, will you let me go?”
The Albanian nodded, his face cold as stone.
“Don’t have much, but I know it was a business rival of yours who didn’t like a certain transaction. Your driver set it up. I’m guessing he could fill in the details.”
The Albanian’s lip curled as he glanced at the car. “Fred?”
Gun Happy nodded.
The Albanian waved the gun. “Go.”
Gun Happy spun and dashed for his life but was cut down by a bullet in the back. He crumpled to the ground, cursing every expletive known to man.
The Albanian grinned. “I let you go.” He marched to the car, gun held by his side.
Fred gunned the engine, squealing the tires around the loop and out the driveway.
The Albanian took out his phone and yelled in Albanian that he wanted Fred by the morning or… She didn’t get that last part, but she was still dumbfounded that she knew Albanian.
Sammy tiptoed around Gun Happy, whose face contorted in a shade of crimson as he pushed up to get into a crawl. She climbed the tree and slipped on her clothes. She turned away at the sight of the Albanian stomping on Gun Happy and shouting, “Just job.”
Chapter Twelve
________________________________________
Sammy crawled in through the window from Cindy’s apartment. Leo was at the dining room table, examining a 3-D image of her hand projected from the holo-screen.
“Cindy’s packing to leave.”
Leo jumped. “If you’re going to walk around like that, wear a bell.”
“She’s upset.”
“She’ll adapt.”
“Go over there right now and tell her she doesn’t have to listen to Igor.”
“He is the caretaker of this building.”
“The only thing he’s taking care of is himself. Probably has one of his Russian friends all lined up to take over the apartment.”
“You seem to have it all figured out. Why don’t you tell her?”
“Very funny.”
“You could always whisper to her in your ghostly voice.”
“You’re real funny today, Leo, been reading a book on it?”
“I’ve been reviewing your scans.”
Sammy glanced over at the holo-screen. It looked like a cross section of muscles and tendons. “Wish Cindy got the Ouija board. I’d tell her what to say to Igor.”
Leo expanded a section of her finger on the screen, then jotted down some notes.
“I’ll tell you exactly what to tell her. If you’re afraid of Igor, you can tell him that’s what I would’ve said.”
Leo glanced back. “I’m not going to engage in conversation unless you show yourself.”
“Fine.” Sammy shook free of the blend, but had forgotten she was naked. “Shit!” she screamed, running into her bedroom. She dressed and strode out. “You didn’t see me, did you? It’d be really weird if you did.”
“In that case, no.”
“Not very convincing.”
“Let me see your hand.”
Sammy laid her hand on the table in front of him. “I’ve been thinking about what to say.”
Leo squeezed her middle finger from the tip on down. “Sit.”
Sammy pulled the chair out and sat. “You tell her that Igor doesn’t own this building any more than she does. He’s just a squatter like her.”
“Pull in closer,” he said, reaching for a tape measure.
Sammy shuffled the chair closer. “You tell her that if he cuts her power, he’ll have ghostly nightmares until he puts it back on.”
Leo glanced at her with furrowed brows.
“If he’s mean to her, I can be mean to him.”
He ran the tape measure from the tip to the palm. “Almost two centimeters longer.”
“They’ve been growing since I got them.” How long would it be before she ran out of pocket room?
Leo picked up his trusty micrometer. He tightened the jaws around the base of her middle finger. “Thicker as well.”
“One goes with the other, doesn’t it?”
“I believe it’s because you’ve been using them for climbing walls and other activities I’m unaware of.”
Sammy’s stomach sank every time she thought about the Albanian. Next time she’d stay out of it, kid or not.
“Perhaps you enjoy the benefits they give you?”
“You think I want to look like a freak?”
“They give you greater control.”
“If I had control, I’d be living next door telling Igor what he could do with his eviction notice.”
“But you did trip him yesterday, and I suspect you enjoyed it.”
“I would’ve enjoyed it more if I grabbed him by the ankles and hung him out the window.”
“You certainly now have the strength to do it.”
“What does this have to do with my hands?”
“They’re not supposed to be this long.”
“Something went wrong?” Sammy asked, nodding to the screen.
Leo zoomed in on a section of her finger. He circled one part that looked like a tube stuffed into a box, then circled another farther down.
“What are they?”
“Growth segments.”
“Yeah, so they’re growing.”
He circled one by her palm. “But there’s none here.”
“They’re being added on like blocks?”
Leo nodded. “Take note of the knuckle area. It appears as if the finger bones have changed shape with added tendons and ligaments.”
Sammy leaned in, not sure she wanted to see what kind of freak she had become.
“Does this configuration remind you of anything?”
“Yeah, that I’m a freak.”
“It’s similar in design to retractable claws.”
“I have claws too?”
“No,” Leo said, losing patience. “The fingers should be able to retract.”
Sammy studied her hand. “You mean all the way back to normal?”
Leo shook his head. “With the added growth segments, the fingers are too long to retract.”
“So I’m stuck with these?”
“If severed at the first growth segment, they may be able to retract, and the fingers should appear fairly normal.”
