Acheron Highway: A Jonathan Shade Novel (21 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

As soon as I walked into the dojo, Esther saw me, made a face, then popped away.

“Nice to see you too,” I said.

Kelly sat on the bleachers in front of the tatami mats clad in her gi and pants.
 
She shook her head.
 
There were no official classes on Sundays, so we had the place to ourselves.

Brand approached me with a grin.
 
“So the
Shademeister
got lucky last night.”
 
He held out his fist for a bump.

I just stared at him.

“Don’t leave me hanging here.”
 
He waved his fist.
 
“Come on, Shade.
 
You should be smiling after the night you had.
 
I’d do Miranda six ways from Sunday.”

“We have some training to do,” I said.

He lowered his fist.
 
“You’re lame.
 
I hope you never get laid again.”

“Dream on.”

“Yeah, I guess there are prostitutes.”

“Funny.”

Brand shrugged.
 
“Actually, it’s a victimless crime.
 
If it were legal, I’d partake every now and then.
 
It would be cheaper than dating, and you’d get what you paid for with no bullshit.”
 
He glanced over at Kelly.

“You’re not getting any tonight either,” she said.

“Whatever.”
 
He turned back to me.
 
“See there?
 
If it were legal, I could slap a few hundred bucks down on the table at a whore house and take my pick from the menu.”

“Go to Nevada.”

“I think they charge more than that.”

“Probably.”

“Might be worth it, though.”

“Are we going to train or what?”

Kelly rose and walked over.
 
“Your sexual exploits upset Esther.”

“I noticed.”

“She’s just jealous,” Brand said.
 
“Girl hasn’t had any for over eighty years.
 
Can you blame her?
 
Maybe she could hook up with a horny poltergeist.”

“It doesn’t work like that,” Kelly said.

“Why?
 
Ghosts have erectile dysfunction?
 
I guess they must.
 
Insubstantial little pricks, aren’t they?”

Kelly nodded at me.
 
“You should apologize to her.”

“For what?
 
Getting laid?”

“She has a thing for you, Jonathan.
 
Until recently she could pretend you weren’t sleeping with anyone because she wasn’t there to see it.”

“You have a point.”

Brand scratched his head.
 
“Ghosts can’t get undressed either.
 
That might make it tough to get some
ectoplasmic
action too.”

“Get changed and do some stretches,” Kelly said.
 
“I’ll get some weapons out.”

I went to the men’s room to change.
 
I kept some workout clothes in a locker.
 
As I pulled off my shirt, my cell phone rang.
 
I tossed the shirt on the bench and checked the phone.
 
I didn’t recognize the number, so I was tempted to ignore it, but instead I ran my finger across the screen to answer.

“You’ve reached the ghost sex hotline.
 
How may I direct your call?”

“Do you ever just answer the phone with a simple ‘hello’?” Sharon asked.

“I tried that once.
 
It was a bill collector.”

“How are things going?”

“The dead folks seem to have stopped their protest movement.”

“Kelly told me you were injured.”

“I’m fine.
 
Just a scratch.”

“You’re not allowed to get killed.
 
I have plans for you.”

“I thought it was just a potential plan.”

“It’s looking more likely.
 
You might be getting another round of visits from the Underworld soon.
 
The spirits went back and they’ve been lining up again.
 
Bob thinks they might start cycling back through once enough people die.”

“I don’t have a clue how many people die each day here.”

“In Colorado?
 
Probably around eighty or so per day, but I’d have to search to get specifics for just the Front Range.”

“So I guess wiping out the bodies helped, and the skeletons didn’t fare so well against Kelly and Brand.”

“You should have called me.”

“I survived.
 
It’s more important to keep you safe, though Kelly mentioned you said they weren’t looking to kill you.”

Sharon sighed.
 
“I’m just going to have to face her.”

“She did pay me a visit or two.”

“Really?
 
One or two?
 
Which is it?”

“One for sure, but I remember her showing up at the hospital too.
 
That might have been a dream, though.”

“What did she say?”

“She said she wanted you.
 
She gave me a few days to get you to show up or she’ll kill everyone I ever met or some such.”

“Jonathan, this is important.
 
What did she say exactly?”

“I don’t remember.
 
I was drugged up and out of it.”

“You need to go back there in your mind.
 
Get as close to what she said as you can recall.
 
Take a minute if you need to, but I need to know.”

“OK.
 
She said I had three days to find you and bring you to her or she’d kill all of my friends.”

“When was this?”

“Uh, Thursday, I think.”

“And today is?”

“Sunday.”

“That means she’s giving you until today?”

“If it was even her at the hospital.”

“It was her.”

“So what, she’s going to show up today to kill everyone?”

“Time moves differently where she is.
 
Unless she’s near, which is possible, I suppose.”

“So what do you suggest?”

Sharon was silent for a time.
 
“I’m going to have to see her.
 
But I can’t do it today.”

“When will you be ready?”

“Never.”

“Not really an option.”

“Fine.
 
Give me until Wednesday.
 
Get her to show up someplace where we can have a meeting without too many dead people getting involved.”

“How am I supposed to find her?”

“I think she’ll find you.”

“OK, I think I know a good place to meet.
 
The Royal Gorge bridge down in
Cañon
City should work.
 
It’s a bit of a drive, but we can have a private chat without too many dead folks getting to us at any given time.
 
And this time of year, it shouldn’t be crowded.”

“Fine with me.
 
I’ll step through on Wednesday afternoon at four o’clock.”

“Center of the bridge,” I said and disconnected.

I sat down on the bench and thought about the first time I’d met Sharon.
 
Of course, back then, she was a he and went by the name
Charon
.
 
My mind drifted back to that encounter and conversation three and a half years ago when I died.

“You aren’t a normal man,” Charon had said.
 
He stared at me from beneath his cowl.
 
I tried but couldn’t see his face.

“I’m as normal as the next guy,” I said.
 
“Where am I?”

We stood on a boat built from human bones.
 
The boat was still tied to a pier.

“You are at the Acheron,” Charon said.

“Right.
 
If I remember the song, I’m not supposed to pay the you until you get me to the other side.”

“Song?”
 
He snapped his fingers, and the chorus from Chris
DeBurgh’s
“Don’t Pay the Ferryman” started playing around us.
 
Magic can be fun and useful if you don’t even need an iPod.
 
The chorus ended and Charon nodded.
 
“I always liked that song.”

“You have any AC/DC?”

Charon
laughed and snapped his fingers, and “Hell’s Bells” started playing.
 
“Or maybe this,” he said and sure enough, “Highway to Hell” started up.

“You’d be great at parties,” I said.

“I like your world, Jonathan Shade.”

“How do you know about it?”

“We’ve had cable for years.
 
Magically, of course.
 
We need to keep up with world events to some degree.
 
Do you remember how you died?”

“I’m dead?”

“For nearly thirty seconds in your world.
 
Observe.”
 
He waved his hand, and an image of me lying on the street with a gunshot wound to my chest shimmered in the air.
 
Kelly knelt over me, trying to give me CPR.

“Shit,” I said.
 
“That’s right.
 
That asshole shot me.”

“Indeed.”

The image shimmered more and faded away like ripples in a pond.

“Why are we talking?
 
Shouldn’t I be going toward the light or something?”

“Many souls come here.
 
Many go elsewhere.
 
Many simply end.
 
Some are reborn.”

“So I’m dreaming.
 
Heaven, hell, nirvana, purgatory, reincarnation, New Age shit, all of it can’t be right.”

“The religions and beliefs of your world don’t have any bearing on reality, Jonathan.”

“But the Greeks had it right?”

“The Greeks and the Egyptians knew of us to some degree, but the stories in your world are a far cry from reality.”

“And the Bible?”

“Total nonsense.”

“So there’s no god?”

“Not in the sense you mean.
 
There are beings who would be perceived as gods by your people, of course, but that’s a different thing altogether.”