The Black (19 page)

Marsh wasn't there. Both my parents' cars and Sydney's silver Beetle were gone too. Was it possible they'd gone back to Stony Brook? It wasn't likely, not before they figured out what had happened to me.

I closed my eyes and stepped away from the house, arriving in downtown Thistledown. I hoped that maybe Marsh was poking around. It was as good a place as any to look for him.

I walked along the street, invisible to everyone. It was cool and sad at the same time. I saw people I knew and some I wished I'd never met. I kept wanting to say something, but knew they couldn't see or hear me. The longer I was there,
the more it made my heart ache. I didn't want to be a ghost. I wanted my life back. I wanted to hang out with Britt and party at the drive-in. I wanted to argue with my sister again. I wanted to play Uno with my parents. I wanted to be me.

Damon had offered me the chance to do all that. All I had to do was help him find his mystical weapon. But what would happen once he got it? If he got his life back, he wouldn't be returning to ancient Macedonia. He'd be part of the twenty-first century. How much damage could he really do? I mean, he'd just be some freak in a Halloween costume. He
had no army. Or country. Or power. If he started causing trouble, he'd be locked up. He had more power as a spirit than he would as a living human.

Would bringing him back to life really be all that bad?

I didn't get the chance to come up with an answer because I caught sight of Sydney's silver Beetle pulling out of the parking lot of the mini golf course. Score. I had no idea where she was going so I did the only thing I could think of . . . I ran after the car and hopped onto the back bumper. Why not? What would happen if I fell off? Being a ghost had some advantages.

Looking in through the back window I saw that Marsh was with her. Double score. My plan was to stick with them until I could figure out some way to help guide them to the truth about what happened to me. Once that was done, I'd worry about how to get Damon off Marsh's back.

Sydney drove to a remote part of town where I'd never been before. She turned onto a country lane that was no more than two ruts of dirt. For a second I thought she and Marsh were looking for a place to make out, but that was about as unlikely as anything I'd seen since I'd been dead.

As I rode along, it struck me that I wasn't the least bit tired. Or hungry. Time really had no meaning to me anymore. Too bad. That was another thing I missed about being
alive. Sleeping. And dreaming. And lying in bed until noon.

When we arrived at our destination, everything became clear. The rutted road opened up to a clearing where a ramshackle trailer home was parked in the center of what could best be described as a junkyard. I had no doubt that this was George 0.'s house. The old man had done it. He gave Marsh a clue and Marsh had run with it. Nice going, Ralph.

He and Sydney got out of the car and surveyed the mess.

Marsh, always the philosopher, said, "Some people would look at this and see junk. Others see history."

Sydney snapped back with, "But most wouldn't be caught dead here. I'm not sure what category we're in."

I missed those guys.

While they looked around, I went inside because I had the advantage of knowing what to look for.
The trailer was a sad place that was full of tools and trash. I tried not to imagine George 0. living in that squalor and focused on looking for the room he had boarded up to keep Gravedigger out. It didn't take long. There were only three rooms.

The walls of his bedroom were covered with planks that he'd nailed up. I imagined him lying in his bed, terrified, thinking he was safely boarded up inside, and seeing Gravedigger float through the wall. He was lucky not to have died of a heart attack right there.

I checked out each and every board until I found the one I was looking for. Where the others were weathered gray, this was painted blue. It really stood out from the others, especially since the word "Galileo" was painted on it in black. I didn't think you could miss it.

I was wrong.

Marsh and Sydney got to the bedroom soon after. They opened the door and were both surprised when a length of board fell down at their feet. They had no idea what they were looking for and I didn't know how to help them. While
they searched the room, I focused on the blue board, trying to get it to rattle, or wiggle, or do anything that would draw their attention. It didn't budge. I looked around, hoping to see something I might be able to levitate and float in front of the board to get their attention, but nothing was light enough for me to move.

"Look at the board!" I shouted in frustration.

They didn't. They checked drawers and even looked under the bed, but they didn't examine the boards that were nailed to the wall.

"Let's check the kitchen," Marsh said, and that was it. The two left the room without seeing the clue George 0. had meant for them to find. I was frantic. I couldn't think of anything to get them to come back. I was about to run after them when I heard a voice that stopped me cold.

"Why is it so important to you that they learn of your fate?"

I turned quickly to see Damon examining the blue board.

I tried not to show him how surprised I was. "Closure, I guess."

It was only a small lie. What I really wanted was for Marsh to know that I was a ghost and doing my best to protect him from Damon.

"Well, then," he said. "Let me offer you a sign of good faith."

Damon turned to the wall that was opposite the blue board and closed his eyes. Suddenly light appeared through the cracks between the boards nailed in front of the window as if a high intensity spotlight had been turned on outside. A focused beam of light flashed out of the bedroom door and along the length of the trailer, toward Marsh and Sydney. Damon was doing just what I wanted to do, but couldn't.

Marsh and Sydney saw the strange light and did exactly
what you'd expect . . . they followed it back to the bedroom.

Marsh entered first, his eyes focused on the light that was moving across the floor, headed for the wall with the blue board. He said, "Whatever's doing that, it wants us in here." Marsh was getting with the program. He had accepted
the possibility that supernatural forces were at work.

"I want to leave, Marsh," Sydney said nervously.

Damon made the light travel across the floor, up the wall,
and come to rest on the blue board and the word "Galileo." Sydney and Marsh stared at the board curiously.

"Is that it?" Sydney asked.

"C'mon," I coaxed them both. "Look closer."

They didn't. Both were too freaked out by what was happening to play detective.

Sydney, as usual, was growing impatient. "Yeah, and?" she said sarcastically.

Damon had even less patience. He opened his eyes and glared at the wall. Instantly the board shuddered as if it had been hit from the outside. Marsh and Sydney both jumped.

It was exactly what Marsh needed. He braced himself and stepped forward, staring at the board.

"Go, Ralph." I coaxed. "Look closer."

Marsh squinted at the bright spot of light on the letters, and gasped.

"Oh my god."

"What? What?" Sydney asked.

"Galileo."

Damon had done it. It would only be a matter of time before Marsh put it all together. I was certain of that. I only wished that I didn't have Damon to thank for it.

A second later both of us were back on the street of Damon's village in the Black. It wasn't even disorienting. I was getting used to jumping around between dimensions.

Damon stood with his foot up on the fountain and a satisfied smile on his scarred face.

"I guess I should thank you," I said. "Then again, you killed me, so it was the least you could have done."

"Now it is your turn," Damon said, all business. "Find the crucible in the Black and destroy it."

"Then I get my life back?"

"No, your friend must then locate the poleax in the Light. Once I have the weapon, I will leave your friend in peace and restore your former life. Is that too high a price to pay for getting yourself out of, what do you call it, Trouble Town?"

It pissed me off that he knew so much about me.

"And what happens to you?" I asked.

Damon looked around the ancient courtyard. "I wish I could say that I would also be returning to my former life, but that opportunity is long past. My goal is to leave this prison and right the wrongs that put me here."

"What does that mean?"

Damon leaned in close and gave me a cold stare. The scars on his face pulsed red. It turned my stomach.

"Those who are responsible for my being here will regret their treachery," he said. "You called me the devil, but did you consider there might actually be something worse?"

The idea that multiple levels of evil existed and Damon wasn't even the worst was a horrifying concept.

"So this is all about getting revenge?"

"Call it what you like."

"Okay, what if I agreed? I don't even know where to start looking for the crucible."

Damon reached into a small leather pouch that was fixed to his waist and pulled something out.

"This once belonged to my most trusted ally. A soldier named Adeipho. We were like brothers . . . until he betrayed
me. And scarred me. I have carried this with me since that day. Use it to locate his vision."

He opened his hand. In his palm was a gnarly, brown piece of fungus that looked like an old mushroom.

"I took this from him the moment before he ended my life," Damon explained. "We were in battle and he did not part with it easily."

"What is it? A mushroom?"

"No. An ear."

"Ow!" I blurted out in disgust and backed off a step. "That's just . . . wrong."

"It is a piece of him, a connection that will allow you to locate him."

"It's a piece of him, all right. Geez, you gotta be kidding me."

"You asked how you can find the crucible and I am giving you that knowledge."

I looked at the mummified ear and forced myself not to gag. "So this is all about you getting even with some guys who betrayed you? That's it?"

"Surely you can understand that," he answered.

I looked up from the shriveled ear and held Damon's gaze. "I want my life back," I said with finality.

"Destroying the crucible will be your first step back along the road," he replied.

I reached out and picked up the ear with two fingers. It felt like a dried apricot. My stomach flipped.

Damon chuckled and said, "I knew you would agree."

"Yeah, well, I always find my way out of Trouble Town." Damon smiled, revealing his two
daggerlike
teeth. Seeing them made me realize exactly what had happened. I had just made a pact with the devil.

14

I had agreed to help a murderer.
My
murderer.

What choice did I have? If I listened to Gramps and did nothing, Damon would kill Marsh and find some other way to get his precious weapon. He'd already waited a few thousand years. What would a few thousand more be? Time meant nothing in the Black. And who was I to judge him for wanting revenge on the guys who betrayed him and cut him up? It sounded like they were just as nasty as he was. Maybe worse. Maybe I'd be doing the universe a favor by unleashing Damon's revenge on them. And how bad would it really be if Damon returned to the Light, alive? What was he going to do? Organize another Macedonian army? A couple of navy SEALS would eat him for lunch. Damon might be less of a threat as a human than as a spirit. The way I looked at it, I was helping to put an end to his treachery
for good. I had a lot of reasons to justify the decision I'd made, but one counted above all others:

I didn't want to be dead anymore.

If I had a chance to go back and pick up life where I'd left off, I was going to take it. To do that, I had to help
Damon. So with a shriveled ear in my pocket – disgusting – I left Damon’s vision of the Black and made one stop before beginning my search to find the owner of the ear.
I wanted to tell Gramps what I was planning to do. He was the closest thing to a parent I had and I didn't think it would be right to make such a bold move without him knowing.

Needless to say, he wasn't happy.

"Coop, you can't," he cried. "You just can't."

Gramps was in his yard picking tomatoes. I used to love raiding his garden armed with a salt shaker. It made me wish I was six again. And not dead.

"I don't have a choice, Gramps," I said.

"Yeah, you do. What'll happen if things don't work out like you think? I told you before, there's trouble brewing."

"And what if the guy bringing that trouble is Adeipho? You should see what he did to Damon. He's not a good guy."

"Listen to yourself, Cooper. You've got this all twisted around so it'll work out the way you want it to because you think Damon can give you your life back."