28

 

 

“Tom, Tom, it’s me!”

“Ray?”

“Of course! Keep your voice down. There’s hunters not far away. Wait now.”

Blaine waited, crouched beside the barred subway exit, peering around. He could see no sign of Melhill. There was no ectoplasmic vapor, nothing except a whispering voice.

“OK,” Melhill said “Walk west now. Quickly.”

Blaine walked, sensing Melhill’s invisible presence hovering near him. He said, “Ray, how come?”

“It’s about time I was some help,” Melhill said. “That old Kean contacted your girl friend and she got in touch with me through the Spiritual Switchboard. Wait! Stop right here.”

Blaine ducked back against the corner of a building. A heli cruised slowly by at housetop level.

“Hunters,” Melhill said. “There’s a field day on you, kid. Reward posted. Even a reward for information leading to. Tom, I told Marie I’d try to help. Don’t know how long I can. Drains me. It’s hereafter for me after this.”

“Ray, I don’t know how—”

“Cut it out. Look Tom, I can’t talk much. Marie has fixed a deal with some friends of hers. They’ve got a plan, if I can get you to them. Stop!”

Blaine stopped and found shelter behind a mailbox. Long seconds passed. Then three hunters hurried by, sidearms ready. After they turned a corner, Blaine was able to start walking again.

“Some eyes you have,” he said to Melhill.

“The vision’s pretty good up here,” Melhill said. “Cross this street fast.”

Blaine sprinted across. For the next fifteen minutes, at Melhill’s instructions, he wound in and out of streets, advancing and retreating across the battleground of the city.

“This is it,” Melhill said at last. “That door over there, number 341. You made it! I’ll see you, Tom. Watch—”

At that moment, two men rounded a corner, stopped, and stared hard at Blaine. One said, “Hey, that’s the guy!”

“What guy?”

“The guy they got the reward out for. Hey you!”

They ran forward. Blaine, his fists swinging, quickly chopped the first man into unconsciousness. He whirled, looking for the second, but Melhill had the situation well in control.

The second man had his hands over his head, trying to guard himself. A garbage can cover, levitating mysteriously, was clanging angrily around his ears. Blaine stepped forward and finished the job.

“Damn good,” Melhill said, his voice very weak. “Always wanted to try ghosting. But it drains … Luck, Tom!”

“Ray!” Blaine waited, but there was no answer, and the sense of Melhill’s presence was gone.

Blaine waited no longer. He went to number 341, opened the door and stepped in.

He was in a narrow hallway. At the end of it was a door. Blaine knocked.

“Come in,” he was told.

He opened the door and walked into a small, dingy, heavily curtained room.

Blaine had thought he was proof against any further surprises. But it gave him a start all the same to see, grinning at him, Carl Orc, the body snatcher. And sitting beside him, also grinning, was Joe, the little Transplant peddler.