Dead Endings Book 2 (Dead Leads): Chapter 7

It was nearing evening when they arrived at the battered-looking door that marked “Professor” Isley’s office. Cailen’s curiosity had reached an all-time high. She didn’t know of many men–any men, really–who had not fallen to Gabriella’s charms. Now that one was right behind the door in front of her, it almost felt like she’d be getting a glimpse of a unicorn.

They’d been directed to his office by a plump, matronly woman who had been a little too interested in their visit. Gabriella had politely, then firmly, declined her offer to walk them to his room, but now that they stood there, her drive seemed to have petered out.

Cailen nudged her with an elbow. “C’mon, it’ll be fine.”

“Ugh, it’s so awkward! Last time I saw him, I… Mmmrrrr, maybe this is a bad idea. What if he’s completely weirded out?”

“You’re worrying too much. Look, we have a good reason, and we didn’t come empty handed.”

Cailen held up the fragrant takeout bag. “No one in their right mind says no to Fatty Daddy fish tacos, and besides, you’ll get a feel from his aura. If it doesn’t look positive, we can just escort ourselves out and get some consolation lemonade.”

Strangely, Gabriella didn’t seem cheered in the slightest.

“That’s part of the problem,” she sighed. “I can’t read him. Like, at all.”

“What? Why?”

“He knows how to mask his aura. How else do you think I ended up making a fool of myself with him?”

Cailen blinked. That was a first for her. Gabriella walking into a social situation blind like everyone else? Oh, this was going to be good.

“Well…too late,” Cailen declared, and knocked.

Gabriella’s mouth dropped open, but before she could say anything, a deep voice from within called, “Yes?”

“U-ummm,” Gabriella stammered.

“Hello!” Cailen said cheerfully. “We’re here to see Professor Isley.”

“My office hours are between twelve and three,” the voice countered.

“We’re not students, sir.”

They waited patiently while the inside party considered this. Cailen got the distinct impression that he was trying to think of a decent excuse to send them off. She glanced up and saw Gabriella’s hopeful face implying the same thing.

“It’s important,” Cailen added loudly.

She felt more than saw Gabriella’s hot glare. Her smile widened.

“All right. Come in,” said the voice.

Cailen turned the knob and pushed the door open.

Professor Isley’s office was small and cramped. A glorified closet, Cailen thought as she squeezed in past a folded metal chair. Two towering metal bookshelves occupied both side walls, crowding a squat desk in the center. Behind that desk sat a somewhat disheveled man nearing his fifties, wearing a charcoal gray blazer with blue elbow pads. He had dark hair and a careless beard. Thick tortoiseshell glasses framed light brown eyes that crinkled at the sides as Cailen and Gabriella entered. Maybe they had misjudged the mood.

“Gabriella,” he said warmly. “And a friend…?”

Tension seemed to drain from the woman. “Professor,” she said politely, stepping forward. “This is Cailen, my roommate.”

Cailen beamed at him. “Hi.”

When Gabriella failed to continue, Isley silently studied them both. His eyes lingered on the space just above Cailen’s head and something seemed to click behind the tortoiseshell frames.

“I take it this isn’t a social call?” he said.

Gabriella sighed. “May I?” she asked, indicating the open door. He nodded and she closed it firmly behind them.

“Sir,” she continued. “I don’t mean to bother you, but there’s something we need your help with.”

Cailen held up the takeout bag. “We brought tacos.”

Isley didn’t seem to know what to make of that, but he gestured for her to set it on his desk.

“Is this what you would call a ‘sensitive’ matter?” he asked.

She nodded.

“Have a seat and tell me about it, then,” he offered.

The two girls stared at the single folding chair.

“Ah,” he said, and shifted some books off another folding chair beside him. He folded it up, hefted it up, and handed it over the desk to Gabriella.

Once seated, Gabriella began again.

“Sir, we need someone found. He’s very dangerous, and we need to stop him before anyone else gets hurt.”

Isley raised an eyebrow.

“Before anyone else dies,” Cailen clarified.

The professor sat up a little straighter.

“Tell me from the beginning,” he instructed, and Gabriella did.

He listened without comment, only interrupting once or twice for clarification on some point. Cailen added in her own observations, and watched him curiously. The varying degrees of interest and apathy within the spirit community had surprised her. Would Isley fall on the for or against side of the “going public” debate? It was hard to tell from his reactions. He didn’t give much away.

“…And that’s where we are,” Gabriella summed up. “We don’t know where he is, we don’t know what he’ll do next, and we don’t know how to find him so we can stop him.”

“And you want me to locate the boy?” Isley asked.

Gabriella nodded.

The professor leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers. “I play no part in the community, and that’s the way I like it.”

“I know, sir,” Gabriella said. “But this isn’t political or personal. It’s just wrong, and no one else is going to do anything unless we handle it.”

“And this ‘Conner’ intends on taking it all public?”

“That’s what he says, anyway.”

Isley took off his glasses and stared at the bookshelf for a while.

“If he does, he’ll attract more than public attention,” he said carefully.

Gabriella’s jaw tightened. “Maybe, but…”

The professor cocked his head. “You still think they’re harmless?”

Cailen was lost. “Who? What’s harmless? Or not harmless?”

They both looked at her.

“How much does she know about…all this?” Isley asked Gabriella.

“She’s new,” Gabriella explained.

“And riiiiight here,” Cailen reminded them.

Isley motioned for Gabriella to elaborate.

“He’s referring to the Church,” she said neutrally.

Cailen was both surprised and yet somehow not all. “The Church? Like, the pope and all that stuff that goes with it?”

Isley nodded. “And all that stuff that goes with it,” he confirmed.

“He exaggerates,” Gabriella said.

“Do I?”

“Yes,” she said firmly. “You do. It’s borderline conspiracy theory stuff, and it has nothing to do with this.”

Isley spread his hands in acquiescence, though he obviously disagreed. Cailen logged it away to bring up later. She’d thought she was in the know about all the ghost stuff now, but it seemed she was wrong.

“Anyway,” Gabriella said, “we really, really need your help. I know how you feel about this stuff, and how much you’d prefer not to get involved, but we don’t want anyone else, human or spirit, to get hurt by this kid. Please…”

The professor ran a hand through his rumpled hair. “I’m really not…”

Cailen nudged the fish tacos closer to him with a wink.

He sighed. “I can try and have a look next week after term, but–”

“Sir, it’s very, very urgent that we find this kid fast,” Gabriella pleaded. “I wouldn’t be so pushy–honestly, I wouldn’t–but he WILL do this again. And maybe it won’t be a bystander he accidentally kills this time, but himself.”

Cailen watched reluctance war with Isley’s conscience on his face. She felt for the guy. Those were her basic thoughts on the matter, too. Damn nagging morals. They made it very difficult for even a hardened cynic like her to ignore certain things.

In the end, it seemed he was a pretty decent guy, after all. He agreed and committed himself to “in a few days’ time” rather than “next week.” Cailen nodded her approval. The fish tacos had been worth it.

As they saw themselves out of his office with a promise to return with more specific location info, Cailen chewed over the moral question. Bystanders were one thing, but if the kid blew himself up playing with fireworks, she wouldn’t feel too torn up about it. Not that she’d ever tell that to Gabriella.

***

When they got back to the apartment, a familiar form was sitting on the stairs by their door. Everett did not look particularly cheerful that day.

“Hey,” Cailen greeted.

His face fell at the sight of them.

“You guys have been ignoring me,” he said unhappily.

Cailen pulled out her phone and saw that she’d missed several calls. She so rarely used the thing that it was hardly a surprise, but Everett was a sensitive soul, so she tried to look apologetic.

“Sorry,” she said. “We were out. I didn’t even notice.”

Everett’s hangdog face swung to Gabriella. She looked guilty.

“Uh, want to come in?” Cailen asked.

Once inside, Cailen prodded Everett to the sofa while she got herself a bag of Cheetos. Over the deafening first crunches of the cheesy snacks, she heard Gabriella saying, “…orry. I’ve just got a lot on my plate right now.”

“But I’m trying to help,” Everett said.

Gabriella sighed. “I know, I know. This is just…bigger than you right now, bigger than what you can do. Bigger than the book. I have to–”

“Me? How have I…? And the book? This has nothing to do with the book!”

Cailen hung back in the kitchen and munched nervously as she watched.

“I’m just saying that I don’t have time for every little thing you want to know right now,” Gabriella said, her annoyance making her voice rise. “I’ve been on the line all day trying to get help to track this kid down, I had to beg a favor from the most embarrassing of places, and I still have to go to Jan’s later! I don’t have time to play Ghostfacers with you!”

Everett’s eyes widened in shock and hurt. His mouth worked, but nothing came out. They stared at each other for a moment until a Cheeto crunch that Cailen couldn’t entirely muffle jolted him back into motion.

“Fine,” he said quietly, standing up. “Do what you want. Look at it or don’t look at it, I don’t care. I’ll be off ‘playing’ detective. I won’t get in your way with my sorry excuse for an ability.”

Gabriella’s nostrils flared, but she didn’t say anything as he turned and left. Cailen shot her a look and ran for the door to catch him before he left the building.

“Whoa, whoa,” she said, snagging his arm as he descended the stairs. “Everett, wait.”

“It’s fine,” he said, not looking at her. He took a deep breath. “I’ve got plenty of things I need to do to, too.”

“She didn’t mean it,” Cailen assured him. “She’s just tired and strung out. We’ve all had a long week, and she took it out on you. Sorry.”

Everett hesitated. “She thinks I can’t handle it. That my power isn’t useful…”

Cailen rolled her eyes. “Ev, Gabriella just doesn’t appreciate the subtle things. She’s a tank and likes to mow stuff down. I love her, but she can be a little blind when it comes to anything not right in front of her, you know?”

He still seemed uncertain.

Cailen chewed the inside of her cheek, uncomfortable in the position of being the nice one. She laid a hammy hand on his shoulder. “We wouldn’t have made any progress with this kid without your info–”

Everett’s frown returned.

“–or your ability.”

The muscles under her hand relaxed a little.

“Just let her cool off,” Cailen said soothingly. She gave him a pat.

“All right,” he said. “I’m still going to keep looking into this, though. I have a lead, and you guys REALLY need to see that video.”

Cailen nodded, then stopped. “Video?”

It was Everett’s turn to sigh. “The one I called you about, texted you, and then emailed you with the subject line: URGENT?”

“Oh. Uh, what’s it–”

“Just watch it. You’ll see,” he said, and started back down the stairs.

“Keep me in the loop on your end!” she called after him.

Cailen heard the security door click and belatedly remembered that they had a sort-of lead themselves that she’d forgotten to mention. She’d tell him about it after she watched the mystery video.

Returning to their apartment, Cailen first went to the coffee maker and poured herself and Gabriella each a cup. She added ice and stirred a generous amount of milk into each.

Gabriella stood by the window, staring out at the overflowing trash bins. She accepted the drink without comment. Cailen went to the couch and perched on the arm to wait. She didn’t have to wait long.

“Not going to say anything?” Gabriella murmured.

“Do I need to?”

Gabriella pressed her forehead to the glass.

“No, I guess not. I was a jerk.”

“Yep.”

“I just…”

“I know.”

“He can be so…”

“Uh huh.”

“He doesn’t under–”

“Ah-ah,” Cailen interrupted her. “That’s where you’re wrong. He’s as invested in this as you are, and we never would have found the kid–both times!–without him. You’re not giving him due credit because he can be annoying.”

Gabriella sniffed.

“And it’s not just that,” Cailen continued. “What’s with all this size-queen stuff? Or would you call it being a “power-queen”…?”

“What? I’m not…”

“You are.”

Gabriella studied her a moment. Then she made a face. “Sometimes I hate that I can read auras.”

“It does make it hard to lie to you,” Cailen conceded.

Gabriella sighed. “All right. Fine. I’ll work on it.”

“Good enough for me. Now, what about this video?”

Her roommate shrugged and took a sip of her iced coffee. “Search me. I haven’t even looked at his messages.”

“I’ll get my laptop,” Cailen said.

Liberating it from the dark recesses under her bed, Cailen set it up on the kitchen counter. She pulled up her email and found three of Everett’s earnest attempts to get her attention waiting in her inbox. She clicked open the most recent one.

It was brief.

Dodgy waterfront. South of the Queensboro Bridge. Hunter’s Point? -Everett

Baffled, she opened the email sent right before that.

Cailen, did you guys watch it? Did you see the walls of the warehouse? And you can kind of make out bridge lights through the upper windows. Blue! -Everett

Gabriella squinted over her shoulder. “Skip to the good stuff. I don’t know what any of that is supposed to mean yet.”

Cailen dutifully opened the first email he’d sent, the one he’d mentioned that was marked “URGENT.”

Inside the email was a YouTube link and the shortest message yet. You’re not going to believe this! -Everett

Cailen clicked the link and maximized the video. The video was labeled “PROOF: Real, documented poltergeist in action.”

They looked at each other. The video began to play.

“Today,” said a disembodied voice, “I am here to demonstrate something which has always been among us, yet rarely seen or understood.”

“Conner!” Gabriella hissed over Cailen’s shoulder.

Lights flashed on in the video, and they were treated to a view of the inside of a derelict warehouse. Crates and barrels were stacked against the walls, but the center of the space was clear. On a dirt floor, several sets of feet came into focus. The camera lifted.

Three men and a smaller figure stood next to a simple fold-out table. Two of the men wore balaclavas that covered everything but their eyes, and the smaller figure–Aiden, Cailen guessed–wore a red and gold luchadora mask. The third man was unmasked. It was Conner.

Conner stepped to the forefront. “Today’s video will be brief, but that’s because you will only need a few minutes to appreciate the phenomenon I’m about to show you. Gentlemen, if you would…” He motioned to the two men wearing balaclavas. They disappeared offscreen and returned with two boxes. As they started emptying the contents onto the table, Conner began again.

“This boy,” he said, laying a hand on Aidan’s shoulder, “has a very special ability. He can summon poltergeists.”

The boy giggled behind his mask.

“People with abilities like this exist,” Conner said solemnly. “The spirit world is real. Ghosts are real. This is what I’ll show you today.”

He guided the boy to one side of the table so that the audience could view what had been placed upon it. Cailen craned her neck trying to get a closer look until the camera obliged her and zoomed in.

A collection of glasses had been stacked in a tidy pyramid on the left side of the table. In the center was what looked like a battery-powered lamp, the shade removed so that its bare, dully glowing bulb was uncovered. On the right side of the table sat a half-full, oversized water jug, like the kind used in offices with water coolers.

“Showtime,” Conner instructed the boy.

Aidan stepped forward and folded his arms in front of him. Cailen thought she could make out another faint giggle. It might have just been her imagination, though.

At first, nothing happened. The two men in balaclavas had moved to the background, and one of them shuffled impatiently. Or nervously, Cailen amended, as both suddenly froze and the fidgeting turned into half-steps of retreat.

Are they sensitives, too? she wondered. Did they feel the supernatural fury building as Aidan severed the cords that leashed the spirits to him?

The bulb on the lamp flickered once, twice, then exploded. A roaring sound filled the mic and sent it into a squealing loop of feedback noise. Through narrowed eyes, Cailen watched as the table was rocked by an unseen force that shattered the glasses and whipped the heavy water container into the far wall, narrowly missing one of the masked men. Conner was waving his arms, but the chaotic whirlwind only seemed to grow in force. The lamp was smashed off its base, and the now-empty table thrashed until it buckled in mid-air. When its crumpled form hit the dirt floor, the maelstrom finally stopped.

There was a moment of silence, then Aidan laughed. Conner picked himself up off the ground and cleared his throat.

“As you can see–”

“Hey…” said one of the masked men.

Conner made a motion as if to cut the feed, but then something fell from above and hit the dirt floor with a wet thud. There was another thud, and then another. All four covered their heads with their arms and ran out of sight of the camera’s view as a hail of objects–some small, some fist-sized–rained down from above.

Cailen’s nose crinkled as she realized what the objects were. Birds. Dozens of dead birds. Or pieces of them, anyway.

“Oh my lo…” Gabriella breathed.

Conner returned into view of the camera. He coughed politely.

“Ahem… As you can see, poltergeists can be very powerful. They are the mindless vestiges of what were once spirits, but now lack focus. These are but one small part of what makes up the supernatural world. After this demonstration, I’m sure you’ll have many questions, so feel free to leave your thoughts in the comment section, and we will try and address some with our next video. Thank you.”

The screen went black.

“Well,” Cailen said. “That’s…a thing.”

“He’s insane!” Gabriella yelled, throwing up her hands. “He set it loose in a closed space! Is he suicidal?!”

Cailen recalled their own encounter at the coffee shop and thought, yes, he probably was. Suicidally stupid, that is.

“Hey,” she said. “Look. They have thousands of hits already.”

Gabriella was vibrating in her fury. “This is past out of hand. I need Isley to get on this! Not tomorrow, but NOW!”

Cailen poked at the screen. “You better hurry, then. They’ve posted that the next video is going up tomorrow…”

To be continued in Chapter 8.