Gina stood waiting for them at the service entrance. She was leaning on the Alfa Romeo, ankles crossed as she tossed aside her second cigarette.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou owe me an explanation,\u201d she said as the two men hauled a third around the back of the car.<\/p>\n
Demos scoffed as he released the trunk. \u201cWe don\u2019t owe\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n
\u201cWe\u2019ll explain in the car,\u201d Ferris said, keeping both hands on their captive. Sandro had been fitted in a hotel bathrobe, his feet bare on the coarse pavement. Don had come through with his promise to keep the freight elevator clear, making their exit fairly painless.<\/p>\n
\u201cHell no,\u201d Sandro said, jerking in Ferris\u2019 grasp. \u201cYou\u2019re not putting me in a goddamned trunk.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI guess we could just do it here.\u201d Demos surveyed the area with mild interest, noting that they were alone.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
\u201cNo messes, Ghost.\u201d<\/p>\n
Demos put together a convincing sulk. \u201cBut we\u2019re outside.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo puppy dog eyes, either. This is casino property,\u201d Ferris said, then took a handful of Sandro\u2019s hair to force him forward. \u201cSorry it\u2019s not first class. You\u2019ll have to make do.\u201d<\/p>\n
The trunk slammed shut, obscuring Sandro\u2019s burning scowl.<\/p>\n
\u201cHe\u2019d better not scuff up the interior,\u201d Demos said, then gestured to Gina. \u201cKeys.\u201d<\/p>\n
She paid him no mind, not even making eye contact as she slid into the driver\u2019s seat. \u201cI can smell the liquor on you from here. I\u2019m driving.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ferris shot him a look before he could protest, sending the Italian grumbling into the passenger seat. Folding his arms in the back, Ferris wondered if this was what it was like to be a parent. If so, he\u2019d had years of practice.<\/p>\n
The highway was empty as they drove, distancing themselves from the lights of civilization, fleeing the inevitable sunrise as they moved further west. Ferris could hear Sandro thumping behind him, making a futile attempt to be heard. It was no use \u2014 there was nobody to listen. Street lights faded behind them as they followed the curves of a side road. It was unlit, leaving only the car headlights to cut through the dark.<\/p>\n
Ferris slumped, his head nudging the glass window. White birches flashed past, their trunks shifting in and out of existence. They disappeared into black, forgotten. A familiar sickness was edging up in his gut. Sandro didn\u2019t have a chance. He had toyed with Demos\u2019 pride, and scorned ghosts were not known for their mercy. Ferris knew what was coming \u2014 he knew he would have nightmares before dawn.<\/p>\n
Even so, he would still watch.<\/p>\n
Just as he wondered if the forest would ever end, the car stopped. He stepped out automatically, rounding the car to open the trunk. Sandro was greeted with Demos\u2019 gun, the tip bumping his temple as he was urged past the tree line and into the woods. Gina waited with the car, having little interest in traipsing through the woods.<\/p>\n
\u201cThey\u2019re going to find out what you did,\u201d Sandro said. Burrs nicked his ankles as he stumbled through the underbrush. \u201cYou\u2019re making a big fucking mistake.\u201d<\/p>\n
Demos was unfazed. \u201cI\u2019ve made worse.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ferris kept his eyes on Demos\u2019 back, ready to step forward if Sandro got any bright ideas. With nothing but a bathrobe and cord-tied wrists, however, there was little the man could accomplish if he tried.<\/p>\n
At the foot of a wide stump, Demos stopped.<\/p>\n
\u201cHere.\u201d<\/p>\n
Sandro turned, beads of sweat now visible on his brow. \u201cYou\u2019re serious. You\u2019re going to do this.\u201d<\/p>\n
Demos made no expression. \u201cSuper serious.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou wrecked the computer. The file is gone.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s still in one last place.\u201d Demos gestured to his crown. \u201cYour head.\u201d<\/p>\n
The car\u2019s headlights beamed between the trees, casting long shadows from the three men.<\/p>\n
\u201cFish \u2014 untie him.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ferris opened his mouth to protest, but knew he wouldn\u2019t hear the end of it if he ruined Demos\u2019 moment. After a quick breath of night air, he stepped forward to pull at the knotted cord on Sandro\u2019s wrists. The man\u2019s eyes darted between his captors, obviously weighing his chances of successfully taking on the two of them. With the gun still aimed between his eyes, he seemed to realize they were slim.<\/p>\n
The moment the cord was loose, Demos nodded to his companion. \u201cBack up.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ferris wasted no time returning to his friend\u2019s side. Sandro\u2019s breaths were now audible. He swallowed, his throat fluttering, feet scraping dirt as he inched backwards.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou want to run?\u201d Demos\u2019 eyes tightened. \u201cGo on. Run.\u201d<\/p>\n
Sandro didn\u2019t look away, keeping his stare on the gun and the man behind it. One step after another, he moved back, only stopping when his spine bumped a thick tree.<\/p>\n
He sucked in his next breath, then turned to run.<\/p>\n
The white bathrobe flapped as the man rushed through the trees. Demos waited, counting the meters. Footsteps pounded over the forest floor, kicking up mud and rustling through yellowed shrubs. Even from a distance, Demos could hear him gasping for air. Twenty meters \u2014 that was far enough.<\/p>\n
The gunshot cracked through the air. It echoed through rows of trunks, ringing under Ferris\u2019 skull and down the back of his neck. Sandro\u2019s scream fused with the tail-end of the shot, petering off into quavering groans. His body had crumpled forward in a heap over a rotted log. He clutched his knee, his hands stained with red as he bled from his shattered joint.<\/p>\n
Demos cocked the hammer once more. \u201cI said run<\/i>.\u201d<\/p>\n
Sandro dragged himself upright, shoulders trembling. His pants for air were muddled, weak from the burst nerve bundles and cracked bone. With fingernails digging into the old wood, he managed to shift himself onto one leg. The moment he was up, another gunshot ran forth. The man collapsed back to the ground, crimson staining the dried leaves beneath him. Demos had shot his other knee.<\/p>\n
With even steps, the Ghost approached his prey. There was no rage in his eyes as he gazed down at the man, nor was there a hint of pity. His features were vacant, a blank white in the dark haze of the woods.<\/p>\n
Sandro writhed on his side, his bathrobe soaked in a layer of red. He forced a dry grunt, then leered up at his assailant.<\/p>\n
\u201cS-sorry if I\u2014\u201c Sandro choked on his next breath. \u201cIf I broke your heart.\u201d<\/p>\n
The gun cocked.<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t flatter yourself.\u201d<\/p>\n
The third and final shot reverberated through the clearing. The forest was silent, with only the distant humming of the car to remind them the world had gone on. Ferris swallowed.<\/p>\n
\u201cThere\u2019s a shovel in the trunk,\u201d Demos said, breaking his friend from his daze. \u201cCould you get it?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah.\u201d Ferris reminded himself to breathe. \u201cSure.\u201d<\/p>\n
The drive back to the casino was quiet. Ferris\u2019 shoulders were sore from digging and he was certain his palms would have blisters in the morning. He lay his head back on the car seat, noting the sky was shifting to a softer shade of blue. His eyelids lowered, heavy, threatening to steal his consciousness with every blink. A tall sign came into view, its letters still lit in white fluorescence. Six Pines.<\/p>\n
Demos spoke first. \u201cI call shower.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDibs on\u2014\u201c Ferris said, then winced. \u201cDamnit.\u201d<\/p>\n
By the time he was thoroughly washed, Ferris could barely reach the bed. He lost track of time in the shower, scrubbing dirt and spots of blood from his hands. The red had circled the drain before trickling down, disappearing as if the night had never happened. Sleep came quickly, taking him the moment his head sunk into the thick hotel pillow.<\/p>\n
Ferris found himself on the casino floor. The space was empty, the slots mute and lifeless without a patron in sight. Only one machine had been left on, its screen flickering in gold and white.<\/p>\n
\u201cDemos?\u201d<\/p>\n
There was no answer. The machine trilled forth a mechanical song, beckoning, tempting. Ferris\u2019 hands tightened and it was only then he noticed the coin in his palm.<\/p>\n
It was a bronze token, its face bearing a ring of stars and a single, embossed word. Lucky.<\/i> He turned it in his hands, his finger trailing over the striped rim. The slot machine jangled once more, casting a glow over the dark, wide floor. Slowly, he approached. His pupils constricted at the glaring light. Hesitantly, he balanced the edge of the coin on the slot. It dropped in with a clink, plunging through the maze of interior mechanisms. His hand drifted to the lever, closing around the cool, metal handle.<\/p>\n
He took a breath, then pulled.<\/p>\n
The screen rattled as each of the patterns rolled past his vision. Bells and diamonds flashed through \u2014 vague, blurred shapes behind the glass. One after another, the wheels stopped to depict five perfect symbols in a row. Five ghosts.<\/p>\n
The machine fell silent. No tokens spilled forth, nor did a single light flicker in response. Ferris stared, wondering if it was broken, or if\u2014<\/p>\n
There was a gurgle. He glanced down just in time to see a trail of red oozing from the coin tray. It thickened, dripping down the facade and pooling on the thin carpet below. Ferris took a step backwards.<\/p>\n
The blood swelled, gushing, choking from the machine. The pool spread. The warmth had been sucked from the air, from his body, leaving his skin cold as he took another step away. Red lapped the soles of his shoes. He could smell it, taste it, the sweet flavor of old copper and must. There was a rattle as crimson stained bits forced their way into the tray. Bones \u2014 finger bones, teeth, and chunks of fractured joints. Ferris\u2019 next breath wouldn\u2019t come, trapped in his throat, leaving him heaving for air.<\/p>\n
Something woke up him. The breath he had longed for finally came, filling his chest with a long, cold gasp. The usual paralysis, however, was absent. He could move \u2014 feel. There was warmth on his hand, a voice somewhere above his ears.<\/p>\n
\u201cWake up.\u201d<\/p>\n
He opened his eyes. Through the dim space between them, Ferris could see a familiar face just above his. Demos hovered over him, his palm tight over Ferris\u2019 hand.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt was a dream.\u201d Demos\u2019 voice was soft. \u201cJust a dream.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ferris tried to slow his breathing, to calm the shiver in his arms. He failed, unable to do anything but stare at the man above him.<\/p>\n
Demos eased himself closer, allowing Ferris\u2019 head to rest on the edge of his leg. \u201cIt\u2019s okay. You\u2019re fine. Everything\u2019s fine.\u201d<\/p>\n
The words reaching Ferris\u2019 ears had little meaning, vague and muddled in his wavering state. The tone, however, was overpowering. The slow, warm, repetition, guiding him back to consciousness, reminding him that he was safe. After a moment, he managed a careful exhale. His vision cleared, yet there was only one thing he could focus on.<\/p>\n
\u201cDemos,\u201d he said, his mouth dry.<\/p>\n
Demos clenched Ferris\u2019 fingers, coaxing his nerves into stillness. As the seconds ticked by, Ferris could feel his pulse slowing, calming.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou said my name.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ferris swallowed. \u201cI just\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n
\u201cIn your dream.\u201d<\/p>\n
There was a silence as he scoured his memory, thinking past the blood, past the blinding light of the slot machine.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou weren\u2019t there.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI am now.\u201d<\/p>\n
It was true \u2014 he was there. Ferris had lost count of the nights, the hundreds of nights he had woken alone, unable to move, his joints locked beneath sweat and chilled skin. He had gotten so used to the process that this, this presence, felt like another dream altogether.<\/p>\n
Demos\u2019 eyes shifted to the window. \u201cYou shouldn\u2019t have watched.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI needed to.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ferris turned his head, noticing how thin Demos\u2019 leg felt beneath him. He was small, the type of body that could be broken in two with a single snap. Yet, somehow, he seemed immortal. Ferris\u2019 fingers twitched before returning the grasp on Demos\u2019 hand. They sat for a while, both quiet as they waited for the other to say something.<\/p>\n
Ferris finally spoke, his voice weak. \u201cWhy did you do that?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDo what?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMake out with that guy.\u201d<\/p>\n
Demos paused. It didn\u2019t seem to be the answer he was expecting. \u201cI was\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n
The air conditioner crooned beneath the window, drawing a flutter from the curtains.<\/p>\n
\u201cI was lonely, okay?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cLonely? But\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n
\u201cI heard what you said.\u201d Demos closed his eyes. \u201cOn the phone \u2014 that you were talking to nobody. A colleague.\u201d<\/p>\n
It took Ferris a moment to recall his conversation. It felt so old, as if it had happened years ago.<\/p>\n
\u201cI couldn\u2019t just\u2014 Demos, how could you believe that? For even a second?\u201d<\/p>\n
Demos sighed, his lap shifting under Ferris\u2019 head. \u201cI know. I know.<\/i> It was stupid.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI just wasted an entire night in the woods digging a corpse-hole because you couldn\u2019t keep it in your pants. You have to\u2014 you must know what you are to me.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSomething?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cEverything.\u201d<\/p>\n
Demos opened his eyes. He searched his friend\u2019s face, unable to read his expression. It was only when Ferris realized the extent of his answer that he felt himself redden. Luckily, the room was dark. Ferris broke eye contact, unable to take another second of it.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2014 I wish the bar was open.\u201d<\/p>\n
Demos gave a faint smile. \u201cYou could use a drink. I\u2019ll buy you one tomorrow.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAfter this royal fuck-up, you owe me a lot more than a drink.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAll right,\u201d Demos said, squeezing the hand beneath his. \u201cTwo drinks.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Gina stood waiting for them at the service entrance. She was leaning on the Alfa Romeo, ankles crossed as she tossed aside her second cigarette. \u201cYou owe me an explanation,\u201d she said as the two men hauled a third around the back of the car. Demos scoffed as he released the trunk. \u201cWe don\u2019t owe\u2014\u201c […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[5],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-310","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-fishbones-book-02"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p4oWx8-50","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"post_mailing_queue_ids":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/310","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=310"}],"version-history":[{"count":7,"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/310\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":582,"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/310\/revisions\/582"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=310"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=310"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=310"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}