Page 54 of No Surrender
“What the hell?” Ross yelped, swinging his rebar like a baseball bat to knock another goblet out of the air before it could hit Simon.
“I think the cavalry arrived.”
Vic caught a glimpse of Dante’s ghost and fainter images of the murdered women. They swarmed Thompson, wrestling him to the ground and pounding on him with their fists.
Simon’s incantation never faltered, and the pacing didn’t change. He drew himself up to his full height, shoulders squared, one hand outstretched. Vic and Ross stepped closer to Simon as the other ghosts kept their killer too busy to cause trouble.
“—banished. You have no power here, no right to remain,” Simon intoned. “Eliot Thompson, I abjure you by all the powers of light. Leave this place and leave this realm. Never return.”
Vic saw a blood-red glow appear on the wall behind Thompson’s ghost. The other spirits drew back like the tide, leaving Thompson to fend for himself. A powerful force dragged him backward, and Thompson’s ghost unraveled as it fought against the pull that drew him little by little into its maw.
The screams Vic heard weren’t the recorded sound effects. He had never believed in Hell, but whatever lay beyond that glow was enough to terrify the dead.
Dante and the women’s ghosts weren’t affected by the pull of the red portal, but they moved to the opposite side of the coffin room, well back from whatever fate awaited Thompson.
With a final piercing shriek, the last tendrils of Thompson’s spirit peeled away and vanished. A second later, the red glow shrank and disappeared as well. The overhead lights came on, and the theatrical effects flicked off.
Vic felt like he could breathe freely again. The oppressive energy linked to Thompson’s presence faded between one heartbeat and the next.
He barely moved fast enough to catch Simon, who dropped bonelessly toward the floor.
“There’s a bottle of water and a protein bar in his bag,” Vic said to Ross, who ran to fetch it and returned moments later.
Vic cradled Simon in his arms, half in his lap. His skin was cold and his breathing shallow, proof that even with the help of Dante and the other spirits, Simon had nearly overextended himself.
“Is he okay?” Ross asked as he held out the refreshments. Vic twisted off the cap and held the bottle so Simon could drink, then ripped the wrapper from the protein bar and fed it to him in small bites.
“He will be,” Vic told Ross, idly stroking one hand through Simon’s hair. “But it cost him a lot. Thompson’s ghost must have been unusually strong to affect him like this, even with Dante’s help.”
“Hello? Can we leave the circle now?” Gordon called out from the other room. Vic couldn’t repress a tired chuckle.
“You can come out,” Ross called to the others.
Gordon and the two officers peeked through the doorway. “Are the ghosts gone?” Gordon asked, pale and wide-eyed.
Vic nodded. “Thompson won’t be back. Simon wants to talk to the victims’ spirits before they move on. None of what they tell him will be admissible as evidence, but it might help to give the families closure.”
He and Simon had discussed that when they laid out the plan for the attack. Vic hadn’t liked the idea since he suspected Simon would be badly drained by banishing Thompson. Simon had insisted that they needed to take the statements of the victims before their bodies were moved, and the personal items Thompson had kept were taken for evidence.
Vic looked up at Ross. “He needs to rest, and then we have to finish this. Can you please let the forensics team into the caves? Just keep them away from these two rooms. I don’t want him to be disturbed until we’re done. As it is, I’ll be lucky if I don’t have to carry him out.”
“Won’t have to,” Simon mumbled, still sounding drugged.
Vic smiled, relieved at the response. If Simon felt well enough to be mulish, Vic knew he wasn’t too deeply drained.
“Gotta send them on,” Simon murmured, plucking at Vic’s sleeve. “Not done yet.”
“I know,” Vic told him, smoothing a hand down Simon’s arm as much to convince himself as to steady his partner. “Just take a few more minutes. Thompson cost you a lot.”
Vic expected Simon to argue. That he didn’t, told Vic that Simon was feeling the effects more than usual.
Simon stirred in Vic’s arms. “Alright,” Vic sighed. “Are you ready?”
Simon nodded. “It’ll go faster if you record me as I talk to them. I’ll repeat what they say, and we’ll have a record of what happened to tell the families.”
Talking to those who were left behind was always the worst part, Vic thought. There had been too many times over the course of his career when he could offer nothing but condolences to a grieving family. Knowing the truth was a double-edged sword. On one hand, the living gained closure. But sometimes, it was better not to know.
Simon wobbled as he got to his feet and managed to walk to the other room. Gordon and the officers stared but gave them plenty of space as Simon headed for his backpack. Despite him giving the all-clear to leave the salt circle, they remained inside, and it was clear to Vic that Gordon had touched it up to keep them safe.
