The Life of Johnny Ghost

Chapter 2

We finally arrive at the abandoned town where the ever-so-mysterious M. Acachalla told us to meet him. The walk from the car to the actual town was a bit of a climb; we literally had to scale a small rock wall. Even before we stepped into the city, something felt off. You can see it, too, in the odd chalk line drawn around the perimeter of the town. As soon as Toast and I both take a step over it--after checking its Paranormal Readings--it shows no threat. Strange, because I swear I felt that deep, tight knot that appears in my stomach every time there is a ghost near by...

A flash, that's all I get, but I see something bright and orange pass between some buildings in the alleyway up ahead. "Toast, I saw something," I whisper only loud enough for my partner to hear.

"Affirmative, Sir," Toast murmurs before we both slip behind an abandoned car. "Do you know what it was?"

"I'm not sure," I steady my breathing and draw my sensor, "but it was bright orange and on the run."

"I can't seem to find anything, Sir." Toast fiddles with his dials. He begins punching in numbers and rewiring circuits. "I know you're here, you little sneak. Where are you?"

A voice resonates through the empty lots as a ginger girl with a Renaissance dress appears on top of the car. She lays on her stomach with her feet in the air and her palms pressed against her jaw, a wide smile on her face. "Bon jour!" She calls down to us.

I scramble away from the entity sitting above me. "Toast, ready your weapon! We have to--" I suppress a scream as I fall to the ground beside my unconscious partner. I hit my head, hard, and my eyelids become heavy.

I attempt to lift myself up, prepared to fight our psychotic attacker, but an overwhelming pain racks my body and I crumple back to the concrete. I see the girl once more, dragging Toast away, before my vision goes black.

***

It's so hot, it's almost as if the sunlight is boiling my blood. My vision, still blurry, is twice as fuzzy with the midday haze radiating off of the glass and through the window.

Wake up.

I hear it, clear and crisp. My eyes open lazily as a flood of memories washes over me, and I suddenly remember what happened. I hit my head. It's so painful, I don't even think I can move...

No, you must stand.

The same voice pulses with anxiety. A surge of adrenaline shoots through my chest. I don't know who told me to do it, but I do as I'm told.

Slowly and cautiously, I lift myself from the floor. I'm still shaking uncontrollably, wobbling on my feet, and have a throbbing ache behind my left ear, but at least I'm standing. That's a start.

I turn around, only to jump back in surprise at the man standing directly behind me. I trip over something on the floor and tumble, crashing directly through the seat of a chair that splinters beneath my weight. My back presses against the floor as my arms and legs stop swinging from their position on the chair frame. The ache falters before it gains my full attention again, and I bite my thumb to hold back a groan.

Stupid-- the voice says again, but is cut off by laughter.

The man who scared me half to death takes a step closer to me. I can see him clearer now; he's basically dressed like a cowboy; boots, pistol, and all. He has deadly gray eyes, dark hair, and a barely shaved face. He kicks the object of my plunge over to me. It skids directly into my hand, where I stare at the metallic weapon. It's a knife.

"Ah Jimmy, you're always such a laugh," the cowboy man says.

Should I be frightened? This man I don't know just called me Jimmy and gave me a bloody knife. What did I do? With the fear and the pain and the stress, I didn't notice the small bubble of blood pooling on my thumb from where I bit it much too hard. I begin hyperventilating as red rimmed vision tugs at my consciousness.