America: Your Service Has Been Disconnected

I normally don’t post anything political to social media or my blog, but recent outbursts by the Senator of my chosen state have incensed me to the point of outburst. Something needs to be said, and silence helps no one.

If you’re unaware as to the comments I’m referring, here’s a screenshot of the quote as reported from the HuffingtonPost.

Chuck Grassley’s recent comments illustrate the disconnect that America is experiencing between our representatives and the people. I don’t know a single person who spends on “booze and women” but I know a ton of people struggling to pay their daily bills just to live, including myself. I’m disheartened by the fact that today’s politics are ran by characters from Charles Dickens novels instead of by people who have sympathy, heart, and understanding. When family’s have to make the decision between paying their rent, their student loans, or groceries and their representatives think they are spending all of their money on superfluous excess there is something wrong with America. Not to mention the insult this is to anyone who has ever earned a single dollar. My representatives don’t get to tell me or my friends how to spend our money. That’s not how freedom works. While I don’t want to spend my money in an irresponsible way, if I decide to that’s my decision as a tax-paying and voting American.

Chuck Grassley, Iowa and America is incredibly disappointed in you.

Not to mention, have you see the prices of Movies, Mr. Grassley? Ridiculous.

Ghostbusters: Des Moines- Episode 7

Before you jump in on Episode 7, why not read the rest first. Click Here to do that!

 

The fact that the Des Moines Ghostbusters were becoming overwhelmed with work was an understatement. Since the chairman had unsuccessfully tried to eliminate Cynthia Palmer from the playing field, the reports of spiritual activity had skyrocketed.

In the time that the Chairman made his brief appearance in their lives, the Ghostbusters had been sleeping in shifts to handle the overflow of spirits. They had been lucky that most of the ghouls and slimers had been located within the Des Moines Metro Area, but they were also very aware of the fact that this wasn’t a good thing. The more ghosts in the Des Moines Metro was indicative of Erra and the Seven consolidating their power.

Regina was the first to ask if whether or not this volume of spiritual energy had always existed and if they were only just now noticing it as the rest of Iowa began to adopt the PKE Meter phone application. Simon answered that by explaining that the application wasn’t their only detection method and that they had been able to pick of the city’s residual PKE reading before the app had existed. The app was mostly valuable in the fact that it pinpointed where spikes in that residual energy manifested, helping the Ghostbusters to find specific incursions from the spirit world. Unfortunately, this wasn’t a scenario of a tool doing its job too well, and was more a situation in which the city’s level of PKE was steadily climbing without any end in sight.

Which was why, exhausted and without options, Cynthia had organized a conference call with the franchise headquarters in New York City.

The Des Moines squad was huddled around a table in the small conference room that came with their rented office. Cynthia had only just finished pleading her case for support when a snarky voice on the other line replied.

“What this sounds like to me, Ms. Penner-“

“It’s ‘Palmer’,” Cynthia stated for the third time.

“Right, Palmer,” the voice replied, “What this sounds like to me, Ms. Palmer, is that your team isn’t strategizing properly. Instead of hunting down every spook in Iowa,” the voice paused before adding, “What even is Iowa? Is that a state?” When they didn’t dignify his obvious barb at their state with a response, the voice continued. “Instead of hunting down every ghost in Iowa, why not use that wonder app that your team put together to classify the nasty threats first. The low level threats can wait until you’ve nailed down this…uh…what did you call him?”

“Erra,” Jordan supplied.

“Erra? That doesn’t sound so bad. Not like a Gozer or a Tiamat. More like a small mistake you can handle with white out or an eraser.”

His voice grew distant as he leaned away from the phone.

“Ray, have you ever heard of beast that goes by the name of Erra?”

“Oh yeah, Peter!” An excited voice could be heard from further away. “Really nasty guy. If I recall, Marduk chose to relinquish his throne to Erra instead of dealing with him.”

The first voice, Peter, grew louder as he returned to the phone. “I just consulted with my spiritual liason, and he said that you could easily take out this Erra guy without any support.”

Cynthia’s head hit the table.

“Listen,” Peter continued. “Kick Erra’s ass, break for coffee, and then spend you’re newly found spare time cleaning up his left overs. If you’re lucky, most of the residual PKE should leave with him when they see you beat up the big guy.”

“So,” Regina asked, a hint of pleading tone in her voice, “you’re not going to send anyone to help us?”

“We’re not heartless, sweetheart,” Peter let out a sigh. “If it gets any worse, we’ll consider it. I’m sure Louis is around here and he’s been itching to put the proton pack back on for years.” His voice suddenly took on a hurried pattered. “Anyway, have a nice day, call back really soon. Don’t be a stranger. Bye!”

The line went dead.

“That man,” Regina said, “is an asshole.”

“He’s one of the original,” Jordan gave as way of an explanation.

“He’s still an asshole,” Cynthia replied, lifting her head.

The entire team were still in their jumpsuits, covered in sweat, grime, and slime. They were running on fumes.

“The asshole has a point, though,” Regina added. “Why aren’t we classifying them and hitting the biggest ones first?”

Simon reached across the table and hit a button on the projector, turning it on. As it warmed up, the glow of a computer desktop came to life on the wall.

Clicking his laptop’s mouse a few times, Simon brought up a graph.

“We are doing exactly that,” he explained. On the screen, the graph showed a steady increase in paranormal activity, reaching upwards toward a thousand pings from the application. “Everything below the red line at the 550 mark is being postponed until we’ve handled Erra and found your brother.”

While everything below the red line was quite a lot of activity, everything above it was almost just as busy.

Jordan waved his hand at the graph. “Have we shown the New York guys this graph? That level of PKE can’t go unnoticed. It’s astronomical.”

“Actually, we did,” Cynthia answered. “Their exact response was, ‘We’ve handled more with less, come back when it’s literally astronomical.’”

Regina shook her head. “We are entirely on our own.”

Cynthia nodded and then rubbed her eyes. Leaning back in her chair, she stared up at the data on the screen before turning to Jordan.

“What’s the God Threshold? Where on this scale would Erra sit?”

Jordan nodded at Simon who proceeded to make more clicks with the mouse until the graph zoomed out to half the size that it was. At the top of the screen was another red line that wasn’t labeled. “Everything below that mark answers to everything about the mark,” Simon explained. “Erra would sit,” he waved his hand about, “somewhere above that line.”

Cynthia was acutely aware that there were no pings from the PKE application that reached above the God Threshold line.

“Absolutely nothing has been reported above that line?” She asked. “Is it possible that something is wrong with the app?”

Simon shook his head, “The app is more than capable of picking up on god level psychokinetic energy.”

“Then we need to change our game plan. Erra is either hiding someplace where we don’t have enough smartphones or he’s found a way to hide his PKE. Any ideas?”

“The app is limited to the sensors in a standard smart phone. That means that the app won’t work well in places that block those signals and also that their range is limited,” explained Simon. “That would include large metal structures, as they can also interfere with readings.” He shrugged, “We’re looking for large empty spaces, spaces with little to no people, and spaces with lots of metal.

Sarcastically, Regina remarked, “Well, that really narrows it down in the middle of a city.”

“In a way, it does,” Cynthia replied. “Erra won’t be anywhere without too many people. The Seven require chaos to distract us so that Erra can do his work, that means he will be where the people are. He won’t be in the rural areas either, for the same reason. Erra is consolidating power, that means he’s most likely in the city and using some large metal structure as his hideout.”

Simon nodded, “I agree with that assessment.”

“Then what do we do now?” Jordan asked.

“We split up,” Cynthia stood and leaned over the table. “We need to hit every warehouse, every factory, stadium, and theater. Every structure that is large enough to disrupt cellphone signals.” She pointed at Jordan and Simon. “You two cover east and south Des Moines, while Regina and I will cover north and west. Don’t use the app, we need real PKE Meters in the field on this.”

 

Jordan and Simon took the van while Cynthia and Regina took Cynthia’s pickup truck. Just to be on the safe side, each team took two proton packs and two slime blowers with them. They had already covered most of the area between the East Village and the State Fair Grounds before deciding to move south and into the more industrial areas of southside Des Moines.

The job for the day was meticulous at best. They had decided to skip over the larger metal buildings that had full parking lots as it was unlikely that the app wouldn’t be able to pick up something and not report with that many people in the location. That left plenty to be searched, though. Most of that area of the southside was industrial lots and older buildings that either were, or used to be, factories.

They found nothing. Absolutely nothing. They weren’t even getting readings on some of the older buildings that should have had some sort of residual haunting on them. It was frustrating work.

After much consideration, Jordan told Simon to turn the van around. It was a little after noon, and they both felt that they’d earned a lunch at the local Zombie Burger.

Simon pulled into a parking lot for a train yard to turn the van around. As they slowly arced the van back toward the exit, Jordan’s PKE Meter let out a quick beep.

“What was that?” Simon put the brakes on.

Jordan stared at the PKE Meter, waiting for the blip to return. When it didn’t, he stuck the Meter out the window and waved it back and forth. Suddenly, another beep went out. “Looks like something small in the train yard.” He pulled the Meter back in, looked at it, and frowned. “It’s a Class 1 at best. Skip it.”

Simon returned the frown. “We’ve been out here for hours with nothing to show for it, and I’d like to stretch my legs.”

Jordan shrugged. “If Simon wants to strap on a heavy ass proton pack, who am I to argue. Very well, good sir. Lead the way.”

Before they put on their packs, they went up to the train yard office and introduced themselves.

“Is this for real?” The only guy in the office asked. He was older and wearing coveralls as he sat behind the desk. He looked at the Ghostbusters over his glasses as he spoke.

“Real enough, sir,” Simon answered. “We believe that a spiritual entity has taken up residence in your train yard. We certain that it’s probably nothing, but we would like your permission to check it out.”

“A ghost is in the yard?”

Jordan nodded.

“Are you guys going to bill me or anything?”

Simon shook his head. “This is part of a larger investigation that the city has hired us to check out.”

The yard manager shrugged, pushed his glasses back up to their place, and turned back to his newspaper that he had been reading when the guys had come in. “Knock yourselves out and don’t break anything.”

They thanked him but were pretty sure that he wasn’t listening to them anymore.

The yard consisted of mostly large train cars resting and awaiting pickup from the trains that would pass through. The guys stepped over several pairs of tracks and followed the PKE Meter from car to car until the signal was at its strongest.

“This one,” Jordan said, before adding, “It is still registering as a Class 1. I’m not entirely sure that we’ll even see it manifest.”

Simon prepared his proton pack while Jordan grabbed the handle to the train car door and tugged the door open.

Simon, prepared to blast anything that came out at them, tensed. When nothing happened, he stepped closer to look in and was joined by Jordan.

In the back left corner of the train car was a small purple glow, no bigger than a softball.

Jordan heaved himself into the car and helped Simon up into it. Once they were both in the car, Jordan pulled the PKE Meter back out and aimed it at the purple haze. He stepped closer to it, trying to make out what it was while Simon kept his neutrino wand at the ready.

When Jordan was close enough to see what it was, he let out a snort. “It’s a kitten.”

Simon stepped a little closer and, now that Jordan had said what it was, realized that he could make it out too. It was the ghost of a small kitten, glowing purple as it slept in the corner of the boxcar.

Jordan leaned forward and stroked the top of its head, waking the little kitten up as he did so. It let out a wide yawn and looked from Jordan to Simon and back to Jordan.

“This is probably some cat that used to live in the train yard,” Jordan explained. “I wonder how old the yard is. Well, it doesn’t really matter. History is filled with beloved pets staying on long after they’ve died. Life was such a simple path of love and be loved that they didn’t know how to stop. Kind of sad really.”

Simon frowned. “That’s it? Just a kitten?”

“Just a kitten,” Jordan agreed. “Class 1 and a complete waste of time, because I’m not going to blast a…” Jordan stopped as he saw Simon raise his neutrino wand. “What are you doing?”

“Jordan, get back!”

Jordan was so engrossed in recalling historic facts, that he hadn’t realized that the kitten had grown to almost three times its original diminutive size. He jumped back and looked at the PKE Meter.

“That’s impossible.”

“What is?” Simon demanded.

“He just grew to a Class 3, and he’s not stopping.” Jordan put away the PKE Meter and drew his own neutrino wand.

Simon frowned, “Is it starting to looking like a…cougar…or something?”

Jordan was suddenly lost in memory, trying to remember when someone had last mentioned a cougar. It was on the tip of his tongue.

And then it hit him.

“Not a cougar.” He flipped a switch on the side of his neutrino wand and let the whine of the proton pack fill the train car. “A panther.”

“What?” Simon flipped the same switch. The ghost cat was now getting to be taller than both of them. “Why a panther?”

“One of the Seven was referred to as a ‘Furious Panther’.”

Simon gulped and looked from the cat, to Jordan, and then back to the cat. “Furious?”

The phantom kitten turned Ghost Panther seemed to have finished its growth at around the size of a large van. It turned to face them and let out a roar that sent saliva and slime flying everywhere.

“Fire!” Jordan shouted. Both Ghostbusters shot their proton wands at the Ghost Panther and were rewarded as the Ghost Panther flinched in obvious pain. His flinch was massive, and the entire boxcar shook as the Ghost Panther slammed into the side.

The Ghost Panther recovered quickly, flexing and sending waves of energy reflecting back at the Ghostbusters. The energy lifted them off of their feet and sent them backward and out of the train car.

They managed to twist enough to land on their sides, saving their backs from the pain of crashing into the ground. Of course, it didn’t save their shoulders or the rest of their bodies as the impact was felt throughout their bones. The air rushed from their lungs as they landed and they were struggling to get up as the large purple Ghost Panther launched itself out of the train car and onto Simon, pinning him to the ground.

The Panther’s teeth wasted no time in trying to bite Simon’s head completely off. Simon only barely managed to avoid the decapitation by slamming the side of the neutrino wand into the cat’s mouth and putting all of his effort into pushing the head away from him. If he could get any sort of leverage, he might have twisted the wand and used the proton stream to send the Ghost Panther packing, but the feline was too heavy. Already Simon could feel how he was losing his life or death game of reverse tug-of-war.

A blast of energy hit the Ghost Panther in the side and sent him rolling off of and away from Simon. As Jordan continued to fire on the Jungle Book reject, Simon got to his feet and opened fire as well. Together they continued to pummel the Ghost Panther with as much energy as their Proton Packs could put out, not letting up for an instance.

With another roar, the Ghost Panther pulled the same trick that it had pulled in the train car. It flexed and another wave of energy arced out and slammed into the Ghostbusters. This time they were ready for it enough to brace their feet, but it still sent their proton streams shooting off into the sky and sent them scooting back about five or six feet.

The Panther let out another roar at them, obviously more annoyed than hurt, before taking off away from them. They watched as it ran toward the edge of the train yard and jumped the fence, causing a car to swerve and hit the fence as it took to running the streets.

Without saying a word, Jordan and Simon ran as quickly as they could to the van. When they got there, Jordan flipped open his cellphone and texted Cynthia as Simon peeled out of the gravel parking lot of the train yard and took off after the Ghost Panther.

Jordan snickered, “I don’t know why I even bothered texting Cynthia.”

Simon frowned as they took a corner and shot Jordan a look, “Why?”

“She’s terrified of cats. Her grandmother had somewhere around thirty of the things and there was always at least one that wasn’t in a good mood.”

“Then it’s great that you texted her,” Simon smiled. “I’m going to love seeing her freak out.”

Simon’s ingenuity had built a docking station into the dashboard of the Ghostbusters Van. Jordan hadn’t been entirely sure why until this very moment. He slammed the PKE Meter into it on Simon’s instruction and watched as a repurposed heads-up display showed the PKE Meter screen in a larger reflection on the middle of the windshield.

“He’s headed toward the East Village,” Jordan noticed.

“Not if we can stop him first,” Simon pointed ahead of the van. “There he is.”

Simon pressed his foot on the gas and rocketed them toward the Ghost Panther. It was well into an almost forty mile per hour gallop that the van was making progress on, but even with the sirens the traffic was making it difficult to close the gap.

Jordan climbed into the back where his pack had landed in a heap with Simon’s, and grabbed it before returning to his seat up front. Throwing one of the straps over the back of his seat, he grabbed the wand and leaned out of the open window of the van.

Pressing the right button, a proton stream leapt from his wand and in the general direction of the Ghost Panther. It didn’t even seem to notice as the beam flashed over it’s right side and hit a stop sign, incinerating it.

Jordan raised the wand higher and tried to sight down it’s emitter. The moment that the spirited feline was in his imaginary sights, he fired again.

The blast was closer this time, but the Ghost Panther twisted unexpectedly and the proton stream slammed into the pavement blasting chunks of it everywhere and instantly melting a huge hole into the road.

Simon swerved the van, only narrowly missing the newly formed pothole and was struck with a thought.

“If we can get in front of it, I can hit it with the van-trap.”

Jordan shook his head. “It wouldn’t be happy with us in front of it. We need to corral it somewhere, first.”

Simon nodded. “He seemed to flinch away from that last blast, maybe we can use the wands to direct him toward Pete Crivaro Park.”

Jordan rolled his eyes, “I’ll tell Cynthia it was your idea when the city calls wanting their potholes filled.”

Jordan fired again, this time not trying to hit the Ghost Panther so much as steer it. The blast hit the pavement to the left of the beast and the Ghostbusters were rewarded with the turning of the giant cat to the right.

Another blast directly behind the Ghost Panther sent the purple spirit into a slightly faster sprint. Simon adjusted the velocity of the van accordingly and they continued in this manner for another mile or so before they were outside of Pete Crivaro Park.

“Get out,” Simon demanded abruptly as the Ghost Panther entered the park.

“What?” Jordan was confused.

“Get out. I’ll park the van at the other end of the park and you can push him toward it. I’ll have the van set up and ready to trap him.”

“You going to stop the van first? Or do I have to tuck and roll with a proton pack?”

Simon rolled his eyes and pulled over at the edge of the park, right where the Ghost Panther had entered it. Jordan jumped out and pulled the proton pack off of the back of his seat. Sliding it on, he jogged after the oversized kitten.

Once Jordan was clear of the van, Simon peeled out of the parking lot and began circling to the north side of the park. Once there he found a place where he could reverse the van so that the back end was facing the park. Once the van was in place, he ran out to join his companion.

As he approached, he saw Jordan battling the Ghost Panther with a fury of his own. Each blast kept hitting the beast in its flank causing it to yelp, jump and turn to find a new means of attack. While the giant cat might not have noticed, it was evident to Simon that Jordan was successfully pushing the Ghost Panther toward the north end of the park.

Simon was running up behind the Panther when it seemed to take notice of him. Turning, it decided that maybe this new plaything wasn’t going to bite back as much. It lunged at Simon, but this time, Simon was prepared with his neutrino wand at the ready.

Blasting him in the face, the cat went tumbling back toward Jordan and in the wrong direction. The Ghost Panther recovered quickly, getting up and then smacking Jordan with its massive paw. Jordan flew across the park and landed in the sand of a small playground.

Before they could lose all of the progress that Jordan had accomplished, Simon ran around the Ghost Panther and took up Jordan’s former position, blasting and directing the beast until his companion could join him again.

Once Jordan was beside him, they still had another 100 yards to go.

Struggling to keep the stream constantly hitting the Ghost Panther, Simon shouted, “We aren’t anywhere near close enough for the trap.”

Jordan nodded and shouted at the Ghost Panther, “Let’s dance!”

Another roar brought with it another wave of energy, but the two Ghostbusters had been grown accustomed to this old trick already and ignored the wave as it pressed against them and tried to send them careening away from the giant cat.

Surprising both of them, the Ghost Panther did something that neither of them could have expected. It leapt straight up and into the air, using its undead ability to soar above them before coming down at both of them with paws outstretched and its jaw wide open.

Jumping away from each other, Simon and Jordan turned their wands at precisely the same moment and blasted the Ghost Panther in each of its sides as it came down right on top of where they were.

The combined effort from both sides had the unexpected result of helping them get a tether of proton stream around the beast for the first time in their battle. They had it, but it was a weak hold at best.

“There’s no way,” Simon was yelling, “that we’ll be able to walk him closer to the van without losing breaking the proton stream.”

Before Jordan could ask what Simon suggested that they do, he threw a glance up at where the van was to gauge the distance in his mind.

“Hey Simon,” he yelled back to his friend.

“What?”

“Did you forget to put the parking brake on?”

Simon looked up to where the van had been parked and saw it rolling right toward them. He was about to scream to get out of the way when he saw the brake lights come on and the back door fly open.

“Did somebody call for backup?” Regina yelled with a smile.

She hopped out of the van just as Cynthia was stepping up beside the lever that would activate the giant trap that the van could become.

“Ready when you are boys,” she yelled.

As one, Jordan and Simon yelled, “Do it!”

The rear end of the van shown like a spotlight across the park as energies shot from the back of it and grabbed at the spirit that they were wrestling.

Walking with the Ghost Panther and keeping their streams on it, they marched the beast right into the maw of their van.

Once the Ghost Panther was in, Cynthia released the trap lever and yanked Regina out of the way as the doors to the back of the van automatically slammed shut.

“Was that a giant cat?” Cynthia asked.

Jordan smiled. “Yup.”

“Actually,” Simon corrected, “it was a demigod that works in collaboration with Erra. The ‘Furious Panther’ out of the Seven.”

“So, a big cat?”

He frowned and then nodded.

“More importantly,” Simon continued, “they’ve discovered how to disperse their unused PKE energy to obtain camouflage.”

Cynthia frowned and looked at Jordan.

“This thing was registering as a Class 1 until we woke it up. Then it gathered itself together and was turned into that thing in the back of the van,” he clarified.

“They can hide?” Regina asked.

Simon nodded. “Our job seems to have suddenly become much more difficult.”

Ghostbusters: Des Moines- Ep 6: Blast from the Past

Episode 6: “Blast from the Past”

The TV cut to an ad for the Ghostbusters that had just began making waves in Des Moines.

Daniel Carter grimaced as Cynthia Palmer stepped into the screen holding a cell phone while wearing her Ghostbuster uniform. She pointed at the screen.

“If you go into your application store, you can search ‘Ghostbuster Neighborhood Watch.’ Once you’ve downloaded the app, you’ll be helping us to locate spiritual dangers throughout the city.” She pocketed the phone and added. “We’re on the hunt for major spikes in spiritual activity and your help will give us the edge we need to find what we’re looking for.”

A Ghostbuster with a nametag that read “Ross” pointed at the screen and energetically said, “Only you can save the city! Be a Ghostbuster and download our app today!”

Dan clicked the remote to change the channel. After everything that he had been through, he couldn’t stand Cynthia Palmer and liked the idea of making her disappear with a click.

Instead, the remote clicked, but the channel didn’t change. He hit the button again a few times, but nothing happened. He sighed, trying to think of where he had last seen AAA batteries in his small apartment.

That’s when he also noticed that Cynthia’s face was expanding on the screen as if she was about to climb out and ruin his life all over again. Growing to fill the entire thing. Dan leaned forward and reached toward the screen as if he could reach out and strangle his old friend.

A knock at the door reminded him that his television wasn’t going to start ejecting people from it. Hell, it was a console television from the early nineties.

Dan grabbed his crutches and used them to hop with his one foot to the door. When he answered the door, Daniel found a white bearded gentleman dressed in a business suit.

“Hello, Daniel,” the man stuck out his hand. Dan glared at it, but didn’t accept the handshake. “I’m here about an urgent matter. Might I come in?”

“Who are you?”

“I think that I’m someone who can help you get what you desire.”

Dan’s glare turned into a frown. “How does what I want become an urgent matter?”

The older man smiled a toothy grin. “Urgent to me, fortuitous for yourself.”

“And you seem to know what I want?”

“I do,” he answered. “Would you let me in if I told you that I could help you rain Hell down on Cynthia Palmer?”

For the first time in a long time, Dan felt the edges of his mouth curl up. He hopped out of the way of the door and allowed the older gentleman to enter.

“My name,” he said as he took Dan’s seat in front of the console television, “is Martin Murray.”

“Tell me Martin,” Dan sat on the console tv and left his crutches leaning against the nearby wall, “what can you do about Cynthia Palmer?”

“Absolutely nothing,” Martin frowned. “Unfortunately, my efforts against her have been met with resistance.” His frown was replaced with a smile that made Dan feel uneasy. “But I can help you do what I couldn’t.”

“How’s that?”

Martin reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a pill bottle and a flask.

“Take both of these and you’ll be able to ruin her life.” He handed them to Dan who proceeded to look them over.

“And these are?”

Martin raised an eyebrow. “A pill to kill you and an elixir to revive you.”

“How is my dying supposed to hurt Cynthia Palmer?”

Martin shook his head. “The flask will bring you back. Bigger and stronger. You’ll be able to destroy her and everything she’s built.”

“And then what?”

“Whatever you want. I’m building a new world and people with the gifts I’m giving you will rule it.” Martin stood and walked to the door. “Drink the flask first, it won’t taste good. Negatively charged slime never does. Then take the pill. The effects should be quick, so get comfortable.” He opened the door and stood half in the apartment as he said. “Then hunt down and destroy Cynthia Palmer.”

Martin Murray shut the door behind himself, and Dan set the pill bottle down. He twisted the cap and sniffed. The smell wasn’t bad or good, but the something about the smell reminded him of that day in Afghanistan.

Sergeant Palmer was asked to assign patrol detail and had chosen Private First Class Daniel Carter to accompany her on the morning rounds. He had only been a few days from his tour ending, and was looking forward to the flight to Germany before heading home.

When their truck had been hit by the IED, Dan was surprised that he had come out of it unscathed. He got out of the vehicle and was immediately ducking enemy fire. Diving back into the truck, he saw that the Sergeant hadn’t moved. Shaking her a few times, she was alive, but unconscious.

He pulled her from the truck on the side with the least amount of gunfire hitting the truck. The whole time he was radioing in their position and the attack. Looking around the truck, he couldn’t see where the gunfire was coming from, but he knew he wasn’t getting anywhere if he had to drag Sergeant.

When she started to wake up, he told her as much. “I can get back on foot, I’ll get help.”

“No,” she sat up and grunted. Her eyes told him that Palmer was concussed. “Return fire. Keep them back.”

Dan shook his head. “I can get there. Stay here.”

“Private, that’s an order. Do not leave.”

He ignored her and ran away from the truck. Gunfire peppered the ground around him as he ran. Dan pulled his pistol and returned fire, but the movement slowed him down.

He made it about thirty yards when he saw another truck that must have been sent to answer his radio call. Dan started waving his arms in between shots over his shoulder at the invisible combatants.

Then he stepped on another IED. His layover in Germany didn’t happen.

If Cynthia Palmer hadn’t assigned him, if she hadn’t been injured, and if she hadn’t been right, he would still have his leg.

He drank the flask. While the taste was about as subdued as the smell, the effect was immediate. Dan’s rage only seemed to grown inside him. As he finished the flask, all he could think about was destroying Cynthia Palmer. It was the reason that he was still alive.

Alive? Through his rage, he remembered the pill. The flask would revive him, but the pill would kill him. Whatever transformation these tools were going to do to Dan’s body he just didn’t care. That Murray fellow told him this is how he would get his revenge on Cynthia.

Without thinking about it, he popped the lid on the pill bottle and swallowed the only pill that was inside.

Nothing happened immediately. Dan hadn’t expected it to. Even with his rage, he knew pills still had to dissolve to be of any use. So he waited and thought on ways to destroy his old Sergeant.

He didn’t have to wait long, and after about three minutes his chest suddenly felt too small for his heart. The beating of his heart grew louder and he could feel the pressure throughout his whole body as his ticker struggled to keep beating.

It was a struggle that it wouldn’t win.

Daniel Carter died.

A minute later, his soul, charged by the negatively charged slime, tore itself from his corpse and looked down on to his body.

Rage filled him as he realized that the only way he would get his vengeance on Cynthia Palmer, a Ghostbuster, was to become a ghost. She had cost him his leg, and now she had cost him his life.

With a roar of fury that shattered the windows, Dan’s ghost launched himself out of the apartment and into the city.

 

“I think that went well,” Regina said as they left the studio.

Jordan nodded. “Especially for our first televised appearance. We should think about doing a commercial,” he shrugged. “Might get us more calls.”

“If this app takes off,” Simon said, “than we won’t need to do any advertising. It’ll be assigning us jobs on a regular basis.”

They were unloading their equipment into the van, handing it off to Simon to load into the appropriate cages.

Cynthia had unloaded most of her equipment when she noticed that her PKE Meter wasn’t anywhere in sight.

“Shoot,” she said. “Hey guys, I’ll be right back.” She hooked her thumb over her shoulder. I left my PKE Meter at the coffee table.”

Jordan shook his head. “One little tv-spot and suddenly our little warrior is forgetting her equipment. I thought it would take longer for the spotlight to blind you.”

Cynthia hit him in the arm. “You’re hilarious. I’ll be right back.”

Running back into the building, she hopped into the elevator for the ride to the television station’s floor.

Once she was back in the studio and had explained her predicament to the receptionist, he waved her back.

The PKE Meter was right where she thought it would be, sitting on the edge of table where the coffee was served. As she reached for it, Cynthia jumped as it suddenly came to life, the antennae on it lighting up as they spread out.

“What the hell?”

She grabbed it off of the table and grabbed her Ghost Mace from her belt at the same time.

“You won’t need that,” a familiar voice said from behind her.

Cynthia spun around, bringing the Ghost Mace up as she did, but she never got a chance to use it. A spectral hand grabbed her wrist while another grabbed her throat.

Recognition lit Cynthia’s eyes up. “Private?”

“Hey Sarge,” he smiled, but it was bitter. “Saw your news spot. Great work, but I think I can do better.”

As he said it, Cynthia realized that her wrist wasn’t being held anymore, so much as Private Carter’s spectral blue wrist had begun to merge with her own. Within seconds, his spiritual presence had slid into her physical form. Cynthia couldn’t move at all as Dan started taking control of her body.

“You know what they say,” he said with a mix of her voice and his own, “possession is 9/10ths of the law.”

 

Back at the van, Simon waited patiently for Cynthia to return so he could close of the grating over where the PKE Meters hung.

When she finally made it back to the van, she looked up at him, leaned a bit to see his entire chest, and then handed him the PKE Meter. The screen was broken on it.

“What happened to it?”

Cynthia shrugged. “I don’t know. Got up there and they seemed to be having some sort of celebration. I think it got bounced around during that.” She leaned again, and Simon looked down at his chest to see if he had something on it. Just the nametag on his jumpsuit.

“Is there something on me?”

Cynthia shook her head, “Nah, Franco. I thought I saw something, but just the light playing tricks.”

“Franco? Since when do you call me Franco?”

She shrugged. “I was thinking while I was in the elevator, that if we’re going to take this to the next level we need to be working on our branding. The people see our nametags, we should use them to address each other.”

Simon frowned, but it made sense. “Ok…Palmer.”

For some reason that was outside of Simon’s understanding, Cynthia cringed when he said her name, as if she had been physically hurt by it.

He locked the cage and hopped down from the van, “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” she paused as if struggling to remember, “Simon. I think the elevator might have messed with my head.”

“Or something like that,” he added skeptically. “Are you driving?”

Cynthia reached into her jumpsuit pocket and fished out the keys, “Sure.”

The ride back to their headquarters on wasn’t a long one. The office building where they hung their jumpsuits was only a mile from the television station, but Cynthia took her time, every now and then she seemed confused by a turn, but when Jordan asked her about it, she smiled and said, “Don’t worry about it, Ross, I’m just lost in thought.”

“Just don’t be lost in Des Moines,” he chuckled. “Some of us have things to do.”

When they pulled in, Cynthia tossed him the keys and said, “I’m not feeling the best. Think I’ll head home for the rest of the day.”

Jordan nodded. “Sure thing. If we need you, we’ll call.”

Climbing into her pickup truck, Cynthia angled the mirror down to look into her eyes.

“Stop trying to block your memories from me,” Dan growled into the mirror. “If I get discovered, I will kill your friends.”

“Listen to me, Dan,” Cynthia was looking back at her own face in the mirror, but she wasn’t seeing herself, she was seeing the spectral former Private First Class. “I don’t know why you’re doing this, or why you’re so,” she gasped as she felt the emotions radiating off of his soul, “angry, but this can’t end well for you. The best case scenario is you ending up inside our containment unit, while worst case has me screaming inside of my own body and annoying the hell out of you until you finally leave.”

“Or,” Dan countered. “Me listening to your agonizing screams as I dismantle your life piece by piece before a distraught Cynthia Palmer, former Ghostbuster, is found hanging in her apartment.” He shrugged, “Besides, can’t you feel the exchange taking place?” In the mirror, Dan’s spectral image glowed a brighter blue and shimmered. “The longer I am in your body, the more I take from you.” He smiled menacingly. “I’m absorbing your soul. You’ll be around long enough to watch your life fall apart, and then you won’t exist anymore.”

“You’re an idiot, they won’t believe you’re me.”

“They already bought it.” He paused for a minute. “Wait a second, one of your thoughts just drifted into my mind.” Dan took the keys out of the ignition and got out of the car.

“What are you doing?” Cynthia demanded from inside her own head. Shock hit her as she saw what he was planning to do. “No, you can’t.”

Dan walked back into the office.

“Forget something?” Regina asked.

“Yup,” he punched her across face and kicked Simon in the gut as he stood up.

“Cynthia, what are you doing?” Jordan came running forward. Dan threw a stapler at him forcing him to duck.

“Ross,” Dan was trying to find something in Cynthia’s memory to use against him. He was coming up empty. Cynthia had respect for this friend. Hurting him would hurt her. “It’s time you became what you hunt.”

Cynthia’s body walked to the caged lockers and, with strength that surprised the rest of the Ghostbusters, tore the lock off of her own. She put on the pack and wasted no time drawing the neutrino wand and launching a stream at Jordan.

He only barely was able to step out of the way in time and dove toward Simon.

Simon grabbed his arm, “She’s possessed.”

A proton stream blasted the desk and they each grabbed Regina’s arms and tugged her toward the back office.

“No shit, Sherlock,” Regina replied.

“We are leading her toward the Containment Unit,” Simon continued, ignoring Regina.

Jordan’s face blanched. “That’s bad. Very bad.”

Simon nodded.

“We need to stop her.”

Simon joined Regina this time as they looked at Jordan with dumbfounded expressions.

Another proton stream almost took off Regina’s head.

“Come on back, guys,” Not-Cynthia’s voice sing-songed to them. “I only want to kill you and undo everything you’ve built.”

“We have no choice,” Jordan said. “If we don’t go to the back room, we’re going to know what it’s like to be busted.”

Simon nodded and led the way through the secured door and into the room workshop where he stored all of his prototypes and the containment unit.

“Is there anything in here that we can use?” Regina asked.

Simon shook his head. “No, nothing in here is complete.”

“And we don’t want to hurt Cynthia,” Jordan added. “We need slime.”

Regina suddenly remembered her Ghost Mace.

“I’ve got an idea.” She pointed at the door. “When she…it…whatever comes in here, distract her.”

As if her words commanded it, a proton stream blew the door to splinters. They all ducked as Cynthia walked in.

“Um,” Regina waved in Cynthia’s direction, “I said I need a distraction…”

Jordan’s eyes went wide, “But she has a nuclear accelerator attached to her back.”

Simon rolled his eyes, stood up and grabbed some parts off of the work bench and shrugged. “Hey, you’re using that proton pack all wrong.”

He raised the parts up in a gesture that made it look like he was going to use them to shoot at her.

Cynthia spun the wand toward him and shouted, “Is this better?” before launching a proton stream at him.

He only barely jumped out of the way, but it was enough of a distraction for Regina to sneak up behind Cynthia switch off her proton pack and soak the back of her head in the mace slime.

Cynthia roared in pain as the positively charged slime tried to overwhelm Dan’s spectral energy.

He roared again and turned to flee but was halted as Jordan and Regina held onto the proton pack.

Cynthia’s head turned around unnaturally to face them both and in it they didn’t see Cynthia anymore. Her face had morphed into that of a man. She slipped out of the pack before her head twisted forward again and she flew back the way she had come and out of the building.

“Well,” Simon said, “that was new.”

 

Cynthia hid inside her own mind while the wounded Dan flew through the air. When he finally came to a stop, gripping her head and howling into the air, they were in a small one bedroom apartment.

On the floor next to a large console television was a body laying face down. It had only one leg.

“So,” Cynthia asked, “this is your apartment then?”

A demon like roar escaped from her mouth again, and Cynthia noticed something.

“Do you feel that?” She asked Dan. “That slime you were hit with is giving me back my strength.”

Using her will, she confronted Dan.

They were still in her mind, but to each of them it looked like they were in the desert, facing each other on a long dirt road.

Afghanistan.

Cynthia looked down at herself to see she was wearing her Army fatigues.

“Well, that’s different.” She looked across at Dan to see that he was in his fatigues, too. On closer examination, she could tell that he was hurt. It wasn’t his injury from when he was last in Afghanistan, instead he had burn marks all over his head, mostly toward the back where the slime had hit. As for his actual injury, his leg was still there. In spectral form his wound was nonexistent.

“I had years of rehab!” Dan shouted at her. “All because you ordered me along on that patrol!”

From seemingly nowhere, he drew a pistol and aimed it at her.

“You were injured, Private, because you can’t follow a simple order.” Suddenly Cynthia realized that she was holding a proton pack wand. She flipped a switch on it. “If you had spent the last decade focusing on building a life instead of hating me, you might have been happy.” She spun a dial on the side. “I’m sorry that your life went to shit, but I’m done letting you ruin mine.”

“No more talking!” Dan shouted, and began firing at her.

Cynthia flinched before realizing that the gun wasn’t actually firing. It clicked, over and over, but no bullets fired from the gun.

Dan looked at the pistol with rage before throwing it to the side and charging Cynthia.

“I don’t think so,” Cynthia shouted and then flipped the final switch.

A boson dart launched from her proton pack and hit Dan square in the chest.

Instantly, Cynthia was laying on the apartment floor coughing as blue spectral energy leapt from her chest. She climbed to her feet and saw that she was standing across the room from Dan’s ghost.

“I’m sorry that you were wounded,” Cynthia said softly, “but the wound didn’t ruin your life and neither did I. You ruined your life by focusing on hate and revenge instead of moving on.”

Dan’s face was contorted by the rage, and Cynthia could see her words weren’t having much effect.

“You can move on now, though,” she continued. “Let go of your hate and go find something for yourself in this new existence.”

“NO!” he flew at her.

Cynthia flinched and threw up her arms.

A crash made her open her eyes and she looked around to see that Simon, Regina, and Jordan had kicked in the door.

Proton streams wrangled Dan as a trap slid underneath him. Within seconds, Dan was in the trap and Jordan was looking over Cynthia.

“We need to make sure you’re healthy,” he explained. “Kinda saw your neck do some weird stuff that it shouldn’t do.”

“Holy crap!” Regina was exclaiming. “What happened?”

Cynthia pointed at the body on the floor and explained who he was and what had happened.

“He’s still fresh,” Simon observed. “He shouldn’t have been able to create a spiritual form yet. It takes time and the collection of energies.”

“He needed to culminate more emotional energy,” Jordan agreed.

“More slime?” Regina asked.

Jordan nodded.

“How did you guys find me?” Cynthia asked. “I didn’t even know Dan lived here.”

Regina smiled, “The app is working. Enough people have downloaded it that Simon was able to track you as you flew across the city.”

Regina’s watch buzzed and she took a look at it. “There’s something in here giving off a reading.”

Jordan drew his PKE Meter, but Cynthia snatched it out of his hand. She followed it to the console television where she found an unmarked pill bottle and a flask. The PKE Meter spiked when she waved it near the flask.

Picking it up, she overturned it until a blue slime dripped from it.

“Is that what I think it is?”

Jordan looked over her shoulder at the PKE Meter and then at the flask. “Looks like he chugged slime.”

Simon raised an eyebrow. “If he drank negatively charged slime, it might give his spirit enough power to coalesce at the sooner after death.”

“Where did he get it?” Regina asked.

Cynthia frowned. “Where do you think?” She crouched and inspected her former friend’s body. “He fell away from the television.” She eyed the chair. “Someone else was here. I’m willing to bet it was the Chairman.”

“But…why?” Regina asked.

“To distract us?” Jordan supplied. “Or take us out.”

Cynthia stood up and looked to her friends. “This is great news.”

“Why?” Simon asked.

Jordan smiled. “Because the night that we released the PKE App to the public is the same night that they sent a hitman after us.”

Regina caught on. “They’re scared of us?”

Cynthia nodded. “They’re scared of us.”

Ghostbusters: Des Moines- Episode 5 Slimed! Part 2

Slimed! Part 2:

The newly minted Ghostbuster Van had sirens that Regina could see herself learning to enjoy, but at that moment, the shrill whine was only a hum in the back of her mind as she prepared herself for taking on the Possessor.

The van pulled into the parking lot at the Wallace Building and Simon was suddenly unlocking the metal grating lining the walls.

From the front, Cynthia called out to him, “Jordan and I will carry the proton packs and the traps. I want you and Regina to have the slime packs.”

“Will it work against the things he summons?” Regina asked as Simon helped her into her slime pack.

“Yes, but not like the proton packs.” He straightened his glasses as Jordan helped him into his slime pack. “The slime is positively charged, so it should neutralize the negatively charged entities.”

“What does ‘neutralize’ mean?”

“The force that mobilizes them, either the Possessor or a soul that he has enlisted, will lose its physical form. It won’t be easy for it to build a new one. As far as you’re concerned, it’ll be long gone.”

That was good enough for Regina. She helped Jordan into his proton pack and they all climbed out of the back of the van.

Simon showed Regina how to use the slime pack. “Just pull this lever up here. You’ll get more distance the farther back you pull it. It only has about 30 yards of pressure.”

“What happens when I run out of slime?”

Simon shook his head. “This is just like your Ghost Mace. The slime is duplicates itself. If you find that your streams are weak, just give it a minute.” Simon was suddenly worried. “Oh, and think happy thoughts.”

“Really?” She smirked, thinking Simon was joking.

Simon nodded. “Yes. The slime is generated by emotions. It might self-replicate, but that doesn’t mean that it inherits the same mood. It absorbs the moods around it, but if there are strong enough emotions that are contradictory to what is in the rest of the tank, the slime could…turn.”

“That’s bad?”

Jordan joined them. “The baddest. Instead of hurting Bluto, you’re feeding spinach to Popeye.”

“Happy thoughts,” Regina gave a thumbs up to them. “Got it.”

Cynthia came around from the front, and Regina helped her into her proton pack.

“So,” Jordan said, “what’s the plan?”

“That,” Cynthia pointed down the street where police cars were racing toward them. Their lights and sirens on. None of them had noticed the new sirens, as they had already grown accustomed to the sound in their new van.

“As it turns out,” Cynthia continued, “we have city contracts, and I was able to leverage that to get local law enforcement to help us with our situation.”

“You’re a goddess,” Jordan said through a wide grin.

“Don’t go malevolent, or we might have to slime you next.” Simon added without a hint of mirth.

Cynthia smirked. “You can try.”

The police cars pulled in next to the van, and the first officer stepped out and walked up to meet the Ghostbusters.

“What do you need from us?”

Cynthia pointed at the Wallace Building. “We need Brent Allen out of that building. We’d prefer it if you could bring him to the back of our van, but if he struggles at all leave him to us.”

“While the city might have signed off on this, it doesn’t change the fact that I can’t arrest someone without probable cause.”

Jordan stepped up. “You’re only bringing him out here for questioning. Besides, he’s impersonating a state official. That’s very illegal, last I checked.”

The officer nodded. “I can work with that. We’ll get him out here.” He turned and started up the sidewalk and toward the building with his men.

Simon added quickly. “He’s dangerous. Try not to…spook him.”

Cynthia rolled her eyes.

To all of their surprise, the police were in the building for less than a minute before they were walking out with Brent Allen between them. He wasn’t handcuffed or resisting, he was only walking with the police as they directed him toward the Ghostbusters.

“What can I do for the Ghostbusters?”

Cynthia stepped forward. “You can exit the man you’re currently possessing and allow us to detain you for questioning.” Her hands gripped her neutrino wand with white knuckles.

“I don’t know about possessions, but I do know that I won’t let you detain me.” Before the Ghostbusters could argue, he added, “You can ask me anything you like, though.”

“Where’s my brother?” Regina demanded.

“Excuse me?” Brent looked confused.

Cynthia waved Regina back and stepped forward. “If you’re not what we think you are, would you mind taking a painless and simple test?”

Before he could answer, Regina stepped forward again and shot the Ghost Mace into his face.

It came out of the can much like normal Mace would. Spraying in an arc and hitting his face in a steady stream. Except this wasn’t mace, it was positively charged slime.

Cynthia would have reprimanded Regina, but she didn’t have time.

Brent’s face stretched, his jaw reaching down to his chest as his eyes swelled and a scream of paranormal proportions echoed across the city.

As one, the police officers all drew their guns and aimed it at the possessed Brent Allen.

“Put your guns down,” Simon yelled. “They wouldn’t do anything anyway.”

None of the officers lowered their guns, but they also didn’t start shooting. The Ghostbusters all accepted that as a sign of restraint.

“Well,” Cynthia said, “what are you waiting for.” She pushed Regina forward. “Soak him!”

Regina raised her hose and pulled the lever. Slime shot in a solid stream directly at the possessed man. Like he was attached to wires that they couldn’t see, he shot into the sky in a high arc and came back down closer to the boarded up glass doors of the Wallace Building. The maneuver put about thirty yards between the Ghostbusters and the spirit.

As one they started running toward him until he let out another howl. His jaw stretched again, going further down his chest, and energy rolled from him in waves. As it did, it carried with it two more spirits.

The ghosts were both corpulent men beyond realistic measures and were wearing torn business suits. They glowed a faint blue hue. Their presence stopped the Ghostbusters’ charge, but only for a moment.

“We’ve got this,” Jordan said with a wink. He shot up at the nearest former politician, and the spirit dove out of the way of the proton stream. “Incredibly nimble for his size,” he mumbled before adding, “Slime the possessor and these guys should disappear.”

Simon and Regina ran at Brent the Possessor and pulled on the large slime levers again. He lifted off of the ground again and spiraled out of the path of the streams.

“Widen your stream,” Simon pointed at a dial on the side of the hose and Regina did as he said.

The result was immediate and similar to turning a shower head from jet to wide. The stream panned horizontally and made it harder for Brent to avoid the pink mess.

To her surprise, Regina got the first hit as the Possessor twisted to avoid Simon’s wide spray and went through Regina’s, which she had turned vertical. Going through it, he collapsed to the ground and shuddered, the pavement cracking underneath him as he fought to hold onto his position in Brent’s body.

“I need to get to the truck,” Simon called. “You got this?”

Regina nodded and turned the dial and the slime being projected returned to the jet setting again. She focused all of her attention on getting the Possessor soaked. Fueled by her need for information about her brother, she was aiming to drown the ghost in the good vibes the slime was permeated with.

As his body continued to convulse, suddenly the possessor was making barking noises as his mouth stretched open again. With a final shudder, Brent Allen vomited the possessor up and into the sky where it floated, looking like a large bat-winged demon in a bright yellow hue. Horns curled behind its ears, and its fangs dripped menacingly.

Giving one last roar at the Ghostbusters and Police, it turned and launched into the sky.

Or at least tried to.

Jordan had been correct. The animating spirit behind the ghosts that he and Cynthia had been wrestling with had been the Possessor. When he was gone, they had vanished, allowing the other two Ghostbusters to join them with the Possessor.

Two proton streams shot into the sky and wrapped around the feet of the demon-looking Possessor. Together, they dragged the spirit towards the back of the Ghostbusters’ new van.

“Don’t look at the van,” he yelled as they entered the range of the still-untested giant trap. Remembering the Police, he yelled it again in their direction.

The spirit pulled and jerked in the grasp of the proton streams, but Cynthia and Jordan were working like a well-oiled machine. As one would get pulled, the other would pull harder. They worked like that, back and forth, until Jordan was standing almost at the van.

“Now?” He asked through gritted teeth.

Simon nodded and pulled a lever that was built into the outside wall of the van.

A loud hum began to build up as whatever machinations that Simon had modded the van with began to spin up. The inside of the van grew incredibly bright and the Ghostbusters all did their best to not look at the light. Jordan and Cynthia shortened their streams until the demon Possessor was bathed in the light.

They held him there until Simon shouted, “Release!”

They cut their streams and the Possessor was yanked into the back of the van. Simultaneously, Simon pressed the lever into the other direction and the doors slammed shut.

“Holy shit,” Jordan said. “Did that actually work?”

Simon raised an eyebrow. “Of course it worked.”

The van shuddered and then rocked as the ghost crashed around inside.

The Ghostbusters thanked the Police and Cynthia quickly explained how they would be containing the creature, as to assure the local PD that it wouldn’t be released again.

When she was done, she walked up to the Ghostbusters and smiled. “Well,” she looked at Regina. “I think you’ve got a few questions for that thing?”

Smiling, Regina led her way to the front of the van and climbed into the cab.

In the cab of the van, the Ghostbusters crammed in to get a good look through the faraday cage.

The ghost was starting to mellow out and shrank down from his demon form. When his size was back to something at least slightly more normal, he took on the shape of Regina’s brother, Blake.

“Oh, look. I found your brother.” He let out a long cackle.

“Who are you?” Jordan asked.

The ghost grinned and razor sharp teeth replaced Blake’s normal smile. “Is this what we’re doing now? Conversation?” He sighed. “I tried that earlier, remember? You sprayed me with Mace.”

“Well, this is what we’re doing, so, answer the damn question.” Regina barked.

The ghost took on Blake’s voice, “Hey sis, thanks for leaving me to burn in Hell.”

Regina slammed her hands against the faraday cage and Simon pulled her back while Jordan continued talking to the ghost.

“Answer the question, please.”

The ghost’s voice returned to its eerie echo. “You’re no fun.” He smiled a toothy smile again, “She’s fun, but you’re not.” He let out a long sigh. “There is no translation for my name in your language.”

“Try,” Cynthia growled.

“The closest that I can offer is ‘A Raging Lion.’”

Cynthia looked at Jordan and he nodded a confirmation. This ghost was one of the seven.

“Well, I think you’re our first, so we’ll call you ‘One,’” Jordan said.

One laughed. It was long and over the top. When he finally stopped and saw that the four Ghostbusters looked confused, he asked, “Are you being serious?”

“About what?” Cynthia asked.

“I’m not the first of the Seven that you’ve dispatched.”

“What?”

He folded Blake’s arms. “You have taking out the…um…’Fearful Storm,’ would be the translation, and our soul-eater, ‘The Predator with the Open Mouth.” He leaned back on an invisible chair. “The Fearful Storm attacked you near where we were summoned. His job was to protect our discovery.” He waved his hands about. “The Soul-Eater has always been difficult to control. He had no purpose other than his own.”

“Why are you telling us this?” Cynthia demanded.

She was right to ask, the other Ghostbusters realized. He had no reason to help them. He was already captured and wasn’t going anywhere.

“Because there’s nothing you can do about it,” One answered. “The wheels have been turned.”

“Why were you in Brent Allen?” Cynthia continued questioning.

One smiled, “Wheels needed to be turned.”

“And where are the rest of the Seven?”

One shrugged. “I have not been informed. The Seven are agents of chaos. We stir the spiritual energies in preparation for the Rise of Erra.”

“I thought Erra was here already,” Cynthia stated.

One nodded. “Yes, but he has yet to make his,” he waved jazz hands, “entrance. He can’t do that until he has more power.”

“Where’s Erra?”

One shook his head. “That isn’t your question to ask.” He smirked, obviously excited for what was coming next.

Cynthia touched Jordan’s arm, and they left the cab of the van and joined Regina and Simon.

“We won’t get too much more out of him,” Cynthia said before facing Regina. “There’s only one question left to ask. Are you ready for it?”

Regina didn’t answer and stomped back to the van. Climbing into the cab, she shut the door behind her.

“Hey sis,” One said in Blake’s voice. “Welcome back.”

“Where is Blake?”

“Right here, silly.”

“Where is my brother?”

“I told you the first time,” One leaned forward. “He’s burning in what your small fleshy existence would refer to as Hell.”

Regina smiled. “You’re forgetting that I was there. Somebody possessed him. Where did he go?”

Blake’s face stopped smiling. “Erra used him as a doorway. Many spirits left through your brother, but only the final one wears his flesh.”

“Erra has him?”

“This sense of identity that you attach to his flesh is silly. Erra is in possession of your brother’s body, but it is very likely that his spirit has been devoured or released during the Great Exodus.”

Regina gulped. “Great Exodus?”

One pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “When your brother puked up spirits.” He sighed and leaned back against his invisible chair again. “Either way, your best chance of getting your brother back is to find Erra.” One snickered. “Good luck. He’s a god with a penchant for destruction. Your brother is likely batting for my team.”

“Where is Erra?”

One furrowed Blake’s brow. “I can feel him. He is close. That is all I know.”

Regina leaned toward the passenger side door and rolled down the window. “Hey Simon, is the portable containment unit installed?”

“Yes,” Simon called back. “Purple button.”

“Thanks,” she immediately located the purple button and slammed her hand down on it.

One of the sides of the faraday cage popped open and a bright light emitted from a piece of the machinery there. The machine was larger and looked like a series of three red-painted lockers welded together. The bright light was arrived with a pop in Regina’s ears as the air pressure in the van changed. Much as with the van previously, the bright light pulled at the ghost. One howled, fighting it, but was more resigned this time than he had been when the van had collected him.

 

The Ghostbusters all sat around their ‘conference room’ table, which was more of a small table in their break room, but it served their purposes.

“So, we’ve caught three of the Seven?” Jordan asked.

Regina nodded. “If we can trust an ancient and evil entity.”

Simon nodded. “I do. He’s powerful and cocky. I trust everything he said because he thinks we can’t do anything about it.”

“And he might be right,” Cynthia added. “We only found One because Regina was walking around blindly following PKE readings.”

Regina nodded. “Isn’t there a way that we all can do that?”

Cynthia folded her arms. “Four people covering all of the Des Moines Metro? We’ll never find him. That’s not being pessimistic, that’s being factual.”

“Why only four of us?” Simon asked raising an eyebrow.

“What?” Cynthia was confused.

“Well, why can’t the whole city search for us as well?”

Jordan’s eyes lit up. “I just read about this in a book.” He ran to his cubicle and then came directly back, tossing a worn copy of a book on the table. The name was Broken Nights, by Matthew Davenport, and the cover was a mix of blacks and purples with some sort of vigilante standing on a car with rage in his eyes.

“It’s a novel about a superhero. He designs an application so that anyone who downloads it can use it to report crimes.”

Simon nodded. “That’s exactly where I was going with this. We take the PKE app that I made for Regina to KCWI and do a special on Great Day. Once we tell everyone in the city that they can be Junior Ghostbusters just by downloaded the application, we’ll have the entire city helping us.”

Regina shook her head. “It won’t work. The app needs the case attachment.”

Simon shook his head. “We’ll do a scaled down version of the app. It’ll scan wireless, carrier signals, and every other sensor on the phones. It won’t be anywhere near as powerful as your app, but with the whole city running it…”

“We’ll know every PKE spike in the entire city,” Cynthia mumbled.

Simon nodded and high-fived Jordan who was waiting patiently with his hand out.

“We’re the only Ghostbusters in the Midwest,” Cynthia said louder. “If we get the everyone using this application, we’ll be busier than we ever could have hoped.”

“Well,” Simon slowly stood up, “then I had better get to work.”