A browser window finally opened. Adam wanted to search for pawn shops on Federal, follow up on the warlock, but the spirit had to come first.
There were always portents when the spirit world began bleeding into the mortal. A quick search told him the Denver airport was the center of some conspiracy theories. Most of them revolved around an apocalyptic mural, showing native people being destroyed by fire. There were gargoyles, statues of them climbing out of suitcases. From the air the entire airport looked a lot like a swastika. There was talk of bunkers, underground structures, and of course, Saurians.
Closer to the city, there were ghost stories, and tunnels running between them, the train station, and the old downtown brothels. The jarred, pickled heads of two outlaws went missing from the capitol building. Nothing pointed to the spirit. Then he found an article on the old sanitarium and dug a little further.
Adam squeezed his eyes shut, counted to ten, and went to find his brother.
Bobby sat in the living room, an actual newspaper in his lap. He just needed reading glasses and a pair of slippers to finish looking like he’d time traveled from the 1950s.
“What hospital do you work at?” Adam asked.
“Why do you want to know?”
“It’s Mercy, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” Bobby said. He’d changed into sweatpants and a T-shirt. Both appeared new, like casual was a look he was trying on for an evening. “Why?”
Adam leaned against the doorway, already tensed to walk away.
“Mercy tore down its old psych ward recently,” Adam said. “I think they set something loose.”
“Why would you think that?” Bobby asked.
“Three of the hospital personnel have been committed in the last month. You didn’t hear anything about it?”
“A hospital is a big place, Adam,” Bobby said. “This can’t be about Mercy.”
Adam sighed. “Spirits have to be summoned or set loose. It had to come from somewhere. This one is threaded throughout the city, connected to different people. I’d bet these are them, that they’re all in the same state as Annie.”
Bobby nibbled his lip, calculating, and said, “All right. What do you need?”
“Get me a look at the construction site.”
Bobby was already prickly. No need to tell him everything. Adam also needed a look at the personnel files of the possessed, to see if there was something in their background that might hint at a magical bloodline or a history of sensitivity. “I’ll see if there’s anything to it.”
“Okay,” Bobby said. “Come to work with me tomorrow.”
9
Adam
Adam hadn’t brought anything close to business casual in his backpack, so he met his brother by the front door in clean jeans and a checkered button-up. His jean jacket had some vaguely brown stains on the lining that were probably coffee, but it would pass muster so long as he didn’t take it off. He’d at least gelled and combed his hair.
Bobby gave Adam the once-over and led him out the door.
“You look good, Adam,” he said when the car was in motion. “You should always dress like this, tone down the redneck thing you’ve got going.”
“I look like a missionary,” Adam said.
“Is that so bad?” Bobby asked.
Adam clenched his jaw, uncertain if Bobby meant to tease, provoke, or if he really just didn’t know. Adam kept his mouth shut and settled into the Audi’s leather seat. He had to admit it was a nice car, but like all things Bobby, it had a dickish quality to it, and was nice and new without feeling comfortable or personal. He’d take the Cutlass along with her dents and the bailing wire holding her together.
The hospital looked Spanish in style. Old, more like an apartment building than a medical facility. Adam could see why they were demolishing part of it. He checked it with his Sight, saw no sign of the spirit. In fact, he didn’t See or sense any magic.
Adam blinked, shaking off the empty feeling he got from the place as Bobby parked in a space with his name on it.
“Come on,” Bobby said, leaving the car with a little too much enthusiasm.
He wants to show off.
Like Adam’s approval should matter. Like anything should matter except Annie.
The hospital’s interior felt like an RV, all plastic walls and manufactured parts. Adam could have touched the low ceiling. He wondered if it was an effect of its age or if they’d built it that way on purpose, if smaller spaces prevented infection or the prefab walls made it easier to clean up the blood. It kind of reminded him of their trailer, his childhood home in the Oklahoma woods, only cleaner, newer. Maybe that’s why Bobby liked working there so much.
Bobby preened at the staff’s friendly respect. Other doctors nodded. Nurses smiled in passing. They called him Doctor Binder, which sounded a bit like a super villain. It wasn’t the life Adam wanted, even if some of the nurses were attractive guys.
Adam noticed a few of them moving through the hallways as Bobby took him through security and got him a visitor badge. He couldn’t say what kind of life he did want. He’d done odd jobs for years now, not thinking about much beyond surviving or finding his dad. Sometimes he felt the future stretching out before him, and his stomach clenched at the thought of facing it alone. Bobby had Annie. She should be more important to him.
“Wait here,” Bobby said, pointing to a chair. “I’ll get someone to show you around.”
Adam took a seat, dismissed the stack of magazines, and folded his hands together. He forced a smile for the nurse watching from the corner and tried not to fidget.
The hospital felt all wrong. He’d driven Sue to doctor’s appointments from time to time. Sensations, worry, frustration, and suffering permeated places like this. But he got nothing from Mercy. No feeling at all leaked through his defenses. Adam pressed his back against the wall and squirmed, trying to scratch an itch in the center of his back. Life was everywhere. Even the most remote area had something, some sense of spirit.
Careful of what he might find, Adam trailed his senses out around him, casting them like fishing lines. Nothing. No tremors of activity in the spirit realm, no ghosts.
Eyes wide, breath held, he tried to accept what it meant.
He’d never felt anything like it. He’d never been anywhere so void of energy or feeling. A hospital, a tornado of life and death, should teem with emotion.
Someone cleared his throat, drawing Adam out of his thoughts.
He opened his eyes and faced a cop. He didn’t look much older than Adam. Tall, lean, and Latino, his uniform lay tight across his shoulders.