The Edge of the Cemetery

Chapter 2

Chapter 2The following morning I went over to see Billy. She lived with my much beloved elderly neighbor, Justine Wilkinson. Justine was Billy's grandmother's cousin, but it was much easier to refer to her as Billy's aunt. We share the sixth floor of an Art Deco apartment building in Pacific Heights that was converted to condos back in the ʼ50s. Each floor originally had five one-bedroom apartments with formal living and dining spaces, a den, and a good size kitchen. I have one of those, but when Justine's very wealthy father purchased her unit, he bought three and combined them, making Justine's the largest in the building, and by far the nicest.

Margie, Justine's new companion, chef, and sometimes chauffeur—and a retired ghost killer—answered after my first knock. She had a slight scowl on her face when she opened the door, but smiled when she realized it was me.

Margie was hired to replace Anne, who was Justine's previous companion. Anne turned out to be a spy for Vokkel and the half-sister of Vokkel's closest minion, Edgar; she subsequently died for those relationships, right along with Vokkel. Margie came highly recommended by Aris and the Watchers, and Justine seemed to be quite fond of her, so that made her A-Okay in my book. She was a tall, sturdy woman with salt and pepper shoulder length hair that was always neatly pulled back into a ponytail, and she had an endless supply of khaki pants and polo shirts that she wore like uniforms.

“Hello, George. I'm so glad you're here!” Margie was a good-natured woman and almost always in an upbeat mood, but she seemed a little distressed this morning, and I was pretty sure I knew the source. Billy.

Billy, like me, was one of the most powerful ghost killers to have been born in quite some time. In fact, the last two that were as powerful as us were my mother and Billy's grandmother, Wilhelmina Wilkinson (also known as Billy), who were both dead now. Billy was also one of the most brazen, obnoxious, and generally difficult people I'd ever met. She had piercing green eyes and a wicked ability to use those optical beauties like a weapon—an especially focused glare usually meant impending danger to the recipient. It was unsettling, and had sent many a stronger man into a state of panic. But, much to my surprise, she'd become one of my closest friends.

Reluctantly, I asked, “What's wrong?”

Margie sighed. “Nothing…no snide remarks, no eye-rolls. She's been positively pleasant and polite! I can't take it anymore; if I don't get one of those devastating glares from her soon, I'll lose my mind! But thankfully, she's also much better, and with a hope and a prayer,” Margie made the sign of the cross and looked upward toward Heaven, “you can get her out of my sight for a while.”

I looked down at her in surprise, “She's been nice?” This was new…and a bit disturbing. I would have thought that being locked in the house for the last few days would have ramped up Billy's obnoxiousness tenfold.

Margie gave a hint of a smile, “Yes, even Justine is worried.”

“Where is she?” I asked, still stunned by this strange behavior.

“She's in the living room. Go, I'll bring some coffee,” Margie said as she pushed me toward the entrance of the room.

Billy was sitting on the couch, her legs curled underneath her, reading something on her iPad. She was wearing flannel pajamas, her hair loosely pulled back. The large lump that had graced her forehead a few days before had entered the final stages of healing and was hardly noticeable now. Ghost killers come with a slew of fun skills; seeing and killing ghosts, exceptional speed, strength and agility, and the crème de la crème, we heal very quickly. That last one was my favorite, as it came in handy whether it was a nasty paper cut or a nasty fight with a possessed victim. Either way, it was a winner.

“How ya feeling?” I asked, trying to shake the shock of Margie's complaint from my voice.

“Better…what's wrong?” she asked, almost politely. Who was this woman?

“I…ah…well, Margie says you've been acting strange and she's concerned.”

Her faced hardened and her eyes flashed, her signature dagger-like stare attempting to cut me in half. She said, “I've been trying to be nice to the woman who's been waiting on me hand and foot so I could get better and help you!” she chuffed. “And obviously the sooner the better; what happened to your face?”

I'd come out of last night's Tenderloin fray with a few cuts and bruises, but nothing too bad. I smiled broadly at her less than pleasant attitude…my detestable Billy hadn't gone anywhere after all. Margie had come in with the coffee tray just as Billy finished berating me, and as she passed me, she winked and said, “I knew I could count on you to bring out her shining personality.”

I sat in the armchair nearest Billy and asked, “Seriously, how are you feeling? You look pretty good.”

“I'm fine,” she said amicably enough. She poured two cups of coffee and handed me one. In a not-so-amicable tone, she asked, “So what happened? Why are you all beat up?”

I regaled her with the previous night's exploits and she c****d her head to the side and asked, “No musketeer sighting this time?”

I frowned. “Now that you mention it, no, I didn't see it. But it happened pretty fast and we got backed into an alley, so it could have been around.”

“Someone has to be pulling the strings, right? I mean, ghosts and demons don't work in groups, not without someone encouraging them to do it. It's like they're trying to lure us to them….”

She was right, it did feel like that. Normally the ghosts and demons hunted on a solitary basis, and aside from the surges that Vokkel had called in, we didn't see multiple demons or ghosts working together. Not only that, but most demons weren't able to possess their victims for more than a minute or two at a time. However, in the last week or so, we'd encountered attacks that were clearly organized, and more importantly, the demons were in full possession of their victims for ten minutes or more; in many of the recent cases, much longer, depending on how long it took us to eradicate the demons. In our world, there are levels of both ghosts and demons and ghost killers. It couldn't be a coincidence that powerful demon attacks were happening in the backyard of two of the most powerful ghost killers.

“Yeah, I don't know what to make of that. They were pretty damn strong, and Pete had a lot of trouble keeping up…he almost got his head bashed in. I'm glad you're feeling better, because I obviously could use your help,” I said with a sarcastic grin. She glared at me and I laughed in return, causing her eyes to take on a threatening hue. “Come on, you need to get out for a bit; go get dressed.” My tone didn't invite argument, and for once, she didn't put one up.

It was almost lunch time, so I thought I'd drive her down to Louis' Restaurant out by the Sutro Baths and the Cliff House. After lunch I thought we'd go find some ghosts to kill. What better way to spend a sunny San Francisco afternoon?

I loved Louis'; not only did it have a spectacular view of the Pacific, but it had a friendly ghost in residence. I didn't know her name, but based on her apparel, she died in the 1940s. She's featured in one of the many old pictures hanging on the wall, too. I asked the waitress about her once (referencing the photo on the wall, not the actual ghost), but all she could tell me was that she thought she worked there many years ago. I think she hangs around to keep an eye on the place, to make sure they continue to run it like they have for the last eighty-plus years.

Although most ghosts are bad, some are not…they just didn't manage to keep going when they died. Many good ghosts gesture to us (ghost killers) to send them on, but some don't want to go. Louis' 1940s ghost is one of those.

After lunch I gave Billy the option of hitting the San Francisco Veterans Hospital or the large private hospital closer to home. Hospitals (along with unsavory neighborhoods like the Tenderloin) tend to have more than their share of ghosts, either looking for victims or already haunting victims. She was feeling patriotic, so we hit the SFVA and visited the various outpatient and ambulatory clinics, as well as portions of the hospital, managing to take out several ghosts. Some vets went home wondering why they'd been there in the first place, (once a victim is relieved of their ghost or demon, they don't remember being sick or disabled).