“Gail, damnit, what can I do to prevent it?” There was a high pitch to my voice that surprised me, but hell and damnation, possession?
Gail knelt and extracted her lock picks. “Prevent what?”
“Being possessed. Look, you can’t just drop something like that on me and then not explain.”
She fiddled with the lock. There was a click and the door opened. Gail pocketed her picks, pushed the door open, and stood. “It doesn’t happen that often, but there are sigils that will prevent possession by spirits or demons.”
“How do I get one?”
She smiled. “Remember that tattoo on my rib cage?”
I blinked. “The one below your left breast?”
“Yeah, that one. I wasn’t sure if you noticed it, but since your gaze spent a lot of time in the vicinity, I guess you’d have to spot it sooner or later. Anyway, that’s the sigil I’m talking about. We’ll get you tattooed tomorrow if you aren’t afraid of tattoos.”
“What? No, I just haven’t ever gotten one.”
“Good, we’ll take care of that tomorrow.”
Gail opened the door. A thin scattering of fluorescent fixtures lit the large storeroom. She slipped inside; I followed, closing the door behind us. Gail found a switch and the rest of the ceiling lights came on with a flicker and the hum of electronic ballast.
The storeroom was enormous. At a glance, I guessed it was nearly one hundred feet by sixty feet. Eight-foot high metal shelves lined the walls and formed rows with four feet of separation that ran left and right from a mostly clear central corridor.
I whistled. “Hell, it looks like a Costco. How are we going to find what we’re looking for?”
Gail pointed toward a label on the nearest shelf. “They’re orderly. We just have to find the ones listed in the file.”
She took her tablet from her backpack and called up the copy of the inventory list she’d stolen. After a minute, she called out a letter and number. I started down the corridor, reading out reference numbers as I went. I hadn’t gone ten feet when I stopped. “Gail, these locations aren’t formatted like that one.”
Gail joined me and read the one I was looking at. “You’re right. There must be another location coding farther in.”
She moved ahead of me glancing from left to right to confirm the location information on each stack. I followed closely glancing down the rows as I went. A variety of pots, bowls, figurines, and broken pieces of the same filled the shelves. None of it looked important, except maybe to a college professor.
Gail stopped and pointed to the side. “Over there.”
She moved to the right between shelves. I saw there was an interior cage made of metal fencing in a section where the walls fell back to another open area. I followed her to the cage and then down the length of it until they came to the gate. A padlock secured the gate.
I leaned close and said, “What do you think? Is this where they keep the stuff we’re looking for?”
Gail looked over the shelves inside the cage and shrugged. “I can’t see any location markers, but the locator system out here appears continuous.” She indicated the nearest stacks.
I read the nearest stacks and saw there was continuity from one to the next. I nodded.
Gail attacked the padlock with her picks. It took her longer than the door, but I was still impressed when the lock clicked open. Gail pocketed the picks again and slipped the padlock from the hasp. She lifted the catch and swung the four-foot wide gate back. Before stepping inside, she took out her EMF meter and held it up. I watched over her shoulder to study the little device. It had a row of LEDs across the top and a small dial on the face. Gail turned it on and the LEDs flashed from left to right, three chirps came from a speaker and the dial’s needle pegged. It then fell back to hover just above the zero mark.
Gail moved the meter back and forth and then stepped into the cage. I stayed close enough to see the meter, but off to Gail’s right while I nervously cradled the shotgun in both hands. Werewolves and ghouls I could shoot and see them bleed, what would happen if I shot a ghost? Would it vanish, dissipate, or ignore the shot? Gail was confident that the salt and steel loads in the shotguns would hurt ghosts. I trusted her judgment, didn’t I? Well, I’d just have to wait and see if she knew as much about spirits as werewolves and ghouls.
Five feet from the gate, the meter emitted another chirp and the leftmost LED lit up. I froze, but Gail didn’t hesitate. Still moving the detector from side to side, she continued into the cage, looking for what was registering.
I glanced over my shoulder. Had I heard something?
I turned slowly, avoiding any sound as I listened. It came again, a sharp sound like someone tapping a window with a fingernail. I raised the shotgun to the ready and rested my index finger on the safety.
For a moment, the basement warehouse was quiet; then the meter chirped, and the sound of nails came again. This time it was more recognizable. I gripped the cage’s gate and pulled it closed with a clang.
Gail started and spun. “Jesus, Jesse, don’t startle me like that. Why’d you slam the gate?”
I flipped the latch down and stepped back from the gate. “We’re not alone. Listen.”
Gail cocked her head to one side. The sound of claws running across the cement floor was louder as the animal drew nearer.
“Shit.”
“Exactly,” I agreed. “Do you think the werewolf followed us?”
“No, that bastard didn’t follow us today, I’m sure of it. No, I’m afraid this is worse.”
The clittering claws grew closer and I raised the shotgun’s stock to my shoulder. “What the hell is worse than a werewolf?”
A large black furry animal slid into view down
