Dead to Me

29

I didn’t go home that night, but sat at the diner, milking free refills of coffee until the owner threw me out. The sun had been up for an hour, and I walked the streets of the Lower East Side, watching the city slowly coming to life. I couldn’t face going home if Irene’s spirit was still trashing the place, and I wasn’t in any shape to head back to the Department, so I let fate be my guide as I wandered, nervously looking over my shoulder for any signs of being followed the whole time. I spent hours thinking about the case and how I could help Irene, but that in turn only led to wondering about Jane. I had walked out on her, and God only knew if she was okay. I was failing everyone right now, and I decided I had to do something to change all that, starting by dealing with Jane. I returned to the last hotel I had moved Jane into, hoping she was still staying there. I also prayed that my abandoning her on the street hadn’t caused her to revert to evil just yet.

When Jane opened the door to her room and saw me standing there, she left it open and walked back into the room without waiting.

“Look at me,” she said sarcastically. “Not dead yet…survived a whole night by myself!”

Evil I could handle with the retractable bat hanging from my belt. Sarcasm took a gentler hand than that.

“Jane, please…” I said.

“Please what?” she said. “I think I’m in pretty good spirits, all things considered. Do you walk out on all your cases like that, or just me?”

My gentle approach flew out the window, and I couldn’t help but feel a little incredulous.

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Jane,” I said. “You seem like a good person here, but you’re not giving me a whole lot of faith in that. You want my help, right? You seem to want me to blindly trust you, but then I find out you’re holding information out on me…”

“What’s it going to take to get you on my side?” she said. “The Sectarians, my own people, want me dead, and that’s not good enough?”

“It’s not just me,” I said. “Eventually my Department’s going to figure out that I’m helping you, hiding you. It’s just a matter of time and what I’d love out of you is some…I don’t know…grandiose gesture that’s going to put you in good not only with me but with them as well.”

I knew I was being manipulative—partly because I needed answers about Tamara and Irene, but also on a personal level. I liked Jane more that I felt was right, and I would love to feel like it was justified.

Jane fell quiet so I pressed on. I needed something that could help me gain the upper hand in our fight against Bane and the corporate headhunter he had sent after her.

“Give me something, Jane,” I said. “Help out an underpaid psychometrist with bills to pay. Prove you’re on my side. I need a break if I’m going to help you or make any headway on the case I’m working on. Didn’t you tell me that the Sectarians were obsessive about their record keeping? Get me inside the Sectarian Defense League.”

Jane looked at me like I was crazy. “You want me to go back there?” she said. She looked like she was going to argue, but she stopped herself. “Fine. If that’s what it’s going to take. I can probably find something on that fish you asked about in my old records.”

“I don’t think they’re going to let us just walk right in, Jane,” I said.

“You don’t have some brilliant plan?” she said, smiling for once.

“No,” I said, “but clearly you do. Why don’t you tell me what your plan is?”

“We’ll need to get past building security first, so we’ll wear all brown,” she suggested, perking up. “Jumpsuits maybe. With matching baseball caps.”

The twinkle in her eye made Jane look like she was Wile E. Coyote, Supergenius, hard at work at the drawing board. “Or blue. Doesn’t matter.”

I looked at her skeptically. “And this will help how…?”

“Delivery people,” she said. “Does anyone really pay attention to delivery people? No. It’s always someone dressed in a jumpsuit or some kind of generic-looking outfit. You never remember the person. All you see is a blur of ho-hum colors and a hat.”

Jane was right. I couldn’t remember what any delivery guy I had ever encountered looked like.

“Won’t they route us to a mailroom or something?” I asked.

Jane shook her head.

“No,” she said. “One of the great things about being cultists is that trust is always an issue with them. They route everything straight through to their office. They’re so not going to risk the chance of the Mask of Yojeeti or the Basket of Sepiroth going missing at the hands of a mailroom clerk. As if!”

Several hours (and one trip to K-Mart) later, we breezed past check-in at the Fifth Avenue entrance to the Empire State Building. Security barely gave us a glance as we signed the building register. My bat was hidden discreetly in a flower delivery box, underneath an all-too-pricy cover of roses. I fully intended to give them to Jane if we made it out alive. I also intended to expense them.

We made our way up to the thirty-third floor. It was after normal business hours, but to be safe, Jane kept the brim of her hat pulled down low in case we ran into anyone she knew. Luck, however, was on our side, and we arrived at the door without a single run-in.

“Most girls get dinner and a movie,” Jane said as we stood outside the now familiar glass doors of the Sectarian Defense League. “I get breaking and entering.”

I adjusted my gloves as I looked at the dripping red letters on the door and then at Jane.

“Complain much?” I said.

Jane smiled sweetly and shook her head. Her blond ponytail bounced from side to side, and for a second I did feel like we were out on a date instead of hell-bent on infiltrating her old workplace. I eyed the keypad at the side of the double doors.

“What are the chances that your old pass code still works?” I said.

I had come prepared to try my hand at lock picking, but an electronic lock was beyond my abilities. I supposed there was always the bat, though that might not be the subtlest entrance.

“Worth a shot.” Jane shrugged and punched her old number in. The red lights turned to green and the unit chirped a happy signal of approval. I gave her delivery hat a playful push down onto her head and she giggled. Connor would never have let me do that to him.

However, Connor would kill me if he knew what Jane and I were up to, but hopefully it wouldn’t matter if the two of us actually succeeded.

I pushed at the door and it gave way. “That was easy enough. Makes me a bit nervous, though.”

“Getting past the door really wasn’t my concern, Simon. It’s what might be on the other side of it that worries me.”

We moved quietly through the door and into the darkened lobby of the Sectarian Defense League. I hoped my eyes would adjust quickly to the half-light. As I edged forward, I was relieved to see that the room was silent and there was no hint of motion. I felt Jane’s arm press against mine, and though for a second I thought she was trying to take my hand, I realized quickly that she was trying to stop me.

“Wait,” she said with a squeeze. “Look.”

I came to a halt in the middle of the lobby, and as my eyes finally grew accustomed to the darkness, I realized we weren’t alone. The desks around the outer rim of the reception area were filled with dark figures. I slowly crept forward to examine one, and was relieved to see that they did not react to my presence.

Zombies. After work hours, they were almost motionless as they clacked softly away at the keyboards before them, no longer working at the pace I had seen them filing and typing on my first visit here. It made perfect sense that they were still here. At the end of the workday, where did these corporate zombies have to go, really? They didn’t have homes, and without a single working brain among them, they would sit there silently until their masters returned in the morning. Their faces reminded me of so many I saw among the commuters here in New York—lifeless and slack-jawed. Even though I’d been known to take my bat to rotting zombie flesh from time to time, I felt sorry for the restless souls that remained trapped in these rotting corpses. I reminded myself to talk to Davidson about zombie rights if Jane and I made it out of here alive.

I moved back to Jane.

“Won’t they start craving the taste of our yummy, yummy human flesh?” I whispered.

Jane covered her mouth to stifle a laugh. When she regained her composure, she said, “I’m pretty sure they’ve been fed for the evening. Last thing Mr. Bane wants is for them to start wandering the building in search of…snacks.”

I shuddered at the thought. I wondered what exactly they had been fed earlier, but Jane cut me off before I could ask.

“Relax, Simon. They don’t normally feed them on human flesh anyway. The building would be empty in a week! It’s mostly cow brains and entrails. They also seem partial to hot dogs from street vendors.”

“Well, that’s of some comfort,” I said.

“Besides, human flesh is an occasional treat…like catnip for cats,” she said with a wink.

I wasn’t sure if she was pulling my leg or not, but now was not the time for a lengthy discussion of the culinary habits of the undead. I pushed it all out of my mind and smiled. “Lead on, milady.”

I kept close behind as Jane led, none too curious about what might happen if I should stray. We made our way out of reception and down a short hall that opened into a large bullpen. I was relieved to see that there were only two zombies in sight. Jane stopped at a door bearing her name and swiped a card at it. It clicked open and we stole inside quickly, shutting the door behind us.

She flicked the overhead light on and I stood there momentarily in awe. Her office was huge. It was littered with ultramodern Norwegian furniture that was so nice it made me want to burn down the next Ikea I saw. It sure beat the shitty secondhand desk I had been assigned back at the D.E.A. Jane’s hand brushed against my cheek and I mistook it for affection until I felt her lift my jaw back into place.

“Look,” she said. “I’m sorry that evil pays better. Isn’t that part of its appeal, after all?”

She turned away and went straight to work searching her old desk and pulling out anything personal she came across. She laid a framed picture of some very corn-fed-looking parents of the Kansas variety on top of the pile.

“Do your parents know?” I asked. “About you working here…”

She pulled out a sheaf of papers and began sorting through them. “No, and they never will. They think I’m working for an animal rights group.”

“I suppose you could spin it that way. Some sort of ‘Save the Zombies’ angle…”

“Fudge!” she said, throwing down the papers. “It’s not here.”

“What isn’t?”

“The manifest on item one-six-eight,” she said as if I knew what the hell she was talking about.

I looked at her with the kind of blank stare usually reserved for the zombies themselves.

“Better known to you as ‘that wooden fish thingie’? I should have all the details here on where it’s being stored, but they’re missing.”

“Keep looking,” I said. I placed my flower box on her desk to help out with the search.

Since it was Jane’s office, I really didn’t know exactly what she was looking for. I left her to go through the rest of her drawers while I packed her personal effects into my bag. Jane had made the choice never to return here after this, so whatever I could do to help her get out of here quicker, I would.

Her desk was cluttered with stuff. Pictures, a squishy little stress-management toy, a collection of breakfast cereal action figures. The Trix Rabbit, Count Chocula, Booberry, the Lucky Charms leprechaun, even the Cookie Crisp bandit! I was in love. Good thing I was wearing the gloves or the nostalgia of all these items might have put my powers into overload, leaving me flopping on the floor like a fish.

A small collection of plants occupied one corner of the desk, but they would have to stay behind.

I hadn’t told Jane why I was looking for information on the fish or that it had been Irene’s. All she knew was what she had seen the first time I came into the League swinging my bat. Just because her days with the Sectarians seemed over didn’t mean she was getting full disclosure about my assignments at Other Division.

If Jane chose to be taken into the fold of the Department later, which I hoped she would, she might find out everything concerning my mission to reacquire the fish so we could discern what happened to Irene’s soul. For now I was quite content to keep it a mystery. My dealings with my favorite ghost girl were complex enough as they stood. My department’s line of “on a need to know” basis came in handy once in a while, and just then it was helping to alleviate some of the guilt I felt for keeping Jane in the dark.

She checked the same drawer she had just taken the papers from again. “It should be here!”

“Looking for this?” said a familiar European voice from behind us.

I spun around. Faisal Bane was standing in the middle of the room, smugly holding up the missing manifest—the one that listed the wooden fish. Behind him, a section of the wall that had been there a moment ago had now slid back to reveal a hidden alcove. Tricky! “Or perhaps you’re looking for your Hello Kitty coffee mug?”

He produced said object in his other hand, examined it slowly, then threw it as hard as he could toward the opposite wall. It smashed against a picture of the Manhattan skyline and shattered, pieces of mug and picture frame showering the carpet. Jane gasped.

“No! Kitty!”

I grabbed the box of flowers, and pulled the bat free from it, sending flowers flying in every direction. Another figure stepped from the darkness behind Faisal and into the light. My stomach sank as I recognized the man’s face. I had seen it every day back at the Department of Extraordinary Affairs. It was Thaddeus Wesker. The Inspectre had confided that Wesker was an undercover agent here, but right now he looked every bit on the side of evil.

“Un-uh,” the Director of Greater & Lesser Arcana said. He flicked his arm in my direction and I felt the bat pull free from my hands. It twirled end over end toward Wesker and he plucked it from the air.

“How did you do that?”

“Hello to you, too, Simon,” Wesker said. “I am the head of Greater and Lesser Arcana, after all, or did you forget?” He turned to Faisal with a grin on his face. “I told you if we waited they’d eventually come sniffing around for it.”

Faisal turned his head. “Is this the one you mentioned?”

“Yes,” Wesker sneered. “He’s one of their precious little Other Division.”

“So young!” Faisal said as he looked me over. “Apparently, they’re desperate to replenish their fading numbers, eh?”

It was bad enough that Bane was here, but now there was Wesker to contend with, too. Maybe this had been a setup. Maybe Jane was in on it, too, playing me all this time while secretly helping the Sectarians…

“Leave him alone,” Jane said and surprised me by moving between me and the two of them.

Bane waved her away with a dismissive gesture. “Save your theatrics, Jane, and put aside any misguided thoughts of heroics, would you?”

Despite the growing fear in my chest, my male ego went “Doh!” I should have been the one to step forward. Stupid gestures were my bailiwick, not hers.

“Bully,” I heard her mutter. Fast as a shot, Faisal closed the distance to her and drove his fist into her gut. Jane crumpled to the floor without a sound. There went the idea that she was secretly on their side.

“I don’t let my subordinates talk to me like that,” he said as he stared down at her, “and I certainly won’t let a traitorous whore like you either.”

Wesker moved to stand by Faisal’s side, but his attention was all on me. I glared at him and said, “I see only one traitor here and that’s Wesker.”

Faisal continued to ignore me, but Wesker took a step in my direction, my bat held over his shoulder loosely in one hand. “Well, Mr. Bane, what do you recommend I do with him?”

Faisal grinned as he turned, his eyes menacing me. “Well, he did bring his own bat. Cave his skull in with it.”