*
Before they went into the park proper, Johnson gave them their final briefing.
“Remember, you can pass through the Paliakis fields with no trouble. The boundaries are all clearly marked. The exhibits cannot pass through the fields, so if you don’t want to get close, stay outside the marked areas and they cannot approach you. The fields attract them, so even if you remain on the paths, you should catch glimpses of them from time to time. But for a more authentic experience, you can enter the buildings, forests, mines, and so on, and watch them in their natural environment. Please don’t attempt to touch, feed, or speak to the specimens. We are still researching how they react to interactions with the living, but for now we ask that you please observe our rules.”
Lila found the changes a little disorientating, but could still recognise the paths she had wandered as a child. That over there had been the brown bears. That had been the sea lions. Did they have aquatic ghosts? People who had died by drowning, maybe? The underwater viewing area looked to have been transformed into caves and mines—plenty of dead miners and potholers, evidently. She mapped the area in her mind. The tigers had been across the main thoroughfare from the savannah area where Johnson had said the castle and manor house were now located. If she’d got the layout right, he was going to lead her pretty much where she needed to be.
The dribble of ducklings wound their way around a menacing-looking forest. In a spot where several paths met, which Lila vaguely remembered had held an ice-cream stall, a double red line showed where Paliakis fields enclosed a circle about three metres across. In the centre of the circle stood a gallows. They all slowed as they registered what it was, then stopped to watch the rope swaying gently, although there was no breeze. A shiver ran down Lila’s back.
Wonder if the rope always swings. Whatever, that’s creepy as heck.
Zebra Woman had paled again, and Lila began to wonder what the hell she was doing there. Fear of ghosts: don’t go near the spook zoo. Comprende?
“Is the—” Zebra’s voice cracked, and she swallowed, tried again. “Is the…ghost— Is it in there?”
Johnson grinned. “Three ghosts, my dear. Three. All hanged, and all protested their innocence until the bitter end. Marvellous, isn’t it? We can stay here and see if one of them shows up, if you’d like?”
Zebra shuddered. “Can we just go?”
Some of the others looked like they would prefer to stay and see if they could watch a hanging, and might have done so, had a release not been in the offing. Up along the cemetery they went, with its suitably macabre mausoleum garnering fascinated glances from Urijah. He’d be in there like a shot.
Johnson stopped by the double red lines that delineated the manor house exhibit.
“I’d like to invite you all in to observe the release of this specimen. Since some of you,” Lila could have sworn he gave Zebra a sharp look, “may not be keen to cross into the compound itself, I shall conduct the release near the boundary. If this release follows the same pattern as previous ones, the spirit will investigate the fence nearby and then proceed to the rest of the enclosure. If you wish to follow it, you may, since I intend to make this the point at which I leave you to explore for yourselves. There will be staff nearby at all times, should you have any further questions.”
“Just one more thing,” Edward the historian chimed in. “You say we can cross the barrier, but will we feel anything?”
Will it hurt, you mean.
“Some people report a tingling of the skin. A very few feel slightly faint on first crossing the field, but that fades in a few seconds. To be honest, I’ve always put that one down to nerves, myself. If you’d like to follow me.”
Johnson stepped smartly over the two red lines and stood beaming on the other side.
“See. Nothing to it.” He waited for those who were going to cross to follow him, then took the container in both hands. “This is how it opens. It’s designed so it can’t be opened by accident. Fingers placed just so, push the tabs in and—” He twisted the top of the container and it split roughly two-thirds of the way up. “There. Do you see it?”
A faint, white blur skittered from the container, towards the two red lines, bumping along the periphery of the enclosure like a fish trying to swim through the glass of an aquarium.
A young man leapt forward. Toby, Lila thought his name was. He’d talked in the queue, but without really sharing much about himself beyond his name. She’d never got a feel for why he wanted to be here so badly.
He drew a crucifix from beneath his t-shirt, and brandished it in the direction of the blur, which had resolved into the figure of a young woman dressed all in white.
“Go into the light, daughter,” he said, his voice taking on the resonance of the pulpit. “It is not right that you should be captive here for the entertainment of others. Go towards the light, and meet your redeemer.”
You should really feel old when the priests started looking young. Or the evangelists, whatever he was. Something pretty damn religious, anyway.
A siren wailed.
Lila dragged her gaze from Toby, standing by the ghost, arms raised as if to bless her, and towards Johnson. He held a small electronic device in his hands. A tiny light on one end flashed red. Seconds later security guards arrived, pinning Toby’s arms to his sides.
The white lady faded, but whether she had chosen to make herself invisible, or whether she had indeed passed over for good, Lila had no way of knowing.
“Please drop the cross, young man,” Johnson said mildly. Lila noticed that to draw the device he had needed to toss one end of the container to the ground, where it nestled in the grass. “We won’t harm you, but I need you to put the cross down.”
He addressed the guards. “Take him to my office. Make sure he has no other religious paraphernalia on him—holy water, incense, anything of that sort. Oh, and stop by marketing, and tell them that religious objects need to be added to the list of things guests are not allowed to bring into the park. I told them we should do a background check before we let people in, but no. ‘Too intrusive’ they said. ‘People won’t go along with it’, they said. If he’s cost us a prime specimen, I’ll see him in court for it.”
Lila’s throat tightened. They were very close to her father. What range did an exorcism have? Was that even an exorcism, or just an attempt at one by a deluded dreamer? Were his ministrations only directed at that one ghost he could see, or could all within a certain area have been affected and shuttled off into the ‘light’? One interfering idiot could have ruined all her plans.
On the other hand…
She stooped to pick up the piece of the container, turning it thoughtfully in her hands. When she looked up, Johnson was watching her, a frown creasing his forehead.
“Can I have it?” The words burst from Lila’s lips. “As a souvenir, I mean.”
The frown on Johnson’s face deepened.
“I wouldn’t sell it or anything. I’ll sign something to that effect if you want me to. Only I’m—” She grasped for a good reason to keep the capsule. “I’m a journalist, and your people said we couldn’t take any pictures in here. If I can put up shots of the container, of me holding it, at least that would be something.” She gave Johnson what she hoped was her most endearing smile.
“The design of the containers is secret. None go beyond this park, unless to retrieve a specimen and bring it back here.”
“I understand that. I can send it back once I’ve done my article. I wouldn’t try to break it open or find out how it worked or anything.” Swallowing hard, she ramped the smile up another notch, forced her eyes to moisten. She could easily have puked right there on the grass. If there was one thing she’d never done in her life it was turn on the cutesy, wide-eyed act, and here she was, using it like a pro. Still, needs must.
“Miss, ah…”
“Muchamore. Lila Muchamore.” She watched Johnson’s face, wondering if the unusual surname would trigger a reaction. Not a fli
cker. Thank goodness for that. “Mr Johnson, it would mean the world for my career. I’m already intending to give you a good write-up.”
“Well, I—“
“—and I assume you’d not want any mention to reach the outside of the security breach we just witnessed.”
When negotiation doesn’t work, send in the artillery. That incident with Toby would be an embarrassment to Johnson if word got out. Could stir up another hornets’ nest with the church, too.
Johnson nodded curtly, lips pressed into a line as fine as his pinstripes, and handed over the top half of the container. “Sent straight back. No tampering.”
Her smile was genuine. “Thank you so much.”
Here’s your ride home, Dad. Sorry it isn’t more comfortable, but dead men can’t be too picky.