The finders compass, p.1
The Finder's Compass, page 1
The Finder’s Compass
Ghost Bullets, Book 4
Gareth Lewis
Copyright 2023 Gareth Lewis
License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should purchase your own copy. Any piracy of this work shall result in the forfeiture of the pirate's soul to the author. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
AI was used to produce the cover of this book, but not the story. That’s purely the product of NS (Natural Stupidity).
Language Note
This novel is written in British English, so contains spelling differences from American English.
Chapter 1
On her knees, staring at shit, was pretty much how Penny Hitch had seen herself dying. If not so literally. The inevitability of it was more frustrating than scary.
Maybe it wasn’t shit shit. Or maybe it was. These were sewers. Or sewer-adjacent. A wide space, with grimy stone walls, a wide channel of unspecified liquid flowing in front of her, and metal walkways slick with something she’d sooner not think about.
The water treatment plant wasn’t far away. Maybe this was the wash-off from some sewage treatment part. To be fair, the water might not be the source of the smell. A smell she’d sooner wasn’t the last thing in her nose when she died. She hoped she was dead before she went in the water.
Given how Callum Moloney waved his small blade near her face, a quick death seemed optimistic. As was a clean one, by any definition.
The idiot liked his knives. He claimed it avoided bullets being traced to a particular gun. Knives were cheaper, so he’d simply discard them after use. She was sure it was more of a style thing for him though.
His light blond hair wasn’t a good mix with the receding hairline. In certain lights it vanished, and he got upset when you pointed it out.
‘Nothing to say?’ he asked. That irritating grin said he thought he had the better of her. The irritating part was he did. ‘Usually we can’t get you to shut up. Not scared, are you?’
‘Some of us aren’t used to the smell,’ said Penny. There was little fear in her voice, contempt crowding out what little she felt. ‘I mean your aftershave, in case that wasn’t clear.’
He grinned, unusually willing to let her have a few jabs. ‘That’s more like it. That’s more like the Penny I’m happy to finally deal with.’ He glanced at his backing group.
Matty paced back and forth, with a grin and a nervous laugh. His Smith and Wesson bounced casually against his leg. He wore a cheap suit - that may be improved by being down here - and a cheaper t-shirt, of the type usually seen on a fourteen-year-old girl with questionable taste in music. He was an idiot, but trigger-happy enough to make people reluctant to point it out.
Burns stood near the entrance they’d come in, taking care not to touch anything. Blocky, with no discernible neck, he had the texture and charisma of the wall out back of the Turn club - although it wouldn’t be advisable to try pissing against him unless you really wanted to be legless.
‘Can we just kill her already?’ asked Burns. He sounded bored. Even had their antics been more entertaining, he’d never displayed much in the way of a sense of humour. He was the kill them and move on type.
‘Mr. Venture wants her to suffer,’ said Callum.
‘Hence the aftershave,’ said Penny. ‘And the conversation.’
‘You just don’t stop, do you?’ said Callum.
‘I will at some point. Isn’t that’s why we’re here?’
The grin became more strained. ‘If you were to at least apologise, then maybe it wouldn’t have to be as bad as it could be. I’ll make it quick.’
‘I’ve heard that you say that to all the girls, as a warning,’ said Penny.
Callum glared.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘Am I not being scared enough of you? Do you need someone to whimper before you can get hard enough to stick them? Because I’m not here to get you off.’
He gave a forced laugh. ‘You just keep up the bravado, right to the end. I can respect that. It means it’ll be a painful end though. Could take a while.’
‘That’s not what Amy says,’ said Penny, grinning at him. She wasn’t too sure whether she was playing for time and hoping something would appear, or doing what damage she could before he killed her. But she’d have what fun she could before it was over.
‘Don’t mention my girl.’ Callum’s grin vanished. He turned a glare on Matty, who quickly stopped sniggering.
‘Hey, sorry,’ said Penny. ‘It’s just pillow-talk. She gets chatty after being satisfied. Though I understand you might not know that side of her.’
‘Just stop whatever you think this is.’ He was getting angry. ‘I know you’re lying. Amy ain’t one of your filthy deviants.’
‘Whoa,’ said Matty. ‘What’s that?’
Callum turned to glare at him. ‘What?’
‘My sister likes girls. Nothing wrong with it, and no need to go using language like that.’
‘Are you serious?’ asked Callum.
‘It was a bit intolerant,’ said Burns.
‘And you care if I hurt this bitch’s feelings?’
‘I’m just saying,’ said Burns. ‘It’s unnecessary. That kind of language makes society a more alienating place.’
Callum rubbed a hand over his face. ‘Unbelievable. Okay, fine. I’m just going to stab her so we can get out of here, because the fumes are obviously getting to you two.’
That might be her last bit of fun for her life then. She could try going for the knife, but it’d be a struggle. And the other two had guns, and enough distance that she’d be unlikely to achieve anything. Except perhaps cutting Callum. That’d be something. It wasn’t as though she had anything to lose, and a bullet might be faster.
She looked down at the murky water again, focussing on Callum’s reflection as he approached. She tensed, ready to move.
Then a shape drifted by, just below the surface. Was that a gun?
Never one to think much before acting, and with Callum almost upon her, Penny grabbed for the shape as she turned towards him.
She grabbed for the hand with the knife, to hold it off. Slammed the shape she’d grabbed at his head. It knocked him back a few steps, made him drop the knife.
It turned out it was a gun. Though having been in the water it may not work - and she tried not to think of the grimy sheen that made it slick. Not risking her slight chance of survival on it working, she charged Matty as she took aim and fired.
His gun rose towards her after a moment’s shocked hesitation, too fast for her to reach him.
The echo that crashed over them said her gun still worked. Matty fell back before he could return fire.
She couldn’t afford the luxury of shock. Burns had already drawn his Glock, and fired in her direction. It missed. She skidded to a stop, and fired before he could take proper aim.
More thunderous echoes shattered around them in a dizzying cacophony, but he was the one to fall.
Penny spun towards Callum. Spotted him darting out of sight.
Should she follow and finish him? He might have a gun, and already be lying in wait.
What was the point? Venture was her problem. Callum may be his top thug, but there were plenty more ready to take his place. And they may actually be smart. Not likely, but possible.
She headed in the other direction. There must be a way out somewhere. Then she’d find a place to lay low and think. And a change of clothes. Possibly not in that order.
A couple of doorways and a staircase later she found herself in a corridor leading to sunlight. From what she could make out, it seemed to lead to one of those overflow outlets on the side of the river. There was a walkway just above it she should be able to clamber up to, and while public, the place seldom had many pedestrians.
It should be safe. Provided she didn’t get caught holding a piece that had at least a couple of bodies on it. She hadn’t taken time to check they were dead, but they hadn’t shot her in the back.
She wiped the piece down with the edge of her shirt - which would need burning - and held it gingerly by her fingertips. Retreating a few steps, she chucked it down into the darkness below the stairs.
It plopped, returning to the flow she’d snagged it from. It could carry on its way, lighter a by few bullets.
She turned back to the light, the bodies behind forgotten as her mind fixed on the problems still ahead.
Chapter 2
The Finder idly stroked the Compass, as his mind focussed on the signal from the Gun.
‘It’s still moving in the same direction,’ he said in a vague voice. ‘Around a mile now.’
The pair of armoured guards sitting in the back of the van with him said nothing. They’d already reported to the rest of the team that it was moving on, but they were still investigating the area where it’d been delayed. Possibly it’s simply snagged on something, and there’d be nothing to see.
But that wasn’t his concern. They all had their jobs to do.
Did he know the names of the pair still with him? If he did, they didn’t come to mind. It hardly mattered. The artifacts were all.
He was the guardian of the Compass. They were here to protect him and the C ompass. Mainly the Compass, obviously. And that was fine. Though if he was dead, the Compass could be in trouble, so it was better that he remained alive to protect it.
But there was also another artifact at large, and recovering it should be a priority. So why were they taking so long?
Perhaps their surroundings were hard to navigate. He had no idea where they were - though obliviousness to his surroundings was hardly unusual these days.
He knew who he was. Who he’d been. That was more than some artifact wielders retained. It was everyone around him, and his location, that could be vague if he didn’t concentrate. And right now, his concentration was demanded by the Gun. The Anima Legere.
The things to which the Compass had been attuned were always in his mind. Pulsing presences, no matter how far away, or what came between them. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine them as lights in his own private constellation.
They burned that much brighter when he focussed of one, as it shone out, calling him. It gave him an idea of their distance, and an unerring sense of direction. He was the one who watched over them, who hunted them down when they were lost.
They’d warned him that egocentricity could be a danger. It was important to remember his place. His role was important, but not as important as the artifacts. They were all that truly mattered. The artifacts had been here since long before his time, and would be around long after him. The Finder’s job, his calling, was to ensure they remained in safe hands. That their custodianship remained with those who understood them.
Of course much of his service didn’t require him doing anything other than staying safe. Artifacts seldom went missing, so on the rare occasions they did he would feel the excitement, and over-eagerness could also be a problem. Also impatience, however sure he was that the security team were doing their job.
They knew how important this was.
They did, didn’t they? Or were they the outer ranks of Euclideans? Those employed to serve, but with only a limited understanding of what it was all in aid of. It hardly mattered, unless he was engaging them in conversation, which he wouldn’t.
His mind might be drifting. He still had a firm fix on the Gun, but it wasn’t enough to fully occupy his thoughts. So much of his duties were so boring that the excitement threw his mind into overdrive. And then he had to sit about waiting.
He should try the meditative techniques they’d taught him. But any clarity of mind he attained still had the presences lighting up his mind, and they were so distracting.
The van doors opened, almost making him jump. The rest of the team climbed in, as one of them spoke over their comm gear. Why didn’t he have comm gear?
‘Confirmed, sir,’ said the man, all soldiery. ‘Two bodies, no signs of cause of death, but they were recent. It looks like the Gun was used.’
Someone had used the Gun? That wasn’t good. It meant a ticking clock to find and secure it, and they’d have no idea how long until the alarm went off. Not that it’d be a major problem if the Gun went to the new user. He wouldn’t lose the signal. It’d just mean more chasing it around, which risked unwanted public attention.
‘I left a man guarding the bodies,’ said the soldier. ‘Request immediate collection, and a box dispatched to us for isolating the Gun.’
The other end of the conversation was hidden from those not permitted to communicate directly with anyone outside the van, but he couldn’t imagine any requests being denied in the circumstances. This was too important.
The soldier looked at him. ‘Still west?’
The Finder pointed in the direction of the signal.
‘Confirmed,’ said the man.
The van pulled off, fast but not speeding enough to draw attention. They’d stick to the speed limits. Do nothing to risk being pulled over, with him potentially forced out of the van in an exposed space. His predecessor had been killed by a sniper, while surrounded by armed men. There were those out there who didn’t respect the artifacts, from whom the artifacts needed to be protected. He’d sooner not die to protect them. He was of more use alive. But the artifacts were the important things.
For now, they had their path. Both in an immediate sense, and a more spiritual one. They were guided by the fragment of the eternal in his hands. He had faith it would lead them where they needed to be. He had to believe that.
He’d given himself over to it, devoted his life to the cause. He was the guardian of the Compass, and its servant. An avatar of its will, and it wanted the artifacts restored to the hands of the worthy.
That was his holy calling.
Chapter 3
The report was hardly the worst Karla Yuen had received today, but it was another complication that they didn’t need just now. After dispatching the necessary resources, she ascended the stairs of the taskforce building towards Amanda’s office.
She hadn’t come out since they’d gotten back, and Karla hadn’t pressured her. Despite the mask she insisted on wearing, the abduction couldn’t have been pleasant. There’d be some trauma to deal with, if that’d been all. Then Peter had been killed.
Karla hadn’t thought they were that close. It’d seemed casual. Perhaps it was just the shock, on top of everything else she’d suffered. It might pass.
She knocked on the door, and waited for a muttered response that might have been an invitation to enter. Given the news, Amanda needed to be informed.
She sat in her chair, staring out the window. ‘What?’ she asked without turning.
‘The search team has reported in,’ said Karla. She maintained a professional tone, sticking with work formality. ‘They’ve found two bodies that appear to have been killed by the Ghost Gun.’
Amanda nodded, as though having expected it. ‘It’s found a new host to play with.’ That would make holding on to it harder, and they’d need to know who it was now bonded to.
‘The Finder says it’s moving again. Back along the original path. They might have chucked it after using.’
‘Not wasting any time. You’re following up on them?’
Karla nodded, which was wasted with Amanda not looking at her. She seemed determined not to do so. She hadn’t met her gaze since Karla had dragged her out of the firefight, except for the glare that seemed to blame her for not letting Amanda go to Peter’s side. That would have been stupid, and pointless. He’d been dead by the time he fell, and the scene had been dangerous. It was Karla’s job to keep her safe. Perhaps not her official priority, but she considered it her primary duty. Artifacts could be recovered, lives couldn’t.
If Amanda blamed her for doing her job, it was because she was alive to do so.
‘I’m having the bodies collected,’ said Karla. ‘We’ll perform a proper examination before burning, and hopefully identify them.’ Burning would be necessary if they’d been exposed to an artifact. And given the location, and the brief description, it sounded like some kind of a hit. They were criminals, so anyone who missed them should have expected this kind of end. ‘Should I forward the information to the Detective to follow up?’
‘Detective Kinsala will no longer be working with us,’ said Amanda. Nothing in her voice to imply any feelings about that. ‘Contact Agent Nugent to help. And Captain Foster, should you require local knowledge.’
‘Ma’am,’ said Karla. They could probably handle what’d be necessary to help with the search. But what did this mean for Cassie? Euclidean were hardly laisse faire about letting those who knew stuff out of their control.
‘Secure the Gun first, then identify the shooter,’ said Amanda. Her voice gained certainty as the practicalities of organisation offered her a distraction. She’d be running through the contingencies and ways things could go wrong. ‘The chances are they’re ignorant as to what they’ve gotten themselves involved in, but we can’t rely on that state of ignorance lasting. I’m not worried about them ranting about ghosts, provided the Gun is secure. It’ll just make them easier to find. But we’ll have time to deal with the problem once the Gun is secure.’
The main problem was her political situation, which was vital to Euclidean interests as far as Karla was concerned.
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