Dave woke up and instantly knew he had never known such soreness before. Ribs, shoulder, hips, arms... he was a complete mess of bruises.

The TV was on. Dave forced himself slowly into a sitting position, painful though it was. It was at least better than it had been last night... that was torture. Dave screwed up his face thinking about it.

A glance over at the TV showed what appeared to be a news report... about a violent break-in that had taken place in peaceful Maple Valley, at the home of one Veronica Serket. Apparently some psychomaniac had broken in, when the girl's single mother was away on a business trip, with guns and knives or something, and had mutilated the girl and ripped up the house before... calling 911 for her and escaping? Police thought the caller was someone else, but they couldn't match the voice on the records anywhere. That's because Bro and Dave weren't on the records. Because they weren't known criminals.

Keyword, known.

Veronica was okay- she was in the hospital, and she had lost the eye and the arm was going to have a lot of scars, but she would live and be able to return to her normal life. Just not drive, ever. Probably. Because with the right eye gone, she would lose her depth perception.

The camera view on the TV changed from a view of Veronica Serket's house to a lady in a news studio, and then more live footage. There was a painted white house in the background with a green lawn, and a blue sedan in the driveway. They were interviewing one sleepy, pajama-clad John Egbert. The name scrolled along the bottom of the red ribbon as John told them what he knew about the case- he had been texting Veronica, and then she just stopped, and he couldn't sleep because that wasn't like her to just go away like that...

The police seemed unsatisfied by this, but they didn't seem to think that John was a murderer. Which he wasn't.

Although he did use a spare shotgun to blast the ghost girl's head in last night, Dave recalled. That much was interesting...

The TV switched back again, and the news report wrapped up with "Ongoing investigations" being the conclusion, and a promise to return to the story if it developed further.

Bro's head appeared out of nowhere. Dave almost jumped, then glanced down- Bro was holding out his shades, which had been scratched up the night before. Most of the scratches had been repaired with clear nail polish, except one deep score that wouldn't be fixed that easily on the left lense. Dave shrugged- that was lucky, at least they weren't broken. He accepted the glasses and slipped them on. "Thanks. What are you going to do about the ghost?"

Bro frowned. "The kid told us that Veronica saw it in the woods behind her house the day before it attacked her. If it's haunting the area, it probably has something that it's guarding- a skeleton, maybe." Bro circled around his bed and picked up his nondescript hunting bag. He lifted Dave's laptop off the table and tossed it onto his bed, plugging it into the wall for him. "In case I look around and can't find this bitch's bones, you're gonna tell me where she really is."

"But-"

"No. You're staying here. Got it?"

"Yeah," Dave muttered dejectedly. He heard Bro's footsteps, and then the door closed behind his brother, and he heard the Camero start up and pull away from the building. With a sigh, Dave grabbed the computer and flipped open the lid. Time to try and find that ghost girl...

Finding who ghosts used to be is really quite difficult, Dave reflected, as he trawled through older and older death records. It was an hour or so before he found a likely case- a double suicide. A girl's mother had killed herself to escape her vicious, abusive husband, who then turned to his daughter to be the outlet of his fury. Frightened of him, estranged by her peers, and bullied by teachers and students alike at schools, she had laid herself out on the train track and waited.

Dave winced. That was rough.

She had been found after the accident, which had nearly derailed the train, and what was left of her was buried in an old graveyard- now abandoned, disused, overgrown. Dave GoogleMap-ped it and, not so surprisingly, found that the old graveyard was located in the small forest behind the house of Veronica Serket.

He called Bro. "You're gonna have to do some digging," he stated flatly. "The girl- Ariana Megido, it says. Italian, abusive American father, depressive Italian mother who jumped off a building. Ariana herself took a nap on a train track after that because of bullying."

"Yikes," Bro responded.

"No kidding." Dave sighed. "The graveyard- it's disused at this point- should be located behind Veronica's house."

"Well, that was unexpected."

"I know. It should be pretty far from the creek, so check on her property way in the back. You can follow the creek back to... I think there's a fence, that's what that line is- and then follow the fence up."

"Sure thing." Bro hung up.

"Be careful," Dave said belatedly, but when he took the phone away from his ear, he realized nobody was listening.

Sigh. Bro rarely listened to his concerns- and rightly so, Bro was the best hunter Dave knew. Still, they probably weren't spectacular. They did almost get beat by that ghost last night... if she was guarding her grave, Bro might have some troubles.

His phone made a single elongated buzzing noise, sounding like a vibrating whistle on speed. He snagged it off the bedside table with some difficulty and unlocked the screen.

It was a message from John. Dave recognized the number, although he hadn't bothered to save the number in his contacts. Those were usually reserved for other hunters, whom he saved by alternate names anyways. The message read:

FROM: (509)486-3402

hey dave. it's john. if you didn't see
the tv, veronica is ok. she's in the
hospital though... and a lot of people
think that it was some crazy person
who snuck in and hurt her. If there's
video or something they're gonna
think it was you guys! you should be
careful.
11:13AM, May 29

Dave sighed. Yes, he knew this. They'd had to deal with video cameras before- they had never been actually caught, red-handed, on tape, because the only tapes that showed them also had them fighting whatever the monster was, and usually the tapes tore, or bugged out, or were confiscated by the hunters and destroyed. He tapped back a quick message.

yeah, i know. we've dealt with this
kind of thing before.
11:14AM, May 29

ok, just making sure... are you
okay?
11:14AM, May 29

yeah im fine
11:14AM, May 29

i mean, you did break a bunch of your
ribs yesterday right? or... something
like that?
11:15AM, May 29

oh that no yeah no i did and they
still hurt and everything yeah but ive
had worse
11:15AM, May 29

geez.
11:16AM, May 29

yeah so im just fine.
11:16AM, May 29

that's good! um... do you want a
cake?
11:17AM, May 29

what
11:17AM, May 29

i wanted to... thank you guys, i
guess for saving veronica? so i asked
my dad how he would thank
someone who did him a favor or
something and he said bake them a
cake. so do you want a cake?
11:18AM, May 29

sure i guess who doesnt want a
cake
11:18AM, May 29

me! dad makes so many cakes! it's
more cakes than anyone could ever
eat in a lifetime!
11:19AM, May 29

hahaha that actually sounds pretty
awesome tbh
11:19AM, May 29

it is until you have to experience it!
11:20AM, May 29

i dunno about that
11:20AM, May 29

alright well sure i love cake so go
for it man
11:20AM, May 29

ok! but um... where do i like... put
it? how are you going to get it?
11:21AM, May 29

oh damn i guess you could bring
it to the motel or whatever can
you drive?
11:21AM, May 29

yeah i can drive! i am 16!
11:21AM, May 29

So the kid really was sixteen. He sure didn't look like it. There was a name for that aspect, Dave was sure of it, but he couldn't remember it at the moment.

alright alright cool here ill text you
the address and stuff
11:22AM, May 29

alright i'm on my way!
11:22AM, May 29

Okay, well that was a thing that was happening. Dave wondered if this had been a sound decision, then texted Bro.

hey bro did you get the thing yet
11:23AM, May 29

Not yet. It's guarded but I
haven't gone in for the rekill yet.
11:23AM, May 29

be careful
11:25AM, May 29

Always am.
11:25AM, May 29

Well he wouldn't be back for a while, probably. Dave sighed. He was going to have to get up, stagger over to the door, and unlock it. Unfortunately, unlike some hunters he could mention, he lacked powerful psychic powers and couldn't mentally work out the tumblers in the doorknob.

But there was no harm in trying.

A deadbolt was easy. But tumblers? Much more difficult. He closed his eyes, concentrating on the workings of the doorknob. This was also farther away than he normally worked from, too... but he could still try. Pain ate at his ribs, distracting him, but he took the feeling and channeled it towards his efforts. He mentally mapped the inside of the lock, then pushed at the tumblers, testing them. Each one went, ever so slowly, and he suddenly felt elated as he heard the lock click and turned it, pushing the mechanism back so that anyone could walk in.

Holy...

He found himself grinning broadly. He-! He did it! Really did it! He would have to tell Bro... or not, because Bro didn't approve of him practicing with his abilities.

Someone knocked at the door. Dave, surprised, glanced at his phone and realized it had taken him a full ten minutes to unlock the door. Just in time, too- John must have gotten her.

"Come on in!" he yelled, and to his relief it was in fact John who opened the door, holding a large plastic container in one hand. Dave then realized he didn't have a shirt on, and that his torso was mostly wrapped in strips of white bandage. Whoops.

John stared at him. "Hi," he said.

"Sorry for this," Dave said, trying to play it cool. He adjusted his shades in embarrassment.

"No, no, it's okay!" John set the cake on the desk of the hotel room and awkwardly scooted over, hands clasped behind his back. "Um, how are you feeling?"

"Terrible, to be honest," Dave sighed. "But it's not too bad, I'm just being a wimp."

"Hah, I bet not," John responded instantly. "That looks really bad."

Dave's right shoulder, front and back, was a mass of bruises. The skin was colored in shades of purple, with some of them already fading to green. His ribs, the bits that were visible, were also covered in dark blotches. John stared at them, and Dave would have shifted uncomfortably but it would have hurt.

"I guess," Dave said, for lack of anything else to say.

John suddenly frowned. "Why... was the door unlocked?"

"Bro must have left it unlocked," Dave improvised.

"What if someone got in?"

"Shoot them."

"Hahahaha!"

Dave stared at him.

"...wait, you were being serious?"

"There's a gun right there," Dave said, nodding his head towards the bedside table. It was hidden behind the Bible.

"Oh," went John. "That's... interesting."

"Yeah. Anyway." Dave coughed. "As soon as we get rid of this ghost, we'll probably be heading out of town..."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Sorry, the Ghostbusters can't hang around forever." Dave grinned crookedly.

"Awwww..."

"Although... I'm a little curious as to why all these ghosts are popping up all of the sudden. Three, just now? I don't get it. Maybe I'll do some research and we'll stay another day to figure out if something big is happening. It could just be a natural occurrence..."

"Uh, sure... What do you mean by, something big?" John asked, frowning.

"Oh, I don't know. Something that... would trigger a whole bunch of ghosts showing up all at the same time? Something causing them to all concentrate in this area. I don't know." Dave waved his hands vaguely and gave John the most serious look he could muster up. "This isn't exactly a clear-cut science, you know."

"Yeah, I would figure," John responded, raising his eyebrows. "So... do you guys just, do this, all the time?"

"Yeah," Dave answered. "Mostly."

"What about, you know, school?"

"I... don't go to school anymore," Dave said, feeling rather ashamed of himself at this point. "I mean, I went to high school until... earlier this year, really, although I had enough absents before that to make up for it. Bro took me hunting sometimes, and he wanted me to get a good education, but he moved around too much, so we just kind of... stopped." He took a deep breath- for some reason, that bothered him. Maybe it was the fact that he thought now, he was never going to be as smart as other kids- he wouldn't know as much, he'd be stupid. Maybe that worried him.

John fidgeted. "It's okay," he said. "I think you're awesome."

Dave huffed in amusement. That was something he almost never heard. "Cool."

John grinned.

Suddenly, Dave's phone buzzed. He reached for it, snatched it up, and stared at it for a few seconds, unlocking the screen and reading the message within. "It's from Bro."

"What's it say?" John asked, instinctively crowding close to read over Dave's shoulder. He almost went so far as to rest his chin on Dave's shoulder, but didn't because of the bruises.

FROM: Bro

Got it. It was a ringer.
11:42AM, May 29

"What's that mean?" John asked, pulling his head back so he could see the phone. His hand was resting on Dave's shoulder to support himself, although he didn't seem to notice.

"It means he beat the ghost," Dave said.

"And beat means...?"

"Burned her bones." He smiled. "When you burn a ghost's bones- or some object they're attached to- it kills them forever."

"Wow..." John murmured, looking apprehensive. "You know, if I hadn't seen you guys fight two ghosts- and shot one! Myself!- I-I would probably call you psychopaths."

"Yeah, we get that a lot," Dave replied. "It's part of the job requirement."

"Hah," went John, and realized he was holding onto Dave's shoulder. "Err, sorry. Iiii should probably get back home before Dad wonders where I've gone."

"Sure, sure," Dave said, giving him a smile. "Go ahead. Hey, thanks for the cake."

"No problem! You saved my friend," John replied. "I'll never forget that!"

Dave grinned long after John left. And then he realized his ribs didn't hurt anymore.