Chapter 19: Pursuit

Tucker and Jazz bolted through the darkened city streets, weaving their way through the mindless throng that cluttered their path. They had been running at a full sprint for a good twenty minutes in a rather futile attempt to keep up with the ghost they had seen crossing the sky. It hadn't taken long for the ghost to outpace them – it was, after all, flying – but Tucker and Jazz were not willing to give up, and had continued to run in the direction that the ghost was headed. Eventually the thing was bound to stop, and maybe they would be able to find some answers then.

"This is probably a bad idea," Jazz panted as she pushed the muscles in her legs to work harder. It was moments like these that made Jazz grateful that she had always been the athletic type.

Tucker, on the other hand, was not the athletic type. He puffed and wheezed behind the redheaded young woman, his lungs stinging and his legs aching. It was through sheer force of determination that Tucker was able to keep up with Jazz, and he still found himself wishing that he had spent more time in the gym and less time on his computer. One thing was for sure, helping Danny fight ghosts had been a good way to stay in shape, and the past three years had seen a noticeable decline in his physical activity.

"Yeah, this is definitely a bad idea," Tucked huffed as he knocked past another drone. He had stopped worrying about plowing these people aside some time ago. After all, they didn't seem to care. "But it's the only lead we have right now. I can't think of anywhere else to start. Can you?"

"No, I guess not," replied Jazz. "But I do kind of feel like we've just sent ourselves on a suicide mission."

"I sure do love your optimism, Jazz," Tucker said dryly.

He and Jazz proceeded to hurtle an old woman who was sprawled out in the street, and Tucker couldn't help but notice the glossy-eyed stare that occupied the woman's face. It disturbed him that she didn't so much as blink as they passed over her. He didn't like being in a city occupied by these living mannequins, and he found himself wishing for some indication that the ghost was nearby. At least then he would feel like they were making progress.

It wasn't long before Tucker got his wish.

The sign of the ghost's close proximity came in the form of a loud boom that shook the streets. The sound vibrated through every hard surface, including Tucker's teeth. Jazz snapped to a halt and whipped her head from side to side in search of the noise. As a result, Tucker slammed into her, unable to stop his forward momentum in time to avoid the collision.

"Look over there," Jazz pointed to an intersection to their left, completely unfazed by the fact that Tucker had just slammed into her. Tucker turned to face the direction Jazz was indicating, and his eyes widened as he saw the explosion of grey dust that came with a collapsing building several blocks down. The sound of a terrible howl echoed down the street, and green light flared outward from the site of the destruction.

"Come on, that must be it!" Jazz said, grabbing Tucker by the wrist and yanking him forward as she began to run again.

The two of them launched themselves across the street, still hand-in-hand as they charged toward the chaos. Tucker's fatigue was completely forgotten as a burst of adrenaline surged through his veins, causing his perception to sharpen. Sound and sensation separated into distinct blips on his radar, each perfectly visible – perfectly clear. He could hear the blood pounding in his ears, while simultaneously being able to hear the crashing from up ahead. But there was another sound, one that held his interest far more than the rest. Perhaps he was mistaken. Perhaps he was imagining things. But Tucker could swear that he heard a voice cry out, and as far as he could tell it was calling Sam's name.

If he didn't know any better, he'd say that voice belonged to... but that was impossible, wasn't it?

As Tucker and Jazz finally approached the scene, they were met with as horrifying a sight as they could have imagined. Just across the street they could see the menacing figure of the ghost hovering over the broken and helpless body of their friend. But just as the two of them activated the blades of their weapons and started forward, Tucker's eye caught sight of something that Jazz missed. It registered in his peripheral vision as a streak of black and neon green with slivers of silver running through it. The streak zipped through the air and struck the ghost in the back, disappearing into it like a bullet. The creature convulsed backward and began to shiver as though it were having a seizure. Tucker and Jazz both stopped dead in their tracks and gaped as the ghost clawed at its own flesh. It looked like it was trying to extract foreign objects out from under its skin. Whatever was going on, something had it distracted.

"What - what just happened?" Jazz gawked. The creature continued to jolt and shiver, moving like a puppet being jerked around on a string, and Jazz was too baffled to do anything but stand there and stare.

Tucker shook his head in disbelief as a feeling swelled in the pit of his stomach. He wasn't sure why, but he was positive that he knew what that streak had been. It felt like more than just a hunch. It felt like the certainty that comes when you feel the presence of a close friend.

"My God," Tucker uttered, his voice inaudible over the din. "I think it's Danny..."