Hey guys, I'm back with a second chapter. A lot of people seemed interested in this thing's potential so here I am. Let's get the show on the road.
Valerie's place was alright, I guess. It was a cheap apartment in a run down suburb of Amity Park called Elmerton. It wasn't as nice as Fenton Works was, but it was passable. Then again, I'd grown up around rotting trailers, meth labs, and moonshine stills. Compared to that, Valerie's place was a royal palace. I helped her hobble in and lay down on the couch. She stifled a cry of pain as she hit the cushions.
"You okay?" I asked with concern.
"Bruised ribs, nothing a little pain killer won't take care of," she replied with a grimace.
"You're sure you don't need a hospital."
"Will, I told you, hospitals ask too many questions. Besides, I've had way worse than this," she said. I wasn't convinced, but after what I'd seen this afternoon, I didn't want to be the one to try and force her to do anything, even if she was hurt.
"Alright, we'll do it your way. What do you need?" I asked.
"Med kit, my room, under the bed," she replied, pointing to a door off to the side. I followed where she indicated and went into the room. When it comes to teenage girls, I'm not really sure what could be considered normal in terms of decoration. Whatever it is, it's defiantly not Valerie's room. Wanted posters adorned the wall, front and center of which was the white haired kid fighting Skulker this afternoon, although Skulker was up there as well.
Posters aside, there was equipment everywhere. Vials and vats containing a green goop labeled as 'ecto samples' sat in a small, makeshift lab. Blasters of various sizes were mounted on the wall alongside the posters. To top it all off, some dumbbells and a set of bars for chin ups were next to a small bed. This girl was intense, that much I could tell.
As I headed toward the bed, my eye fell on the wanted poster of the white haired kid again. The whole time I'd interacted with him, I couldn't shake the feeling that there was something familiar about him. Now that I got a good front and center look, I finally knew why. He resembled Danny, and in a passing way either. I mean full on doppelgänger resembled him. The major differences were hair and eye color.
That didn't sit well with me at all. During the fight, Danny had been no where to be found. But the guy that looked almost exactly like him was front and center? Not to mention his friends had up and vanished the instant the fight started to go sideways. Granted there was the possibility they'd run off like everyone else, but my little paranoid mind wasn't quite ready to dismiss it so easily.
Looking under her bed, I found the kit Valerie had sent me after. It was a small, olive green little thing with a red cross inside of a white circle on the lid. Grabbing it up, I headed back out into the living room.
"So what's the deal with that white haired kid?" I asked as I handed the kit over.
"He's a ghost. I hunt ghosts," Valerie answered, as if that explained it all. I shook my head as she opened the metal box and pulled some bandages out.
"That can't be it. His bounty isn't the highest on your wall, yet he's front and center," I pointed out.
"Why do you even care?" she asked.
"'Cause I'm new here, and way out of my element with no one seeming to want to explain anything. Frankly it's starting to piss me off," I replied. Valerie seemed to consider this for a moment before hiking up her shirt some, revealing her midriff. My hormone infused teenage mind might have been intrigued by this, if not for the ugly bruising that was visible all over her stomach area. Taking the bandages, she began wrapping them around her midsection.
"Okay, I can see your point," she said, tearing the bandage with her teeth and sticking it down before lowering her shirt.
"So what is going on, exactly?" I asked.
"It started just before the beginning of the school year. Rumors, strange things happening around the city. I didn't believe any of it at first, until that ghost kid and his dog tore though Axion Labs. My Dad was the head contractor for the security at the facility, and he lost his job as a result," she said.
"Ouch," I said, wincing at the thought.
"You're telling me," she said with a huff, "We were in the process of moving when that kid and his dog turned up with his dog again. They smashed all our stuff and forced us to restart from scratch."
"And you took up ghost hunting to get revenge," I said.
"At first, yeah, that was the idea. But then the attacks started getting worse. Every time it seemed the scale was turned up a little. Finally there was a massive ghost attack. People being attacked in the streets, mass panic, the whole nine yards. The mayor even got attacked in the middle of a city council meeting," she explained.
"And the white haired kid?"
"He was at the center of it all," she replied, pointing to a newspaper clipping on the wall. I looked it over. The picture showed the white haired kid holding a balding middle aged man in a headlock. The headline 'Ghost Kid attacks Mayor! Public Enemy Number One' was sprawled across the clipping.
"Suddenly the fight wasn't just about me anymore. I realized that there was almost nothing standing between innocent people and these ecto freaks, so I've been doing what I can to try and fend them off," Valerie said.
"There's only so much one person can do," I noted.
"If I don't, who will?" she asked. I remained quiet for a long time, thinking about all of this. For the first time, I began to understand the scale of what was going on in this town. If this only started recently, there had to be a reason behind it. Something that set off this sudden spike in the paranormal. Then, my Uncle Jack's words echoed though my mind.
'This is the Fenton Portal. It's a gateway into the Ghost Zone and it lets ghosts in whether I want it to or not.'
I didn't know when the portal had first been activated, but if I had to bet, I would have guessed it was sometime around the start of the school year when the first sightings started. Hell, I'd seen the damn thing let a ghost in with my own eyes. Given Uncle Jack's general lack of competence, it wouldn't surprise me at all if there had been more than just the one slip through.
"This is a lot to take in," I finally said, sitting down on the couch next to her. Valerie snorted at that.
"You're telling me. A few months ago I was one of the most popular people in school, and now I do this," she said, motioning to the room around us.
"A few months ago I was chopping firewood every morning," I replied, earning a small smile from her.
"I guess things have changed a lot for both of us, lately, huh," she said. I returned her smile and nodded, looking at our reflection in the TV. She was right, things had changed a lot lately. From backwoods cabin to ghost infested city. I'm not sure if a more major flip could have been pulled off if it tried.
Still, assuming Valerie wasn't crazy, and something told me she wasn't, from what I had been able to gather so far she was more or less on her own in this whole situation. Uncle Jack was the type of person who'd accidently shoot you in the back when going into a fight. Aunt Maddie spent all of her time trying to either fix Jack's mistakes or contain the results from them. Jazz was an academic, and would probably turn her nose up at the thought alone.
That left Danny and his friends. My cousin was something of a confused mess to me. The kid I remembered playing with growing up never ran from a fight. He faced me and a big dog down without a second of hesitation because he was defending what was his. But in the fight at the school it was the total opposite as he'd been no where to be found. The same with Sam and Tucker, they'd both ran at the first sign of trouble. They probably wouldn't hold up in a fight. Maybe. I would have to look into it more.
There was only one person left on my rather short list; me. With time and practice I could learn how to use the equipment. I was already a decent shot with a blaster, and I'd only get better with training. Same with the other bits of tech that would be needed. I wasn't much, a kid from Arkansas who'd more or less wandered into some kind of sci fi paranormal thing. But I wasn't the kind of person to turn away from someone who needed help. And right now, Valerie needed help.
"I could help you," I offered, putting my thoughts to words. She looked at me like she hadn't heard me quite right.
"You mean, like, with all this?" she asked, making a general gesture around the room. I shrugged.
"Ain't offering to do your homework if that's what you're askin' about," I replied. Valerie face was one of amused disbelief, a crooked grin as she shook her head. After a few moments, the look began to fade as she realized I was being completely serious in my offer.
"You…you're really offering, aren't you?" she asked.
"You said it yourself, there's only so much one person can do," I replied.
"Will, I can't ask that of you. It's too dangerous, and I can't run the risk of you getting hurt," she said.
"Who was helping who home this afternoon?" I asked, folding my arms. She looked away from me, toward the TV.
"You weren't in the thick of the fight," she argued, although rather weakly.
"I can handle myself. And you're not asking, I'm volunteering. You're carrying the weight of school and this on your shoulders alone. The least I can do is lighten the load a little," I replied. For the longest time, Valerie was silent, refusing to look at me.
"There's also the fact that my aunt and uncle are renowned ghost hunters as well, so I have access to all their equipment," I added when it seemed like I wasn't getting anywhere. Finally, she let out a sigh.
"Let me sleep on it, alright?" she asked. I simply nodded, happy to just have made it this far. As I stood, she held out her hand toward me and wagged her fingers. I frowned and cocked an eyebrow at her.
"Your phone. I'm gonna give you my number so we can stay in contact," she said. I dug my cell out of my pocket and handed it to her. She quickly saved herself in my contact before handing it back to me. For a moment, I just stood there, gawking at the device in my hand.
"What?" she asked, noticing my stupor.
"Nothing, it's just…this isn't how I pictured it going when a girl gave me her number for the first time," I answered.
"Don't make me regret this, Hartman," she warned, even though she had an amused smile on her face. I chuckled as I pocketed my phone and opened the door. Before walking out, I paused and looked back at her.
"You gonna be alright?" I asked.
"Yeah. This isn't the first time I've had to patch myself up," she replied.
"Okay. Let me know if anything changes, I'll see you at school," I said.
"See you tomorrow, Will," she replied. With that, I closed the door and began the long trek back to Fenton Works.
I had a lot to think about on my walk. My family, my new friend, well, I guess she was my friend. I took potshots at a metal Predator defending her and helped her limp home. If that didn't fall under the friend category I don't know what did. Then there was Danny. Again, I was confused by what I had seen. I'd seen bravery in Danny when he was younger, but now it seemed like he was a complete coward, or at least had developed enough of a sense of self preservation to not be in the same area as danger when it occurred.
A new idea popped into my head. What if Danny was the white haired kid? My first reaction was to scoff. But the more I thought about, the less scoff worthy the idea seemed. The two were almost physically identical. It explained why one was only seen when the other wasn't around. It would also explain where the brave kid I remembered growing up had gone.
That didn't quite explain the physical differences between the two. Although the more I thought about it, the less important those seemed. Between the tech I'd seen in both Valerie's and my relatives' possessions, changing something like hair and eye color didn't seem to be all that difficult to pull off. As I kicked an empty can along the sidewalk, I resolved to find out the truth once and for all.
"Will! Changed your mind on ghost hunting, have you?" Uncle Jack boomed as I stepped into the lab. I cringed as the big man turned away from whatever he had been working on to focus on me. It was like he got a mental proximity alert the second my foot stepped off of the stairs. My hope had been to come down here and do a quick inventory of weapons and gear in order to get a basic idea of what I had to work with.
"Yes and no," I answered hesitantly, "what are you working on?"
"Oh, I'm just redesigning some of the ecto pistols. I've streamlined them and given them a new power pack," he said, gesturing his hand over his work. Unlike the other, bulky ecto pistols which usually had a square body, or something resembling a soup can with a handle and trigger welded on it, these pistols were much more slim and eloquent.
They somewhat resembled a revolver out of the old west, with various green lights over them. He picked one up and broke the weapon apart where it the part that resembled a cylinder was, allowing the barrel and cylinder to fall forward and be exposed to the air. A ring of lights lined the frame of the cylinder, ranging from red to green as they went around. Currently it was blinking red.
"I've also made it to where the power packs can easily changed out for a quick reload," he said, removing the cylinder and replacing it with a new one. Instantly, the ring of lights all lit up, going from red to green before he snapped the weapon closed again. Turning, he handed the weapon to me handle first.
"Here, give it a try!" he said enthusiastically. I looked at it and back up at him.
"Has this thing been tested yet?" I asked.
"Nope! That's what makes it so fun!" he said before pressing a button. On the far side of the room, a set of targets popped up. They all resembled cartoonish versions of ghosts, but it was clear they were targets none the less. I looked from them to the gun in my hand. If I wanted to help Valerie, I was gonna need a weapon, and if I was gonna be any good, I need to know how to work it properly.
Raising the gun, I took careful aim at the first target, lining up the sights with the middle of it's head. The gun felt perfectly balanced in my hand, natural almost. I took a deep breath through my nose and held it for a moment before slowly letting it out, saying a silent prayer that it didn't blow up in my hand. With that, I squeezed the trigger.
A green plasma bolt rocketed out of the barrel of the blaster, slamming into the target and decapitating it. The gun itself barely even moved with recoil, and I felt myself perk up a little with my success. Adjusting my aim, I took down the other targets in quick succession.
"Look at that, you're a natural!" Jack praised.
"You got a good design there," I said as I turned the gun over and handed it back to him, "what about armor?"
"Armor?" he asked, as if the word was brand new to him.
"Yeah, don't you have anything in terms of body armor?" I asked.
"One or two prototype designs. But your Aunt and I mainly use jumpsuits when fighting ghosts," he said after a moment of thought. I couldn't help but frown at that.
"Jumpsuits?"
"Yeah! They look cool and they've got all kinds of pockets and hidey holes on them," he said enthusiastically.
"But, ghosts are generally stronger than humans. Wouldn't it make sense to have something to protect you other than just a jumpsuit?" I asked, remembering all the damage caused by the fight today.
"Maybe. But until I can find a way to make a set of amour pants that don't make me look fat, I'll continue to fight ghosts and look cool while doing it," he declared. The memory of the octopus ghost thrashing him without breaking a sweat flashed through my mind, and I didn't doubt for a second that was exactly what he was going to do. He must have sensed my unease, or just wanted to show off another piece of gear, because at that moment he turned to his work bench and handed me a helmet.
It was made from a simple gray metal, with a single slit of tinted glass over where the eyes were suppose to be. A few slits in the metal lined the area where the nose and mouth were protected, and a single antenna stuck out of the right side of the thing, right over the ear. To top it all off, the thing had some weight to it, a vague hint to the gear and protection stored inside.
"Here, this should suit your fancy. The Fenton Helm Mk. 1. It has a heads up display with thermal, night vision, a targeting system, a times ten zoom, and a short wave radio," he explained, pointing to various parts of it as he went. I blinked, impressed at what I was seeing.
"Nice."
"There's also a built in air filtration system, able to filter out even the most lethal of toxic gases," he said, pointing to the slits over the nose and mouth.
"Do ghosts use toxic gas?" I asked.
"Skunk ghosts," he answered, like he was giving the time of day. I made a mental note to run far and fast if I ever came across a neon green rodent of any kind. Curiosity took hold, and I slid the helmet on over my head. Oddly enough, despite the initial weight, the helmet didn't put me off balance in any way. I was able to turn my head one way and then the other without any real hindrance.
The heads up display came to life, displaying various bits of information across my vision in dark green letting. A tiny little set of crosshairs appeared, and followed my vision around as I glanced about. After a few moments of this, a big text reading 'No Weapon Detected' appeared across the center of my vision, blocking most of my view.
"It says no weapon detected," I relayed to my uncle.
"Oh, hang on a second. Here, try this," he said before slapping the ecto blaster I had just used back into my hand. The text across my vision disappeared, and a new set of numbers reading 40/50 appeared in the lower right hand corner. I realized this must have been an ammo counter, so the heads up display could tell me how many shots I'd have left before I needed to change power packs.
"I gotta admit, this is pretty awesome," I said, turning on the spot and watching a little compass in the bottom center of my field of vision spin with me.
"It IS, isn't it," he said before plucking the helmet from my head, "however none of it's been field tested yet. There's still a bug here or there that needs to be sorted out."
"I could do it for you," I offered, innocently enough. Jack actually laughed at that.
"I like your enthusiasm, but it's Fenton policy not to get minors involved in ghost fighting. There's too many legal ramifications for that," he said.
"What about Jazz and Danny?" I asked.
"They're different. I'm legally responsible for them."
"And me now," I pointed out. He put his hand to his chin in thought.
"True. But still, not yet. Not until I get a few more bugs worked out," he said. I shrugged at that. It wasn't necessarily a no. Not a yes, either, but not a solid no.
"Alright. I'm headed upstairs now," I said, laying the blaster back on the desk before heading back up the stairs. The house was quieter than usual. Aunt Maddie was out buying groceries, and Jazz was out doing some after school thing. That meant it was just Uncle Jack, Danny, and myself. Making my way up to the second floor, I decided that now was as good time as any to talk to my cousin.
I banged my fist on his door a few times and waited. After a few moments, the door cracked open, and Danny stuck his head around it to see who it was.
"What?" he asked in a board tone.
"Got a minute?"
"That depends entirely on what you want," he replied.
"Answers, mainly," I said. He was quiet for a moment, and then sighed, stepped back, and opened the door wider for me. I came into his room and took a seat at his desk, while he plopped down on his bed.
"So," he started.
"I'm gonna be blunt, cousin. In the few days since I got here, I've been stuffed in a net, mauled by hot dogs, and attacked by ghosts twice. Not to mention, one of said ghosts seems to know who I am before I've even fully unpacked my things. And he happens to look almost exactly like you," I said. Danny's eyes flared with his temper, although there was also a hint of fear in there as well.
"You think I'm the ghost kid?!" he asked.
"I'm saying that I'm not in the mood to be lied to, so I want the truth. Are you or are you not the white haired kid that was at school today?" I asked.
"Hello? Black hair? Blue eyes? Do I even look like the ghost kid to you?" he asked. I frowned and folded my arms.
"You have man eating hot dogs in your fridge and there's an interdimensional portal swirling two floors beneath your shoes. Changing hair and eye color should be a snap," I deadpanned.
"I'm telling you, it's not me," he defended. I sighed. It wasn't a surprise that he'd try to deflect my accusation. I would probably be doing the same thing if I was in his position.
"Maybe, maybe not. Just remember this, it doesn't matter if you are the white haired kid or not, if I made the connection, it's only a matter of time before that Valerie girl or someone else does too. And when that happens, they'll be less willing to talk it out than me," I said before heading to the door, leaving him with that thought as I headed back to my room.
I hoped he understood what I was trying to tell him. It didn't matter if he was the white haired kid or not, sooner or later someone was going to come gunning for him based on his looks alone. If I was gonna go through with this thing with Valerie, I'd have to keep my eye on him. Assuming I was right, and Danny was the white haired kid, I'd have to keep her off of him somehow. If not, I'd have to protect him. Valerie wasn't stupid. Like I warned Danny, if I figured it out, it was only a matter of time before she did too. I just hoped that I knew what I was getting into with all this craziness.
Looking back now, it's no surprise that I had no idea at all of just what I was dealing with.
And cut. That's all for this time. Let me know what you guys thought about this chapter. Drop a review, leave a PM, let me know what you liked or didn't like, and I'll see you all next time.