The Fourth Day

As before, Mr. Reeves awoke first, checked to see that Mr. Leeds was fast asleep in his office, and prepared breakfast. He also checked the electrograph for messages, for he assumed Fort Bowie would have something to say about the Red Ghost still roaming Eagle Creek, and he was right.

“The garrison at Fort Bowie sent an electrogram.” He informed his English guests over breakfast.

“Hmph.” Joseph exclaimed. “Let me guess, they want us to know that they have the utmost faith in our abilities and are praying for our success.”

Mr. Reeves smirked. “No. Not even close.”

“I thought so.” Joseph said.

“They’re urging us, in the strongest possible words that they dare use, to put a swift end to the bloody rampage of the Red Ghost.”

“Good Lord.” Joseph muttered. “This is only the fourth day. There’s only been one death. I don’t mean to sound like I’m belittling what happened to poor Ms. Richards, but Mr. Reeves, you’ve hunted down murderers before, human murderers, and did the authorities ever give you grief just four days into your manhunt?”

“Not once.”

“Of course! I swear, I don’t think mankind is ever going to stamp out ghost shyness. Some people will always be ghost shy--especially people in power, it seems! It’s alway the the authorities that can’t stand ghosts. I bet it's because they can’t tax them.”

“You’re probably right. Indians make them nervous for the same reason. It’s why they keep trying to make citizens out of them.”

“Have you sent a reply?” Matthew asked. “Tell them the Red Ghost’s haunting should be resolved today.”

“Tell them it’s a camel.” Joseph said. “Imagine the look on their faces when they read that!”

“I’ve already sent a reply.” Mr. Reeves said. “I told them we’re going to run the Zacare Operation against it today. I didn’t tell them about it being a camel, though.”

“Ah, why not?” Joseph asked.

“I thought I’d save such things for after we affix the Red Ghost.” Mr. Reeves answered. “They already think we’re incompetent, I don’t want them to think we’re insane.”

When they had finished breakfast, they flew Whisper out to a remote place along Eagle Creek, far from any homes. They were sure they would be able to affix the Red Ghost, but experience had taught them that a little caution could save a lot of grief. If anything happened, they wanted to make sure that an angry ghost wouldn’t be placed somewhere it could harm people.

Matthew produced his gaeite candle. “I’ll begin.”

He pressed a button on the metal base of his candle then turned a knob to the right as far as it would go.

A bubble of olprt radiance bloomed in the Arizona territory, stretching for miles in all directions. A tiny sun bloomed like a flower in the Arizona wilderness.

Matthew gathered his thoughts, then began.

A Dyeus King recalled the previous king to the throne room. He arrived with a sly grin. Of course, he would be needed. He had arranged things well before the assassination to make sure that he would be needed.

The Zacare Operation.

Far into the distance, a red beast walked out of the air. Its long legs stamped down into the yielding earth like tentpoles driven by a hammer. Now that the manesologists were aware of what was on its back, they could clearly see the skeleton bobbing up and down on its back. Time and dusty winds had eaten away the skin, but the ligaments still held firm.

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“Do we affix him now, Matthew?” Joseph asked.

“No. Not now.” Matthew answered. “He doesn’t detect us, we’re well outside his Astral hand. Let’s try and study his habits before he starts kicking and screaming.”

“If he starts heading this way we need to move, so be ready for that.” Mr. Reeves said. “That acute sensitivity of his means as soon as we brush up his Astral hand, he’s going to either run from us, or charge at us.”

“Spyglasses, everyone.” Matthew said.

The group produced spyglasses made with gaeite lenses. The light seen through their amber-colored ends could be altered with simple Operations to produce clear images of the naturally invisible well beyond the range of conventional gaeite candles. In the case of a ghost that was already visible, the spyglasses were still useful as spyglasses.

Through their spyglasses, the men could see the Red Ghost and its white rider in clear, gruesome detail.

“Look at that!” Joseph exclaimed. “God, there’s still some flesh hanging off the bones.”

“I think that’s clothing.” Martin said. He took a closer look. “No, wait, I was wrong. It’s clothing and flesh. Oh God, I think he died in the saddle. I think he died slowly.”

“Very slowly.” Mr. Reeves said. “Look down at his legs and waist and you’ll see what I mean.”

The Englishmen did so, and saw leather straps so tightly bound to the desiccated legs that they almost seemed a part of him, like drooping strips of peeled skin only partially cut from the muscle.

The straps vanished beneath the red fur of the ghost camel. The straps had evidently been on for a long, long time. Raw flesh and matted fur must have grown over the straps, and the ectoplasmic body of the ghost camel mirrored the poor fate of the living camel.

‘Martin, your eyes have a way of sussing out the difference between physical matter and ectoplasm.” Joseph said. “What are those straps?”

“They’re physical matter.” Martin said. “I was right. Some poor man died in the saddle, but what’s more, someone lashed him to it. Even after he died, the camel continued to carry him. Even after the camel died, the camel continued to carry him. Oh, that’s so hellish!”

“Maybe when the Union retook Camp Verde they tied a Confederate soldier to a camel and made it go, just to torture the poor man?” Joseph suggested.

“Both sides did things like that to each other.” Mr. Reeves said. “So it’s certainly possible. But another explanation is that the man could have been learning to ride his camel.” Mr. Reeves suggested. “I’ve heard of people that tie themselves to their horses when they’re just learning how to ride. Maybe the man wanted to ride a camel. Maybe he was a Jefferson Davis fan and purchased one from Arabia, or maybe he was a Confederate soldier and picked one up when they first took Camp Verde. Regardless, my guess is that the camel got spooked by something, broke into a gallop, and he could never get the straps undone.”

“Amazing how just one innocent mistake like that can end a man.” Joseph said.

“Wait! Everyone be quiet!” Mr. Reeves held up a hand. “Quiet! You hear that?”

The manesologists strained their ears to listen to the wind. Joseph’s old ears couldn’t hear a thing, but Martin and Matthew heard a voice as dry and creaky as the bones strapped to the camel.

“Water…water…take me to water…”

“God, poor man went an awful way.” Mr. Reeves said. “Better a bullet to the head than that.”

“What’s he saying?” Joseph asked.

“Water.” Martin said. “He’s begging for water.”

“Oh. Then I can see why the man manifested as his mount.” Joseph said. “Think about it. The poor man is tied to a camel. His body is baking in the sun. He’s dying. His only hope is that his camel leads him to water, and it's a damn thin hope considering how long camels can go without water. His mind starts to go. But he thinks, in his last thoughts, that if the camel keeps going, he can stay alive. He starts to will the camel to take another step, just another step. He starts to think of himself as the camel. And now, as a ghost, he is the camel.”

“I know I’d rather think of myself as the beast over the poor man attached to it.” Martin said.

“I just remembered something, gentleman.” Mr. Reeves said. “Mrs. Richards was killed while watering the cattle. And the bear was killed close to the creek. Parts of it were even in the water. It may have been trying to get a drink when the Red Ghost came upon it.”

“So the Red Ghost killed them to try and get at their water.” Joseph said.

“Seems that way.” Mr. Reeves said.

“Then there’s something I don’t understand.” Martin said. “Eagle Creek is right there. He’s been sighted going up and down the creek since his haunting began. Lucid the Red Ghost is clearly not, but he’s been around here long enough to figure out that the creek is full of water, and he was certainly aware of it when he killed that grizzly, so why is he roaming around? Why isn’t he by the creek constantly drinking?”

“Let’s find out. It’s time for an experiment.” Matthew said. “Martin, could you tell your dogs to gouge out a little furrow from the creek?”

“Hold on, Matthew.” Joseph said. “We should try a different water source. Let’s eliminate the possibility that something about the creek makes him hesitant to drink from it.”

Martin spread his arms out and gestured to the dry wilderness around them. “A different water source, such as?”

“The Sky Witch.” Joseph answered.

“You’re going to call her?” Mr. Reeves asked.

“Yes.” Matthew said.

“Are you sure you want to do that? If I remember your reports correctly, she’s a little exuberant when it comes to requests.”

“We recruited her before Blackwall was even built. She does have a spirit to her, but she can be trusted to act so long as what’s requested of her pertains to lightning, wind, and rain. The Bancroft incident you’re probably thinking about happened because we asked her to dry up a body of water, not create one. We won’t make that mistake here.”

“So she’s all about service, rain or shine.” Mr. Reeves said. “Like a US postman.”

“Well, in her case, service in rain, but never shine.” Matthew said.

He closed his eyes and called to the Sky Witch. His thoughts reached out to her across the planet, reached out to her all the way at her remote chain of islands in the Atlantic. Ernst, Morton, and Glass had placed her there so that she could play with the weather as often as she liked without disturbing a soul.