“I’ll explain later, but I can’t do metaphysics while I’m on the phone.”
“You’re using your necromancy?” He made it a question.
“Trying to.”
“If the two of you need backup, call.”
“I will, thanks, Larry.” I hung up. It was the friendliest conversation I’d had with him in months. He and I had come to a parting of the ways over our views on vampires and the fact that I was a shooter and he wasn’t, and the other marshals respected my kill count over his moral high ground.
The ghoul was still pressed to Eddie’s back, but it wasn’t snarling at us. “I can’t find another necromancer anywhere in the city, or the miles beyond.”
“But you were able to touch Larry enough for him to call?” Manny made it a question.
“Apparently, so if I did touch someone with our psychic gift they’d know it when I did.” I stared at the ghoul, and a quick thought let me feel the others still out in the darkness.
“We need to get him off my dad,” Susannah said in a voice that was squeezed down into a tight, frightened sound.
“I know.”
“Ask him to get off the man,” Manny said.
“What?” I asked.
“Ask him, or tell him to move.”
“So, what, we move him away from Eddie, so we can shoot him?”
“No need to shoot him if he does what you tell him to do, Anita.”
I looked at Manny. “I can’t control ghouls, especially wild ones that my necromancy didn’t do anything to bring to life.”
“If it were anyone else but you, I’d agree, but if any animator I know can do this, it’s you.”
“Manny . . .”
“Try, Anita,” Nicky said.
I glanced at him.
“Please, Anita, at least try before that thing hurts my dad.”
I sighed, and looked at the ghoul. It was watching me, not in a hostile way, not even in a neutral way. There was a demand in its large reddish eyes, not the kind of demand human eyes give you, but closer to the way a really active dog will look at its owner, as if thinking, You’re going to do something interesting now, right? We’re going to do something now, right? And even that wasn’t exactly it, but it was the closest thing I’d ever seen to the look in the ghoul’s face.
“You”—I pointed at the ghoul—“move off the man.”
It blinked, looked at me for a second.
“Move, now,” I said.
The ghoul blinked one more time and then crawled off the man he’d pinned to the ground. He kept his eyes on Nicky, Domino, and Susannah while he did it, but he moved. I think we all held our breath. The ghoul sat beside Eddie, but he wasn’t on top of him anymore.
“Tell him to move farther away from Eddie,” Manny said.
“Move farther away from the man,” I said.
The ghoul looked at me.
“Try it simpler,” Nicky said.
“Like you’d talk to a dog,” Zerbrowski said.
I looked at him.
He shrugged.
If the ghoul were a dog, what would I say? How would I order it to get away from Eddie? I’d say, Get away from the man. I tried it. “Get away from the man.”
It looked at me, puzzled, but it moved a few more inches away from Eddie.
“Call him to you, Anita,” Manny said.
“He’s not really a dog, Manny.”
“Just try.”
My heart was beating a little fast; it wouldn’t work, it couldn’t work. “Come to me,” I said.
It looked at me sort of sideways, suspicious, but it came to me slowly, each movement stiff and reluctant like a half-feral dog. It wants to be petted and loved, but it’s learned humans are bastards and more likely to hurt than help. The ghoul moved in that awkward, nearly four-legged gait they had sometimes, as if the legs didn’t quite hold them upright, so they had to use their arms more like an ape. He, or it, sat a few feet away from me, out of reach, but closer to me than to Eddie, which is what we wanted.
Eddie got up slowly, and when he stood up, Susannah started to run to him, but Manny said, “Don’t run; that attracts ghouls and can trigger their chase reflex.”
“He’s right,” I said, softly, still keeping my gaze on the ghoul in front of me.
Susannah went slowly to meet her father around the far side of the grave. They hugged hard. One win for the good guys.
I went back to staring at the ghoul, and he stared back. He was less than eight feet from me. If he tried to jump me I’d never get any of the guns up in time to defend myself. Minimum safe distance for drawing, aiming, and firing a gun is twenty-one feet; anything closer and a human being can close the distance faster than you can draw a weapon. All the people who complain about cops shooting someone from a distance don’t understand how fast people can move, and how long it takes to draw, aim, and fire. The ghoul would be faster than a human. Eight feet between us was like giving him a free try at me, or at Zerbrowski or Manny, who were clustered around me.
“What now?” I asked.
“I’m not sure,” Manny said.
Nicky was moving slowly toward us. Domino started to follow, but Nicky shook his head. The ghoul noticed Nicky and shifted uneasily, making a low anxious sound in its throat. “Hold up, Nicky.”
“Why isn’t he afraid of me? I’ve got a gun,” Zerbrowski said.
“I don’t know, maybe Nicky looks like more of a threat.”