Tomorrow's Ghosts by Charles Christian Read Free Book Online Page A

tells me it is still just a Type Two residual imprint haunting that cannot interact with me but now I’m not sure.
    Maybe it’s time for me to move? Houses are redolent with powerful memories and associations at the best of times but when those reminders come from beyond the grave?
    I finally got around to mending Ursula’s crucifix and chain. It still hangs from the headboard of the bed in the upstairs front bedroom.
    Sometimes I see the ghost of Ursula lying on that bed.
    Sometimes I cannot resist the temptation to lie down beside her. I know I cannot communicate with her but it consoles me... a little.

RIP AND BURN
    Charles Christian

1. A Telephone Rings
    The grey-green telephone in the grey-green interview room rings twice before it is answered.
    “Quick, Sergeant, is the Pryce girl still with you?”
    “She was just a minute ago, she’s just popped out to the loo. Why do you ask? She seems a lot more chilled than when we spoke with her yesterday? At this rate, I might even grow to like her.”
    “It’s not her but the rest of the family that’s in trouble this time. There’s just been an incident at the Pryce home. The emergency services are down there now. First reports say the building has collapsed. Do you mind telling the kid the news or do you want some moral support from me?”

2. The Lonely Forest
    In a bleak windswept clearing, close to an ancient burial mound in the middle of a lonely forest lies the body of a young man.
    At first glance you just might think he is merely chilling out in the morning dew. Perhaps listening to some banging tracks on his Apple iPod Nano after a long night’s clubbing? But don’t be fooled by the
Skullcandy
headphones covering his ears.
    Even if you can overlook his bulging, manic eyes and his blackened tongue jutting out from between his bloodless lips, you will never forget his feet. A pair of new indigo
Converse AllStar Chuck Taylor
sneakers should not have their soles worn away so badly that the young man’s naked feet protrude from the bottom. And those feet! All bloodied with the flesh flayed away to the bare bone in places.
    Dannii Pryce wakes with a jolt. Her heart is pounding and she is sweating. “Now where in Seven Hells did that nightmare spring from?” she thinks to herself. “Oh yes, that would explain it...”
    Slowly her eyes adjust to the darkened room. Unfamiliar surroundings. Unfamiliar bed. Unfamiliar sounds.
    “Got it,” she says under her breath, as she remembers she is back home from university and staying with her father and his new wife, the improbably named Xanthe del Monte. “What kind of name is that for a grown woman, particularly one with a Geordie accent?” Not that Dannii can talk, as most people who meet her for the first time think she was named after Kylie Minogue’s kid sister.
    And, talking of kids, being at home with her father means that bloated creep Sebastien, with an ‘e’ – Xanthe’s son by her first marriage and now Dannii’s stepbrother – will be snoring his fat head off in the next room. “Yuk, yuk and double yuk again.”
    Except that he isn’t.
    Nor is he in evidence at breakfast the following morning. Not that this is unusual or of any concern to Xanthe who just uses his absence as an opportunity to boast, at Dannii’s expense, about Sebastien’s “huge popularity with his enormous circle of really fascinating friends,” before going on to add that unless Dannii makes more effort with her personal appearance and social skills, she risks being left on the shelf and becoming an old maid by the time she is thirty.
    “Yeah, right,” thinks Dannii, “and Seb’s popularity wouldn’t have anything to do with the way he chucks his money around – correction, his trust fund’s money – to buy some credibility and to try to keep in with his enormous circle of really fascinating friends!”
    Needless to say, Dannii’s father steadfastly ignores Xanthe’s comments, preferring instead to concentrate on