boucher book oct28.pdf - Index of

The Ghost of Me 319
My ghost’s form was becoming indistinct.
“But you’re a ghost. That knife went right through you. Nothing can wound
you.”
“That’s what I thought. But he did … and here I am—” His voice was trailing
away too. “Only one thing … could have—” Then there was silence, and I was staring
at nothing but the empty floor, with a little glistening piece of light metal on it.
Father Svatomir and Charlie were in the room now, and the silence was rapidly
crammed with questions. I scrambled to my feet and tried to show more assurance
than I felt. “You were right, Father. It was Nick Wojcek. Went for me with that
revolver. Luckily, he missed, got panicky, and ran away.”
“I shall find him,” said Father Svatomir gravely. “I think that after this fright I
may be able to talk some sense into him; then perhaps he can help me convince the
others.” He paused and looked down at the gleaming metal. “You see, John? I told
you they believed you to be a black magician.”
“How so?”
“You notice that? A silver bullet. Ordinary lead cannot harm a magician, but
the silver bullet can kill anything. Even a spirit.” And he hastened off after Nick
Wojcek.
Wordlessly, I took the undematerialized tequila bottle from Charlie and paid
some serious attention to it. I began to see now. It made sense. My ghost hadn’t
averted my death—that had been an absurd hope—but he had caused his own. All
the confusion came from his faulty memory. He was haunting not mine, but his own
murderer. It was my ghost himself who had been killed in this room.
That was right. That was fine. I was safe from murder now, and must have been
all along. But what I wanted to know, what I still want to know, what I have to find
out and what no one can ever tell me, is this:
What happens after death to a man whose ghost has already been murdered?