REAPER - Chapter 2 (of 3)

  The walk from the bridge to Casa Boa Apartments wasn’t very far, but because he knew he was walking into Santero territory, Jasper felt as though he was being watched, and the thought sent chills up his spine. He flipped his hood over his head and crossed his arms as he walked, Rosa drifting alongside him. They found the apartments on the corner of the block, and Jasper stood there, looking up at it. The building was just a beige cube, squat and dull; in the night’s dark it looked like ghetto mecca, a huge black slab, but the corner streetlight shone on part of the wall, showing exhaust-dust and layers of graffiti and attempts to paint over it in whichever shade of beige paint was the cheapest at the time.
  “Alright, so, what am I looking for?” asked Rosa.
  “Anything suspicious,” said Jasper. “Look for gang activity, guns, drugs... whatever. Especially look for girls around Sophie’s age, get up close, see if they look scared.”
  “Most people look scared around here, Jasper,” said Rosa, walking around to look him in the eye. “You look scared right now. Are you sure you want to do this?”
  “Yeah, just hurry up,” said Jasper.
Rosa nodded, then turned to the building and walked through the wall.
Jasper nodded, then looked around. The street was eerily quiet. In the distance, he could hear barking dogs, and traffic noise. Jasper looked up at the building, trying to see her through the windows. He heard loud house music and the revv of an engine, so he turned to see where it came from, and saw a muscle car turn a corner and start cruising down the block. The way the car seemed to crawl down the curb, windows open and riding low, Jasper assumed it was being driven by some Santero hooligans.
  “Come on, Rose...” Jasper muttered as he looked back at the building. Jasper looked somewhat conspicuous standing outside the apartment, and not wanting to draw the attention of the gangsters, Jasper went around the alley and started walking down the dark space between the buildings. He walked slowly and listened as the car came slowly down the street and past by the entrance to the alley. Jasper counted to five, then stopped and turned back. The car was gone, and it seemed as though it hadn’t seen him. It pulled around the corner and the music disappeared into the night. With a sigh of relief, he looked around the alley. Discarded newspapers and milk crates were shoved into the corners, and there was one huge dumpster by a side door.
It was an entirely uninteresting alley, except he saw something huddled by the dumpster which drew his eye. The unmistakable, softly glowing mist of a wayward spirit. He could only see what looked like a foot, but that ethereal matter was like nothing in nature.
  “Hello?” said Jasper, walking around the dumpster. “What are you doing down here?”
The ghost didn’t answer. As he walked around the dumpster, he saw the pallid form of a schoolgirl, with thin, distressed hair that clung to her form as though it were wet; she had sunken eyes, and a lost, glazed-over look in her eyes. She looked skinny, and wore ripped jeans and a big, puffy jacket.
“Hey, you. Ghost-girl, I’m talking to you. By the dumpster.”
The girl frowned, and it seemed to take her a moment to lift her head and look me in the eye.
  “You...?” she murmured, looking at me, sadly.
  “I’m Jasper. What’s your name?” he asked.
  “You’re not dead,” said the girl.
  “No, I’m not. But, I can see you. Can you tell me your name?”
“Frankie,” said the girl. Her voiced seemed to crack as she spoke. “Why are you talking to me?”
  “Because I want to know more about what’s been happening around here,” said Jasper. “But you look a little lost, we don’t have to talk about that if you don’t want to. If you need help, I’d like to help you.”
  “You can’t help me...” said Frankie, and she buried her head in her hands, and her voice became wet. “Nobody can help me.”
  “That’s not true,” said Jasper. “Just tell me what you want, and I’ll help.”
  “I want to leave!” screamed Frankie. Suddenly she flickered and her form leapt up and slammed into Jasper with inhuman speed. He flew back and slammed into the opposite wall, collapsing onto a stack of boxes. They cushioned his fall slightly, but they were full of glass bottles, which jabbed into his side through the damp cardboard.
“No... I’m sorry. I’m sorry...” Frankie drifted over and reached down to pick him up, but her hands passed through him. “No no nonono...”
Her voice started to get high with frustration, until she was crying and her chant turned into a moaning cry.
  “No, it’s okay,” said Jasper, grunting as he got up. “You’re just a little twitchy. It happens sometimes.”
  “What’s going on?” murmured Frankie as she crouched down, her head in her hands again.
  “You’re a ghost...” said Jasper, dusting himself off, “I guess your death was pretty tragic, it’s why you’re on edge. That kind of emotion gives you power to do things sometimes, but it also makes things a little hard to control.”
  “I’m so sorry,” said Frankie, crouching down.
  “It’s okay,” said Jasper. “I know it’s hard... but, could you tell me how you died? I’d be able to help you more, if I knew what got you here in the first place.”
For a long time, Frankie didn’t answer. She leaned back and drifted back into the space beside the dumpster, and sat there with her legs straight out in front of her.
As she sat there, Jasper heard Rosa call from the end of the alley.
  “Jasp!” she said, “What are you doing?”
  “I found someone,” Jasper called back. As Rosa approached, he turned to Frankie. “Don’t worry, this is Rosa, she’s a friend of mine.”
  “What’s the matter?" said Rosa, when she saw Frankie, sitting dejectedly on the ground.
  “I think we’ve found another victim,” Jasper said quietly. “Don’t worry, Frankie, we’re here to help. Tell us how you died.”
Jasper waited patiently until she finally spoke, and when she did the emotion in her voice was replaced with a world weary monotone.
  “I died right here...” said Frankie, “It’s my fault.”
  “Hey, no, it’s not your fault.” said Jasper.
  “No no...” Frankie shook her head. “It is. I did it on purpose.”
  “Oh...” said Jasper, he cleared his throat and crouched down to look her in the eye. There was another moment of silence before she spoke again.
  “I came here to get high after school. I bought some hard rock, and I smoked it. But, I needed to get home, so I left, but I felt good.”
  “And you came here?” asked Rosa.
  “Yeah, I was on an up, but I saw a car. I thought it was a cop... it probably wasn’t a cop. I hid back here, but someone followed me, and grabbed me. And he undid my belt...”
  “No,” said Rosa.
Frankie’s face fell,
  “He raped me...” she buried her head in her hands again, and began to wail.
  “Hey, it’s okay,” said Rosa. she stepped forward and placed a hand on Frankie’s shoulder. When her ghastly hand touched Frankie, the girl flinched, and there was a sound like a static electric jolt. She looked up and seemed to calm down when she saw Rosa.
  “Thank you,” said Frankie. “He attacked me, I don’t know how long, I couldn’t see, my head was on the floor. I don’t know when he stopped, because I was so high... I was still feeling so good from the drugs, but dirty from what he did. I felt so guilty.”
  “It’s not your fault,” said Rosa. Frankie slowly nodded, but her eyes still looked pained.
  “After he left, I picked myself up, but the drug was wearing off. I didn’t want to fall back down, I didn’t want to feel like that... not ever. I did all of it, I smoked everything left of what I had. I just didn’t want to live like that.”
  “And you overdosed.” said Jasper grimly.
  “It wasn’t quick,” said Frankie sadly, shaking her head and grabbing her neck. “After a while, I felt tired, and limp. I sat down here. I felt tight in my chest, and then I saw a tiger. A white tiger. He stood and stared, like he was stalking me. Snarling and roaring. Then I drifted away...”
  “Where’s your body?” asked Rosa.
  “Garbagemen found me after two days. Called the cops, and they brought in some clean-up guys. None of them saw me, they all just pitied my dead body...”
The sound of the house music from before started to come back, and Jasper glanced up before leaning in closer to Frankie.
  “I’m so sorry,” said Jasper. “I know this is difficult, but do you know who attacked you?”
  “No,” said Frankie. “My face was... down.”
The engine noise grew louder, but then someone cut the engine. Jasper heard a car door open.
  “Do you remember anything?” said Jasper. “Anything at all could help.”
  “He was Spanish, he called me putita. And he smelled bad.”
Jasper heard footsteps near the entrance to the alley.
  “Jasp,” said Rosa in a harsh whisper. “Santeros are here.”
  “What did he smell like?”
  “Just dirty, like he needed to shower.”
  “Hey, boy!” called out one of the hoodlums. “What you doin’, man?”
  “Thank you,” said Jasper standing up. “You’ll be okay...”
Jasper stood and turned to see three boys, in their late teens or early twenties. One kid near the front had a shaved head, and was wearing baggy cargo shorts with a loose-fitting white tank top covered in swear words which were drawn on with a felt-tip pen and a purple kerchief around his neck. The tall kid to his left was dressed similarly, except his shirt was clean and his kerchief was around his arm and he was holding a tire iron surreptitiously by his hip. The other kid wore his purple as a bandanna, and he had several rings on his fingers, which he was flexing.
  “Hey,” said Jasper, walking over to meet the guys, standing openly to show his hands were empty. “Is something the matter, guys?”
  “The matter?” said the bald guy, with a heavy Hispanic accent. “I dunno, homes. You tell me.”
  “I’m not here looking for trouble,” Jasper says.
  “Do you even know where this is?” he asked.
  “I know, Santero turf,” says Jasper.
  “Then why are you here, man?” he said, pointing. “Grey hood, plain jeans... you ain’t got no colors, man. Do you roll?”
  “What? No. I’m not with any gang.”
  “Then why you here? You checkin’ out on our blocks, man?” he said, stepping forward. He placed his hand on his waistband in a way that made it clear that there was a gun concealed within. Instinctively, Jasper reached around to his back pocket, where he kept his father’s straight razor
  “Don’t start anything,” Rosa said quietly into my ear, warningly. “There are Santero boys living here. They’re probably just protecting their turf, they want to scare you off, not hurt you.”
  “A girl tried to kill herself tonight,” said Jasper, taking his hand away from his pocket. “She jumped off the West Flagler bridge and I only just managed to save her and get her to the hospital. She was last seen coming from here, and I want to know what happened.”
  “Some girl... from here?” asked the guy, and he dropped his hand from his waistband.
  “Yeah, her name was Sophie. She was seen around here, looking lost.”
  “I don’t know ‘Sophie’, she a white girl?”
  “Yeah, she had pink and black hair.”
  “Ah, right...” said the guy. “I think I remember seein’ her around. She’s a user.”
  “A what?”
  “Y’know, a doper... a druggie. She buys around here, and probably had a bit too much; thought she could fly,” said the guy with a shrug.
  “I spoke to her before she jumped,” Jasper said. “She wasn’t high, she was scared and alone. I think someone attacked her.”
  “Someone?” said the guy, glancing at his friends, sounding on edge. “Or some gangster?”
  “I don’t know,” said Jasper
  “Damn right you don’t know!” said the guy, advancing on Jasper and jabbing a finger in his chest. “You ain’t accusin’ Santero boys! We beat up cops; we kill punks. We don’t go after schoolgirls or crack whores...”
  “What about Lisa?” said Jasper louder. “There was another girl that lived around here. She left after being attacked by a gang member, in this very block.”
  “We already dealt with that...” said the gangster, darkly.
  “What do you mean?”
  “It was some tocado dog that lived ‘round here. We put him down,” he said. “Like I said, we don’t like people that hurt girls. We ain’t monsters; we are soldiers of Santa Muerte.”
Jasper felt a chill run down his spine at those words.
  “But what about Sophie?” asked Jasper. “This feels like more than a coincidence.”
  “Like I said, she was usin’,” said the gangster with a shrug. “After that high, you can crash real low. I’m sorry she got hurt, but it happens. She shouldn’t use so much at once...”
  “I just want to be sure,” said Jasper.
  “Well, now you’re sure,” said the gangster. “Now, run along...”
Jasper could see he wasn’t going to convince them to let him hang around in their territory, so he waited for them to step aside and let him leave. But after a moment, he realized that they weren’t going to step aside, so he turned around and walked the other way.
  “What’s going on?” said Frankie as he walked past.
  “Come with me,” Jasper said under his breath. He stopped to lean down and reach out a hand.
  “Don’t play around, homes!” called out the gangster. Jasper ignored him and helped her to her feet, then walked with her hand in hand.
  “We’ll take you somewhere safe,” said Jasper, heading around the corner of the alley. “Somewhere you won’t be left so alone...”