Will Mabbitt - Embassy of the Dead: Hangmans Crossing

Ghosts dont feel the cold.

All the same, Amber Chase lifted the collar of her bomber jacket to protect herself from the freezing night air. Shed been dead for ninety years, but old habits die hard.

Unusually for the city, the snow was beginning to settle. A light coating covered the dead-end street, a thin blanket of white concealing the grime beneath.

Amber kept to the shadows. With darkness came safety. Even though she was invisible to the vast majority of the living, it was best to take precautions.

Besides, it wasnt the living she was afraid of.

Something bad was crossing over. Something worse than shed ever expected. She had a time, a date, and now... a name. For the sake of the here-and-now and the happily-ever-Afterworld, it had to be stopped.

Grave tidings must be delivered.

Her handler would know what to do. He should be here by now.

Where was he?

Her eyes scanned the high brick walls of the alley. She was looking for the triple-crossed logo of the Embassy. A sign that would show he was here, somewhere, waiting in the shadows.

But she was at the dead end now and there was no symbol. She looked to the night sky, cursing her rashnessthe trait that had gotten her killed in the first place.

Ninety years later and she could still smell her mistake: the acrid burning scent of her planes over heated engine. She could still hear the altimeter ticking down.

800 feet. 700 feet. 500 feet. 200 feet...

A countdown to the impact of the rocky desert that was hurtling toward her. A different pilot would have settled for breaking the world distance record. But not her. She had to push the plane to its limits...

The only part of the plane theyd found was a small piece of metal bearing the words shed carefully painted on the fuselage: Against all odds.

She blinked away the memory of her death. Something had caught her eye.

Back down the alley, a shadow peeled away from the wall. A creeping puddle of darkness that merged and grew upward from the snow until it formed a jagged, faintly humanoid shape, faceless and gray, flickering into solidity as it paused to sniff the air.

Another shape peeled from the wall. Then one more. Now there were three creatures in total.

They must have known she was coming.

She had been betrayed.

But the safety of the living and the dead depended on her message getting through.

Three against one.

Her eyes narrowed as she reached into her bomber jacket and took out a heavy wooden cosh. She had to escape. There was no other option.

Against all odds.

Jake Green was still alive. At first, it had been easy being alive, a simple case of not doing deadly things. Not crossing the road without looking. Not putting your finger in the toaster. Not choosing the mystery-meat lasagna in the school cafeteria. Then, for a few short days a couple of months ago, it had suddenly been a lot more difficult. He had accidentally discovered he could see ghosts and had subsequently been sucked into the world of the Embassy of the Dead. From that point on, staying alive needed a more proactive approach, like stealing a camper van and going on the run with a spectral undertaker to try to prevent Fenris the fallen reaper from rising from the grave to bring forth an Age of Evil. That kind of thing.

He didnt like to think about Fenris. With the help of a few new friends, hed pretty much condemned Fenriss spirit to an eternity trapped in a severed finger. Jake hadnt had any choicehis life had been at stake and any sort of Age of Evil had seemed best avoided, if possible. So the world had been saved and Jake Green was still alive. But weirdly, as a side effect, the Embassy of the Dead had made him an Undoersomeone who helps ghosts resolve their unfinished business on the Earthly Plane so they can continue with their journey to the Afterworld. It wasnt a profession hed ever considered before and so far, despite a mysterious postcard summoning him to the Embassy of the Dead, it wasnt one he planned on following. It seemed safer to just stay at home, play video games, and push the postcard to the back of his mind.

Given that Jake had recently saved the world, you would think, in the grand scheme of life and death, being late for Thursday morning homeroom wouldnt be that important. Sadly, though, this wasnt the case. Life on the Earthly Plane went on. And thats why he was sitting at his moms breakfast table, shoveling cornflakes into his mouth as fast as physically possible.

His best friend, Sab, sitting across from him, was tilting his phone to control a game he was playing. Sab was less concerned with lateness.

Jake drank the last of the cereal milk straight from the bowl. A girls voice sounded from behind him.

I am appalled by your complete lack of table manners.

There was a pause. Jake placed the bowl back on the table.

Appalled but not at all surprised, the voice added flatly.

To those with the ability to see ghosts, Cora appeared to be an everyday schoolkidalbeit a slightly transparent one from an exceedingly fancy school, with a hockey stick in one hand and a straw hat on her head. Cora was a ghostone of those new friends who had helped Jake take down Fenris and stay alive. Jake had freed her from the all-girls boarding school shed been forced to haunt since the 1990s. Now she lived in the spare bedroom of his moms house. As a Possessora rare type of ghostCora was bound forever to a small silver trophy from which she could venture no more than thirty or so yards. It meant she was never far away, demanding that Jake take the trophy everywhere with him, hidden in his backpack. His only escape from her was to shut the lid. Then she was trapped inside. To be honest, he never did that, no matter how tempting it was. For one thing, hed never hear the end of it when he opened it again. But he also liked having her around, even if she was annoying. It got a bit lonely sometimes at home. Hed come to terms with the fact that his mom and dad werent ever going to get back together. It wasnt a perfect situation, but then again it hadnt been perfect when they were together either.

Cora had promised shed stay in her room this morning while Sab was here, but clearly she was already bored.

She leaned to one side and her hockey stick rematerialized under her to support her weight.

I dont know why your parents dont send you to boarding school. Then you would never be late. You might actually learn table manners, too...

Jake pushed away his bowl and wiped his mouth on his sleeve.

Youve come to talk about the postcard again, havent you? he asked.

Sab looked up. Huh?

Nothing. I was just talking to myself.

Sab went back to his game. Freak, he muttered.

It was a sign of affection.

Unlike Jake, Sab was completely insensitive to the presence of ghosts. He couldnt hear or see Cora. To be honest, when he was playing a game on his phone, he was pretty much insensitive to the presence of the living, too. Jake was quite surprised Sab had even heard him speak.