And then, incredibly, he could see again. A great Light blazed up within him, filling him from top to bottom, and burst from his eyes. The demons screamed in rage and horror to see it, and fell back, unable to face the terrible Light that blazed from JC’s miraculously restored eyes. And still the Light blazed through JC, growing stronger and more terrible, building and building until it seemed impossible one small mortal frame could hold it all. The Light healed and restored JC, repairing all his wounds in a moment and filling him with incredible new energy. JC stood tall and strong in the middle of the car, surrounded by weeping, terrified demons, crouching and shrinking away from him; and he laughed in their terrified faces.

He hadn’t called for the Light, or expected it; but he had heard of such things. That sometimes, on very rare occasions, there was a Light that would come as a gift from Outside, from some great Force in the afterworlds . . . but it was rare, so very rare. Certainly he had never thought of himself as worthy. But the Light was there, and it was his to use, and he was strong and whole again. He looked about him, and thought he’d never seen so clearly before. He raised his hands, and they were both whole again. He dropped the pitted and scorched knuckle-duster. He didn’t need it any more. He strode forward, towards the end car, and Kim.

Some of the demons tried to fight him, only to quickly learn they couldn’t. They couldn’t face the Light that shone from his restored eyes or match the new strength that filled his arms. He beat them down, shattering their bones and tearing their foul bodies apart with his bare hands. His touch was enough to blister and burn demon flesh; and even their strongest blows couldn’t hurt him any more. The Light blazed ever more fiercely within him until all he had to do was touch the demons, and they burned up in a moment, leaving nothing behind but ashes.

Most of the remaining demons disappeared. They ran away, falling back into Hell rather than face what he had become. By the time JC reached the end of the car, the light from his eyes was enough to make the last few demons fade away into nothing, like the final remnants of a bad dream.

JC looked at the closed door before him, and it melted and ran away in streams of molten metal. The door beyond, into the next car, exploded inwards under the pressure of his gaze. And so he came at last to the end car, and there, waiting for him, was Kim Sterling. No more demons, no hell light. Only Kim; crucified against the end door. Glowing ectoplasmic nails hammered through her ghostly hands and ankles. Her head hung down, her long red hair covering her face. She didn’t move. But when JC said her name, her head came up and she saw him, and she smiled. Their eyes met, and the Light in JC’s eyes blazed so very brightly.

The glowing nails disappeared under JC’s gaze, and Kim’s ghostly flesh repaired itself at once. She flew down the car towards him, her long white dress billowing in some unfelt breeze, and JC walked in glory down the car to meet her. They came together in the middle, and the whole of the car was full of their love, a force so powerful it seemed to beat on the air like great wings.

JC reached out to her, and she put out her hands to take his; and his fingers passed right through hers. Because he was alive, and she was dead, he was flesh and blood and she was just a ghost; and because there were some things even the Light could not change.

They stood together, as close as they could get, looking into each other’s eyes. The Light didn’t bother Kim at all.

“We can never touch,” said JC. “But we have each other.”

“You say the sweetest things,” said Kim. “You sentimental old softy. I knew you’d come for me. I knew they could never stop you.”

“Well,” said JC, “I’m glad one of us was sure.”

They laughed quietly together. The train roared into a station and skidded to a halt. The doors opened, and JC and Kim stepped out onto what appeared to be a perfectly ordinary platform. No demons, no webbing, no illusions . . . and no-one tried to haul Kim away again. JC had broken that hold. When they looked behind them, they found the train had gone. Not departed; disappeared.

The Light within JC suddenly died down and was gone. He wasn’t surprised. Such gifts were never granted for long. JC didn’t think he’d miss it. He preferred being human, with its small but real comforts and rewards. He smiled at Kim, and she smiled back.

EIGHT

BLOODBATH

There are some advantages to being a ghost. Kim discovered that by concentrating in a certain way, she could change the colour of her dress; and after that, there was no stopping her. Her long white dress went through a dozen different colours and styles, and then as many completely different outfits, as Kim imagined herself wearing all the expensive and stylish clothes she’d never been able to afford. She finally settled on a marvellous off-the-shoulder emerald-green creation she’d once seen in a shop window that went well with her eyes and contrasted nicely with her mane of red hair. JC had to insist she stop there, as he was getting dizzy. They were still laughing quietly together when Happy and Melody burst through the entrance beside them.

JC grinned widely to see them both safe and well but was somewhat taken aback when Happy and Melody stopped abruptly in their tracks and stared at him with something very like shock. His first thought was that they were surprised at Kim’s presence; but no, they only had eyes for him. Melody in particular was looking at him as though he’d just risen from the grave.

“JC, what happened to you?” she said, open horror in her face and in her voice. “Your clothes are . . . All that blood . . . Who did this to you?”

“Hell with the suit,” said Happy. “JC, what happened to your eyes?”

JC glanced at Kim, then back at his colleagues. “What’s the matter with my eyes?”

“They’re glowing,” said Happy. “And not with any kind of light I’ve ever seen. It’s so intense, it’s like looking into a spotlight. Or possibly the headlights of an on-coming car. Those are spooky eyes, JC.”

“Are you dead?” Melody said abruptly. “Is that why you’re hanging out with a ghost?”

“Of course he’s not dead!” said Happy. “I’d know if he were dead. This . . . is altogether more disturbing.”

“But look at how much blood he’s lost!” said Melody. “Look at the state of his marvellous ice-cream suit! It looks like a pack of wild dogs tried to bite it off him.”

“I have wrestled with demons and defied a god,” said JC. “That kind of thing does take it out of you.”

“He has,” said Kim. “He really has. And all for me. Isn’t he wonderful?”

“Hold everything,” said Happy. “You can see us? You’re aware of the world around you? When did that happen?”

“A lot has happened since we . . . became separated,” said JC. “Kim, allow me to present my friends and colleagues from the Carnacki Institute: Happy Jack Palmer and Melody Chambers. My friends, this is Kim Sterling. Happy . . . what happened to your face? Did someone take a swing at you?”

“Yes,” said Happy. “I did. But don’t change the subject. What happened to you?”

“I rescued Kim from the grip of our unseen enemy,” said JC. “And . . . we’re an item now. Don’t ask me how that happened. I think we’re both equally baffled.”

“And delighted,” said Kim, reproachfully.

“Oh yes, delighted, absolutely,” said JC. “I was making the point that it rather sneaked up on us when we weren’t looking.”

“Isn’t it always like that?” said Kim. She smiled sweetly at Happy and Melody. “I’m glad JC has friends. He’s going to need a lot of help and support, now that he has a ghost for a girl-friend.”

“That’s the spirit,” said JC.

“Oh you,” said Kim. She elbowed him playfully in the ribs, but her arm passed swiftly through him.