A Ghost of Justice by Jon Blackwood Page B

Church.  For several minutes he turned the piece over, looking at it, thinking what to do with it.  Save it; but what good is a stash of money to him?  What to spend it on?  Of course, it came to him.  There was a bank of vending machines not far out of the way back to the cemetery.  A soda would do well after the sour taste left by the wine.  And would re-hydrate him better.
    Inside thirty minutes an empty can knocked lightly inside his pocket, chinking against the five almost useless dollars he got for change, as Hardy walked up to the hole in the cemetery fence and squeezed through.  A few minutes later he found himself staring up the hill.  He couldn't see their stone in the dark, of course, but he knew it was there and it gave him comfort.
    I should go up there , he thought, noting that this was his third night there.
    A heavy rumbling came to his ears.  Not far off, either, for he then felt it under his feet.  Must be the four a.m. freight on the riverside tracks.
    He turned from the hill and went to his den.  Maybe he would stop by next time.

 
     
     
    17
     
     
    Gradually Emily awoke, feeling and smelling the upholstery against her face, and realized someone was moving about.  Turning her head, she opened one eye.  Stark light from the kitchenette made her squint, turning the room into a mosaic of shadows and brightness.  Her father was clearing a place on the coffee table by the sofa serving as her bed.
    "It's about time you woke up.  How did you sleep?"  He walked around behind, out of her field of vision.
    "Uh," she grunted.  She turned all the way over, feeling thick and uncoordinated.  The air was cool.  It helped her to wake.
    Finding the window, she saw it was still dark outside.  An audio feed was softly playing.  "What time is it?"
    "Six."
    "Ohh, crap," she groaned.  Maybe she had four hours sleep.  "Why so early?"
    "I've been up half-an-hour.  Couldn't sleep anymore.  What time did you get to bed?"
    She looked around, his voice not coming from behind.  He had moved back into the kitchenette.  "Never mind that.  Is there any tea ready?"
    "Of course.  Hot and strong.  Irish black.  Be right there.  High today under thirty.  Rain likely."
    Emily finally pushed herself up to sit.  "What else is new?"  She rubbed at her eyes and ran her hand over her face.
    Eric placed tea, toast and eggs in front of her, then went back for his own.  Coming back, he repeated, "Sleep well?"
    "All right, I guess."  She yawned and added, "When I finally got to sleep."
    "And that--?  Eric nearly dropped his fork at the sound of frantic buzzing very close by.  "What the--"  He put the fork down and extended his arm so his watch came out from under the sleeve.  Putting his thumb on the left side, it stopped the annoying racket and swirled a hologram up.
    In an instant glowing green words materialized in the air before Eric.  They said:
                                             'CONNECTION MADE.
                                                    FILES SAVED:
                        Update of probable appearance, VF JH-16 JOHN HARDY
                        Latest sighting reports, VF JH-16 JOHN HARDY
                                           PRESS HERE TO OPEN.'
    Eric reached onto the virtual screen where indicated.
    The words whisked away and a full color 3-D image came up, showing Hardy's face with dark hair unkempt, growing long, and a scruffy short beard covering cheeks and chin.  Underneath was a scroll box listing a total of eight cities where persons matching the image had been reported.  Included in the list were the number of reports per city, with dates and a probability rating of the accuracy of each sighting.
    Two each were in Washington and Richmond, all of which were given a probability of .90.  Two more in Charlottesville