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[Ghst] Chapter 14: Gun Safety
🕑 Added 2025-06-14 04:01:19 +0000 UTC“Treat every weapon like it's loaded. Keep your finger off the trigger, and don’t point the weapon anywhere you don’t want a bullet to end up buried in. That includes sticking a pistol in your jeans.”
“Alright, alright. I bought a holster. Get off my as— butt.”
“Feet shoulder-width apart, keep your knees slightly bent.
Noelle frowned as she watched Evantra correct herself, taking the stance that Officer Foster had taught her to adopt.
“You know… I’ve found this weird for the longest time, but do you have a thing against swearing or something? I mean yes, you’re a church girl, but I’ve also seen you tear apart Veil creatures with lead.”
Evantra just brushed off Noelle’s words as she zeroed into her target in the distance. She had a habit of jerking the trigger, throwing off her aim at the last second, which she was trying to iron out.
“Your parents never took you to a range?”
Officer Foster raised an incredulous eyebrow at Evantra as she snorted.
“My parents? They’d sooner send me out into the lost territories with a water gun.”
The man smiled.
“Good folk, huh—”
His words were interrupted with a flurry of gunfire as Evantra unloaded her pistol into the target in the distance. Noelle and Officer Foster watched open-mouthed as all of her bullets found her target, in a tight grouping. Noelle and Officer Foster slowly forced their jaws shut, as Evantra laid down the smoking pistol on the table in front of her.
“N-not a fan of their parenting, I gather. Let’s leave it at that, then.” Officer Foster cleared his throat as Evantra turned to regard him.
“Any other tips for me?”
“You’ve got quite the talent for it. At shooting at targets thoughtful enough to remain still for you to shoot them. Although I suppose you were thrown into the deep end. You might want to practice with some of the moving targets over there, while I teach Noelle. Try not to get tunnel vision, and to make it a point to regularly assess your surroundings. If you’re fixated on your iron sights or scope, something can come out of left field and take your head off.”
Unlike Evantra, Noelle did not have an innate talent for handling firearms. Evantra was certain the girl had given Officer Foster multiple heart attacks in the short span of time they had spent at the range.
“Can I call you Trevor?”
The man scratched at his neck at Evantra’s question.
“Yeah, I suppose. Not on duty.”
“I’ve been wondering… what brought you to Wisptown? You aren’t like any of the other officers I’ve seen around… a far cry from them.”
Trevor let out a sigh.
“A voluntary transfer from Elsecaller city.”
Noelle and Evantra turned to him in surprise.
“You voluntarily chose to come to this shithole?” Noelle quickly turned to regard Evantra. “No offense.”
Evantra raised a finger as if to muster a response, but before she could begin, Trevor continued.
“Yes, I did.”
Noelle stared at him, her eyes wide.
“Why?”
The man let out a long sigh, turning to regard the target dummies in the distance.
“I was born in Elsecaller City… but you hear about Bastion and Wisptown,” the man ran a thumb over the badge in his grip.
“Police in Elsecaller have the best training, equipment and resources at their disposal, at least relative to the other stations. If you rise to a high enough rank, you even get to choose a cybernetic speciality, much like most mid-rank Ghostslayers, if they’re lucky to get a sponsor. That isn’t the case out here.”
“Then why?” Evantra interrupted Noelle before she could formulate her question.
“I felt like I was playing at the role. Ghostslayers handled the Veilsurges. If you were a cop? Maybe petty crime. The real nasty stuff could usually be traced back to megacorps, and it was heavily suggested that we turn a blind eye to the… incidents we came across.”
Evantra was tempted to tease the man, but the shadow that crossed his expression gave her cause to hesitate. His eyes had darkened, and his knuckles were white, as his fingers gripped his badge.
“You saw something, didn’t you,” her words coming out as a whisper. Trevor jolted, as if shocked, and turned to regard her.
“Are all you preachers that good at reading people? Yeah. I saw some stuff. Bad enough that I’d prefer to relocate to Elsecaller’s arsehole – no offence—”
Evantra stared flatly at him.
“—than to stay in my cushy position in the city. Here… I feel like there’s a need for me. Every action that you take has weight… even if it’s a double-edged sword at times.”
“You finally felt like you could live with yourself.”
Evantra and Trevor turned to Noelle in surprise, watching as the girl’s fists clenched tightly, her words delivered with an edge to them.
Evantra frowned.
What’s gotten her so worked up?
“Even if it meant that you could find yourself with no backup, in a place where corruption is something that you’d deal with on a good day. Megacorporations and their dark, dark ghoulshit,” Noelle whispered under her breath.
Perhaps for the first time since meeting Noelle, Evantra glimpsed something unfamiliar in her expression.
There was steel in her eyes.
Evantra turned to Trevor.
“Well, I for one am glad that you came down here. Still… you look a little worse for wear. Everything alright?”
The man sighed.
“We’ve been dealing with a string of murders.”
“Same old?” Evantra nodded with understanding, even as Noelle looked on incredulously at her nonchalance.
“Not the same old, actually. These aren’t the usual gang shootings.” Officer Foster’s forehead creased as he frowned, taking off his cap.
“The latest was an elementary school teacher. Single, killed in her home. Her body was only discovered when she didn’t turn up at school for a couple of days. No motive that we could gather. The same with the one before that – a childcare worker. No relationship between any of the victims.”
Then the man seemed to catch himself, as he looked up in alarm at Noelle and Evantra’s inquisitive expressions. He seemed to have forgotten just who he was speaking to, in his lethargy.
“Wait… Forget everything that I just told you.”
“What are the chances Caliburn is up to something?” Evantra tilted her head, her words evoking a nod from Noelle.
Trevor let out a long breath.
“Not the biggest fan of megacorporations, are you?”
“Who is?” Evantra shrugged.
“Well… if there’s one thing I learned in Elsecaller, there isn’t a corp out there that isn’t doing something shady. It’s a reasonable suspicion, when divorced from the context. But if they really wanted to, they could have erased their existence without a single lead, which wasn’t what happened in these cases. Worse, they could have waltzed in, painted their logo on the walls and self-reported, and they would have gotten off scot-free.”
Trevor winced as he recalled the crime scene.
“Despite our requests to the mayor’s— wait, I’m doing it again. Nope, no more. If Carmen finds out I’ve been telling you about mysterious murders, I’ll be the next one to turn up dead.”
Evantra’s eyes lingered on him before she eventually relented.
“Alright, but… if you ever need our help.”
“I would sooner throw myself into the ruins of Los Angeles than to prevail upon you two.”
Noelle winced as she muttered under her breath.
“I’ll try not to take that personally.”
“So… Trevor.”
The poor man paled further at Evantra’s abrupt change in tone. He got up from his chair and slowly started to back away from her.
“You still refuse to tell me how much I owe you for that treatment. More importantly, however…” Evantra’s eyes flashed.
“When are you planning on taking Carmen out for dinner?”
---
When they returned home, Evantra found Carmen seated at the dining table, her head in her hands. She was bouncing her leg restlessly, as she let out a long sigh. Evantra wordlessly motioned to Noelle to return to her room, as she approached the woman.
Carmen started, so deep in her thoughts that she hadn’t noticed Evantra’s approach.
“Hey you. How was shooting practice.”
Evantra could sense that there was something forced in the woman’s smile, but she would have been more surprised if there wasn’t. She couldn’t think of a world in which she would be eager that Evantra was pursuing the path that she was.
Still… I appreciate the attempt.
“Trevor, is an excellent teacher,” Evantra winked at her, attempting to dispel some of the Carmen’s concern. “What’s wrong, abuela, you look terrible.”
“It’s Lucas.”
Evantra took a seat the table next to her, watching as Carmen cast a tentative gaze towards her room. The dim, flickering light of the dining table was enough to illuminate the boy’s sleeping silhouette on the bed.
“Even with Juno doing his best, he was… distant today. Then when you left while the Caliburn reps were in, he snuck off, and they found him near the weapon lockers.”
Carmen sighed, and Evantra could see that her eyes were wet and drawn.
“The nearest child psychologist is in the outskirts. And…”
As Evantra watched the woman’s shoulders fall, she felt something burn inside her. A single session with a therapist could set her back multiple weeks worth of her wages.
With rampant privatisation with the rise of the megacorps, Panacea and Medica had curbed the market with their services, meaning that even basic treatment was offered at exorbitant prices.
Unless you subscribed to their plans, of course.
Not to mention, due to the scarcity of medical services out in the ‘rural provinces’, the waiting list for treatment could see them holding off for weeks or months on end.
Unless you paid a fortune to jump the queue.
“Carmen… I’ll settle it.”
“No—”
“Trust me. I’ll speak to him, and I’ll book us an appointment, and see to it that he speaks to a therapist as soon as possible, ok?”
“Money isn’t the issue Evantra… if only I hadn’t allowed him to search for that cat. I—”
Evantra pulled the woman into a tight hug, feeling Carmen’s tears moisten her neck.
“It wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known,” she said softly. “He’s your son. He’s strong.”
Evantra’s gaze hovered on her for a moment, before the woman averted her eyes, silent. Carmen didn’t need to utter a single word in query, for Evantra to comprehend the core of her concern.
Words that she was too kind to say to Evantra’s face.
She’s afraid he’ll take after me.
---
Then next morning, when Evantra rose, Lucas and Carmen had already departed for the junkyard. It seemed as if Juno was being especially accommodating agreeing to ‘keep an eye’ on Lucas, even offering to hire a nanny to keep watch over him, to ensure that there were no additional misadventures. She would have to speak to the boy when he returned.
They agreed to meet at the library to do a bit of research after Noelle’s shift. Despite how insistent she had been about prematurely quitting her job, Evantra had convinced her that they would only take the step once they saved up money doing bounties and night diving.
After all, there was no guarantee that she wouldn’t just die on their first run… and nothing was as important as financial security when you had landlords that raised lease prices like ghosts stacked up bodies.
The first thing she had searched for, was books on the “Ionian Mimic”. Despite coming up blank on the “Ionian” part, she had found a couple on Veilcreatures that discussed “mimics” more broadly, and she highly suspected that at least a few of her skills would be tied sacrificing them.
To her great fortune, it seemed like mimics took the form of mundane objects, and preferred to reside in places where they could easily disguise themselves. They were spoilt or choice in the Lost Territories, but the ones that wandered closer to the cities had one notable preference.
Junkyards.
I was very fortunate with my early catalysts.
I imagine that I could have easily ended up with some requiring me to sacrifice some obscure creatures or quests that I could go my whole life without encountering, given just how many Veilcreatures there are out there.
Evantra was drawn out of her thoughts by the arrival of Noelle, and she tried not to gawk. The girl looked like she had stepped out of a vintage spy thriller, dressed entirely in a figure-hugging black getup.
“Noelle… how much did you spend on that?”
“What?” the girl flinched defensively. “I’m just trying to get in the zone.”
Evantra sighed.
“I know, I know. I’m not coming out into the field with you. But we need to take this seriously. Anyway, work was quiet today, I’ve sourced some potential buyers for Carmen’s property. And shortlisted some jobs in the outskirts she would be qualified for.”
The girl handed over her tablet to Evantra with a smug expression.
“When you’re trying to solve unique problems, the trick is to go on forums. Someone out there has likely had the exact same issue you’ve faced in the past. That’s how I found the buyers—”
“It certainly seems like it… ‘why am I still single?’, ‘how to get boyfriend in slums?’, ‘my sort-of acquaintance hates me because I—”
“GIVE ME THAT!”
The girl blushed crimson, and every head in the vicinity turned towards the pair. A librarian looked up from her desk and shushed Noelle, who seemed to retreat into herself, her spy getup doing nothing to camouflage her.
Evantra scratched at her cheek, in confusion.
“Huh. Sort-of acquaintance. You should try changing that to colleague. Might have better luck.”
“Nevermind that!”
Noelle ploughed forwards, averting her eyes as she rapidly delivered the outcomes of her planning.
“I’ve been thinking about what we need that could help you in your hunts. A drone, first and foremost. Even the cheapest stims we could afford would be crucial. Panacea knock-offs will do, we can’t afford the genuine article. Lastly, some form of optical transmission, that would allow me to see what you do in real time—”
“No.”
Noelle stuttered, as Evantra shut her idea down. Eventually she relented, realising that the girl wasn’t budging on the suggestion. Noelle seemed to recall the lines that Evantra had drawn, and her excitement became noticeably more subdued.
“A-alright. Anyway, since we’re broke, you’ll have to play it safe. Once we slowly build up our repertoire and resources, you’ll be able to take more risks. We need to make this clear to Cypha, so that she doesn’t know that your presence there is equivalent to one of Caliburn’s Ghostlayers.”
“It’s superior.”
“Sure. Still… Evantra, you should consider telling me… just what your, ‘strengths’ are. If I know what you’re working with—”
“Assume I’m a mundane organic with a deathwish and advise me on that basis.”
She smiled serenely, even as Noelle blanched.
“Right. Totally mundane. Preachers get claws,” she whispered under her breath, turning away.
They left for Juno’s Junkyard, ready to tackle their very first night dive.
