Older Ash immediately rejected the idea of camping inside the AIIB facility and waiting for Deadites to appear. "That's not how these things work. In my experience, they don't crawl straight out of the Book of the Dead like somebody opening a monster vending machine," he explained. "Once summoned, they can manifest somewhere in the surrounding area, find living people, possess them, and then start whatever nightmare they feel like starting."
Young Ash frowned as he considered the problem. "So even if we surrounded the book with guns, the demon could show up three blocks away, jump into somebody, and never come anywhere near us." Older Ash nodded. "Exactly. They're intelligent too, which means once they realize five lunatics with shotguns are waiting beside the book, they're under no obligation to come fight us."
That eliminated the easiest option. Ash glanced toward the still-active volume in older Ash's hands and asked, "Alright. You've spent decades dealing with this thing, so do you have another plan?" Older Ash hesitated for a second before reaching into his pocket and pulling out an old business card.
Ash accepted it.
BOOKS FROM BEYOND
He flipped the card over and raised an eyebrow. "That name isn't exactly subtle."
Older Ash shrugged. "The owner isn't subtle either."
"Who is he?"
"Lionel Hawkins. Occult bookseller, collector, professional weirdo, but a smart professional weirdo." Older Ash tapped the card with one finger. "Years ago, after I brought the book out of the cabin, I went looking for anyone who knew what the writing meant. Lionel had spent most of his life collecting books on demonology, ancient religions, dead languages, curses, possession, all that cheerful stuff."
Young Ash looked toward the Naturom Demonto. "He can actually read it?"
"Not all of it." Older Ash shook his head. "But I showed him a few copied symbols and phrases once, and he translated enough of them to prove he wasn't guessing. He never saw the whole book, though."
Ash examined the card again. "Someone taught himself enough occult linguistics to translate fragments from a demonic book written in a language almost nobody understands?"
"Pretty much."
"That's either impressive or deeply unhealthy."
"Both can be true."
Amanda had been listening nearby and finally stepped forward. "Then why are we still standing here? If he might know how to close the book, we should go now." Young Ash nodded almost immediately, because there was little benefit in waiting while the book remained active. "Fine. We move."
The advantage of working for a federal organization became obvious again within minutes. Instead of driving across several states in older Ash's RV, Ash contacted the New York Branch and had transportation arranged directly through the AIIB. The five of them—young Ash, older Ash, Pablo, Kelly, and Amanda—were put on a direct flight to Michigan, while separate logistics personnel handled the RV.
A few hours later, the group stood across the street from a strange little bookstore in Michigan.
Ash looked toward the others with a satisfied smile. "Fast, right?"
Older Ash scratched his cheek. "We took a plane."
"That was the point."
"That's just normal airplane speed."
Ash ignored him. "The government got us from New York to Michigan in a few hours and arranged transportation without us doing anything. That counts."
Older Ash glanced behind them. "My RV is still in New York."
"They're shipping it back."
"You trust government people with my home?"
Young Ash looked at the battered RV-shaped lifestyle he had witnessed so far. "I'm pretty sure they can't make it worse."
Kelly covered a laugh while Pablo pretended not to hear.
The five crossed the street toward Books from Beyond.
Far away in New York, someone else arrived several hours too late.
A burgundy Dodge muscle car rolled to a stop outside a roadside bar near the area where older Ash's RV had recently been parked. The driver's door opened, and a tall blonde woman stepped out with the controlled confidence of someone who had spent far too much time dealing with supernatural disasters. She wore dark leather, carried herself like she expected trouble, and immediately began scanning the area for the man she had been chasing.
Her name was Ruby Knowby.
A drunk man leaving the bar noticed her and made the mistake of interpreting her silence as an invitation. He stumbled closer with a grin and said, "Hey, beautiful. Buy you a drink?"
Ruby did not even bother answering.
She grabbed the back of his head and slammed his face against the hood of the Dodge.
The man collapsed unconscious beside the car.
Ruby brushed her hands together and continued looking around. "Wrong night."
She opened the passenger door.
A dirty piece of cloth sat on the seat.
Ruby pulled it aside.
Something moved underneath.
A severed human hand crawled out.
Older Ash's missing hand.
The thing immediately raised itself on its fingers and pointed toward the street ahead. Ruby followed the direction and spotted an AIIB logistics vehicle hauling older Ash's RV away.
Her expression darkened.
"You have got to be kidding me."
The hand continued pointing.
Ruby walked closer to the road, but the moment the RV disappeared from sight, the hand hesitated. Its fingers twitched several times before slowly turning in another direction.
Back the way Ruby had come.
Toward Michigan.
Ruby stared at it.
"No."
The hand pointed harder.
"You mean that idiot already went back?"
The severed hand tapped the dashboard impatiently.
Ruby's jaw tightened. "I drove all the way from Michigan to New York, and now he's already going back to Michigan?"
The hand remained completely innocent.
Ruby grabbed it and threw it against the passenger window.
It struck the glass, bounced directly back, and landed against her face.
The fingers immediately spread across her cheek.
Then they squeezed lightly.
Once.
Twice.
Ruby froze.
The hand squeezed again.
She ripped it away and glared at it. "Seriously?"
The fingers curled defensively.
Ruby stared at the severed limb with growing disgust. When she had first found it, the hand had not behaved nearly this badly, but there was still some strange connection between it and Ashley J. Williams. Over time, the thing had apparently begun picking up far too much of its former owner's personality.
"You don't even have a brain."
The hand flexed.
"That somehow makes it worse."
Ruby tossed it back onto the passenger seat. "Lead the way."
The hand immediately pointed toward Michigan again.
Ruby climbed behind the wheel, slammed the door, and started the engine.
The Dodge roared away from the curb.
Back in Michigan, young Ash and the others entered Books from Beyond.
The interior looked nothing like a normal bookstore. There were no bright displays of bestsellers, colorful novels, or neatly arranged new releases. Instead, towering shelves reached nearly to the ceiling, packed tightly with thick leather-bound volumes, cracked reference books, handwritten reproductions, old religious texts, and obscure works on subjects most people would rather avoid.
Ash slowly looked around.
Titles dealt with Hermeticism, Kabbalah, demonology, possession, ancient funerary traditions, witchcraft, forgotten religious movements, forbidden languages, and regional folklore. Several books looked old enough that Ash wondered whether they belonged in a museum rather than a private store. Others were so strange that he suspected even the AIIB archives might not contain copies.
Pablo looked impressed. "Okay. This place is awesome."
Kelly glanced at him. "That's exactly how people get cursed."
"No touching. Got it."
The store appeared empty.
Older Ash walked farther inside and raised his voice. "Lionel! You still alive back there?"
For several seconds, nothing happened.
Then a curtain behind the counter moved.
A bearded man emerged from the back room holding a thick open book in both hands, looking mildly annoyed at being interrupted until he recognized the visitor.
His expression immediately changed.
"Ash?"
Older Ash grinned. "Long time."
Lionel Hawkins closed the book he had been reading and hurried toward the counter. "How have you been?"
"Still alive."
"That's genuinely surprising."
"Everybody says that."
Lionel laughed, then suddenly remembered something. His eyes brightened. "Wait. Did you bring it?"
Older Ash glanced toward young Ash.
"Yeah."
Only then did Lionel notice the rest of the group standing behind him.
"Oh. Sorry. I didn't realize you brought company."
"They're with me." Older Ash gestured casually toward them. "Long story."
Young Ash stepped forward. "Very long."
Older Ash placed the cloth-wrapped volume on the counter.
Lionel stopped moving.
His entire expression changed.
Slowly, carefully, he pulled away the covering.
The grotesque human face molded into the Book of the Dead appeared beneath the store lights.
Lionel forgot everyone else existed.
"No way."
He leaned closer.
Older Ash nodded. "Way."
Lionel immediately switched on a mounted magnifying lamp beside the register and pulled it over the book. He examined the cover, the edges, the bindings, and the strange material with the intensity of a scientist finally seeing proof of something everyone else considered impossible. His hands actually trembled when he moved closer.
"This is it."
He looked at older Ash.
"This is really it."
Older Ash nodded again.
"The skin-bound book."
Lionel stared at the distorted human face on the cover.
For years, everything he had studied had been based on copied fragments, secondhand descriptions, obscure references, and tiny samples of symbols older Ash had once shown him. Now the actual artifact sat directly on his counter.
Lionel's breathing quickened.
"All my research..."
He slowly looked around at the thousands of occult books surrounding him.
"All those years."
His eyes returned to the Book of the Dead.
"I was right."
A broad, almost disbelieving smile appeared beneath his beard.
"This proves it."
Lionel placed both hands on the counter and stared at the ancient volume with something close to reverence.
"My entire life's work wasn't meaningless."