Johnny Graphic and the Etheric Bomb Read Online Free PDF Page B

you to.
    For the first sixty years of his death the colonel felt cut off from anything vaguely meaningful. He’d wished many a time he could kill himself—and have another chance at dying properly. Which, alas, he could not do. And if you don’t vanish into the great unknown, you’re trapped in the ether forever.
    Then he had met someone up the shore of Great Lake, north of Zenith. About ten years ago. Someone alive. Someone who changed everything for Horace MacFarlane.
    He remembered that moment as if it were yesterday. He had been sitting on a jagged gray boulder when he heard a small voice say, “Hello, mister. What’s your name?”
    Looking up, he saw a skinny young girl standing before him, perhaps six or seven years old, in a summer frock of pastel green. She had sad hazel eyes, with little flecks of amber. There was a spray of freckles across pale cheeks, and she wore long black hair plaited down her back. The colonel’s heart had stopped pumping six decades before, but he could have sworn that it started up again when the girl talked to him.
    “Colonel Horace MacFarlane,” he had said, standing up to his full six feet. He doffed his campaign cap and bowed. His blue officer’s jacket had holes and blood stains from the shrapnel that had killed him. He observed with interest that the child didn’t seem scared.
    “And to whom do I have the pleasure of speaking, young lady?” he asked.
    “Melanie Graphic.”
    “Very pleased to meet you,” the ghost said.
    Melanie Graphic kicked at the pebbles underneath her feet. “We’re having a picnic down the beach, Colonel. Want to meet my mom and dad and little brother? They can see ghosts, too.”
    “I would be honored,” the old soldier replied.
    It had been absolutely the best day of Horace MacFarlane’s afterlife.
    And as he finalized the Brigade’s defenses, the colonel was determined that tonight should be the best night.
    The lives of Commander Melanie and Master Johnny depended on it.
     

 
    Chapter 8
    “Why does that kid have a camera?” Captain Merrick asked, finally noticing Johnny’s Zoom 4x5. “I don’t allow pictures to be taken on my flight deck.”
    “My brother’s a news photographer for the Zenith Clarion ,” Mel explained.
    Upon hearing that, the captain gave Johnny one of those disapproving looks that he knew so well. He’d seen it many times since he’d started in the newspaper game. He could almost read her mind: Why aren’t you in school? You’re missing the best years of your life, young man. Johnny was so tired of that attitude.
    “I’d really like to take a few shots,” he explained. “This is big news, Captain. Just a couple of pictures of you and your co-pilot. If we make it through, you’ll be glad you agreed.”
    The co-pilot prodded Captain Merrick in the shoulder. “Let him take his pictures, Hilda. Can’t do any harm showing the heroic pilots at work, can it? The boss might even like it.”
    Johnny took the co-pilot’s point and hammered it home. “It’d be a swell thing to have for the history books. I mean, this attack is a big deal and everyone’s going to want to see a photo of you and your co-pilot, Mr. ummm—”
    “Officer Danny Kailolu,” the young co-pilot said.
    “All right, all right,” the captain agreed with a frown. “Just a few shots. That’s all.”
    Johnny understood only too well that this was no comic book adventure. If the Steppe Warriors took out two more engines, the big flying boat would go down—with Mel and himself and everyone else on board. But that didn’t mean that he should stop doing his job. If everyone survived, he knew these shots could end up on front pages all around the world. And the two pilots would be big heroes.
    He squeezed by Melanie in the dim, cramped cabin, sneaking another peek at her fuzzy upper lip. He groaned under his breath, regretting his stupid prank. How was it she hadn’t noticed yet?
    Johnny held the Zoom 4x5 up over his head, aimed down at