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orange or yellow in color, but were all a dull gray. He just hoped it was in Bellevue Logistics Park.

Warehouse workers were going about their business on forklifts or on foot, checking inventory. He scurried on all fours to the other side of the trailer. He couldn’t see anyone near the truck’s cab. Cautiously, he got out from under the trailer, turning to his left, toward the rear of the truck, where he could see into the warehouse. There was nobody close by, mortal or otherwise.

“Hello, John!” a voice said behind him.

John immediately spun around and saw the figure of a large man wearing a denim jacket, jeans, and square-toed boots. He looked hardened in both face and body, but it was the eyes that were most intimidating—they were glowing orange and staring at him.

John felt rooted to the spot, uncertain what to do. Had Santiago found him?

“Sleeping on the job, John?” the man said in a non-threatening tone, and a grin appeared.

This wasn’t what John had expected. He couldn’t help but look puzzled. Was this a trick?

The man continued. “It’s been fascinating following you!” His voice now changed, the baritone reduced to a softer tone, a more female one.

“You really are not having a boring afterlife...or is it a near-death experience? I guess we will have to wait and see.” At that point the man’s head started to faintly glow orange. The intensity of the glow gradually increased.

The face of the spirit within was about to show itself. First, the nose appeared, then the brow, chin, mouth and eyes. It was the face of a young woman—a roguishly attractive face that he had seen before. It was Nikki, the spirit girl who had explained The Game to him.

“You again?” John said with frustration. “What do you want from me?”

“I’m just checking up on you,” she said as her head disappeared back into her host.

“What’s the matter, are you bored with all the mayhem you create? Are ratings down?” John said crossly.

The host twitched a half-smile. “It’s good that you still have your sense of humor. Many lose it.”

“I can believe that. What do you want?” John pressed.

“So, you’re trying to get into the Supreme Logistics Fulfillment Center, where El Gordito is manufacturing drugs, right?” the female voice continued.

“How did you know?” asked John, taken aback.

“That doesn’t matter, John. What matters is that you’re now in an electrical goods warehouse on the other side of the same logistics park as the fulfillment center. Once this truck is loaded with appliances, it’s taking those white goods to his fulfillment center. It seems he has suffered a few setbacks with labor.” The host’s eyes flashed and gave a knowing smile before continuing. “And with demand for the pills increasing, he’s resorted to buying appliances from companies closer to his center, like this one, which can deliver as soon as his new crew is ready for them.”

“So . . . you’re now helping me . . . to defeat Santiago’s spirit?” John stammered.

“Let’s just say your adventure has so far made an interesting little subplot which we want to conclude. Now, pay attention. This guy—my host—is your ride since he’s the truck driver,” she added as she stepped out of the man’s body. “Quick! he’s going to fall hard.”

The guy started to look disorientated and falter as her entire spirit form emerged. John rushed in to possess the man just as Nikki vacated him, making the host stand bolt upright. He regained his faculties just quickly enough to stick his hand out and grab the side of the truck to steady himself.

“Good save!” Nikki shouted enthusiastically. “Another hour and the truck will be stacked and ready to go.”

“I don’t know what to say,” said John.

“Don’t thank me yet,” she answered and disappeared through the trailer.

When the trailer’s cargo curtains had finally been pulled shut and strapped in place, just a few moments later, John’s host was handed some documents to sign.

As soon as they left the warehouse, John recognized that they were, as Nikki had said, already in Bellevue Logistics Park. The engine had hardly warmed when John saw the Supreme Logistics Fulfillment Center sign at the entranceway to the same large building he had seen before. There was a short queue of trucks, and not all the bays had trucks docked at them. Twenty minutes passed before the driver entered the delivery bay and was shown to an active dock.

A dispatcher approached the host and asked for his papers. “OK! We’ll start unloading you in ten, and then we’ll load you up with cargo for…” He paused, checking his tablet before confirming, “Detroit.”

That route would take John’s host through Pennsylvania and not through New York State, as John wanted. The nearest state border to be crossed on that route would be between New Jersey and Pennsylvania. Since the discovery of the drugs in any state other than New Jersey would draw federal attention, John preferred to find a truck and a route closer to home in New York state.

Fortunately, his host started to engage in some casual conversation with the dispatcher and came out with exactly the question John wanted him to ask without the need for any encouragement on John’s part.

“You guys cover the whole country from here?”

The dispatch guy seemed happy at the interest and obliged with a detailed answer. “Sure, Canada too! Right now, those four are going to Chicago, the two over there to DC, those three to Miami and the one at the end to Montreal.”

The number of bays in use might have dropped from the last time John had seen this place, but Lazlo was right: El Gordito was sending out the drugs to many of America’s main cities, and even into Canada. The trucks going to New York or even Boston must have already left. The next-best destination for John would be Montreal because you wouldn’t drive there from New Jersey without going through New York State. Just wouldn’t be done unless you wanted to

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