by Ike Hamill
CHAPTER EIGHT
Mike
“I WANT A REAL EXPERIMENT this time,” Mike said to Gary and Katie. “So far we have no hard evidence, no proof, two uncontrolled encounters, and countless failures.”
The three sat in the van at the mall parking lot. Before letting Gary drive them to their destination, Mike had requested that they establish some ground rules for the evening.
“We’ve got some killer personal experiences,” argued Gary.
“That means nothing,” said Mike. “You know that.”
“How do you propose we control things?” asked Katie.
“How well do you know these people?” Mike asked Gary.
“Friends of friends,” said Gary. “I’ve been to their house for parties and stuff. Not terribly well.”
“Would they trust you alone in the house?” asked Mike.
“Sure, I guess so. I didn’t really ask them,” said Gary.
Mike spun in his seat and answered Katie. “I think we ask them to leave. That will help us avoid the situation we had last time, and keep everything more scientific. Then, I think we should run a full set of tests before we turn on the amplifier. We’ll get an accurate baseline of any activity and figure out exactly what we’re dealing with.”
“Sounds good,” said Katie. “But how do we prevent things from getting out of control like the last time?”
“Yeah,” said Gary.
“I noticed something both times we had a response,” explained Mike. “There seems to be a threshold, below which we see nothing. As soon as we crossed that threshold, we triggered some kind of feedback loop, where the entity was self-sustaining. Even removing the power source didn’t help. The entity still had enough energy to affect physical objects.”
“We need a negative source,” said Gary. “Like a control rod in a nuclear reactor.”
“Perhaps,” said Mike. “But we don’t have anything like that. I was thinking that we should at least try to establish the threshold and then creep up to that level, but not cross it.”
“Maybe my camera was working as the negative source,” offered Katie. “That thing in the water seemed to lose its grip when I took pictures, and the Loogaroo took off right after the picture of it.”
“You’re right about the river thing, but I’m not so sure about Loogaroo. She still fought us after the camera. She didn’t like fire,” Mike said. He trailed off, lost in thought for a second. “I wonder if we could create a wave that would cancel out the natural energy of a location. You know those headphones that you wear on an airplane?”
“Yes,” said Gary. “They sample the ambient noise and then cancel it by inverting the wave and broadcasting it back out. That only works if you have a single point where you’re trying to measure. You can cancel the noise for a point, like your ear, but anywhere outside that point is likely to just have twice as much noise.”
“That’s true,” said Mike. “We’d have to know exactly where the thing was going to be and then we might be able to focus negative energy right there.”
“Back to the camera,” Katie broke in. “Didn’t you guys say that the river creature let go right when it flashed? Maybe I just didn’t flash the Loogaroo enough.”
“It’s definitely something we can try,” said Mike. “We’re going to want pictures anyway. But we shouldn’t count on it just because of one observation.”
Katie crossed her arms.
“So we’re going to try to flirt with the threshold?” asked Gary.
“Yeah, I think so. And Katie will take pictures to see if that decreases the activity,” answered Mike.
“Let’s get going then, I told them we’d be there by eight,” said Gary.
* * * * *
“SO YOU BOTH FEEL like we have a full baseline?” asked Mike. They sat in the van outside a sprawling, nineteenth-century farmhouse with attached barn. The row of monitors and instruments measured various rooms of the house.
“I don’t get it,” said Katie.
“What do you mean?” asked Mike.
“We got a lot of video and audio of this place, but so what?”
“This is the normal activity without adding any energy,” said Mike. “I don’t understand what you’re asking.”
“We don’t know if we have anything or not,” said Katie. “You say these readings are just noise,” she said, waving at the equipment. “But how do we know that’s true? Any one of these spikes could be from something really interesting and unexplained, right?”
“It could be,” said Mike. “But you can see those same spikes anywhere. We’ve got readings like that from all over the place. These fields could be caused by faulty wiring or an appliance. This noise here,” he said, pointing at a line graph, “is likely a mouse moving in the walls.”
“So what are you trying to prove?” she asked.
“When we add an energy source we’re going to document any unnatural reaction,” said Mike. “If you’ve got a closed room and you add a space heater, you expect that room to get warmer, right?”
Katie nodded.
“Gary’s going to broadcast a certain energy at that basement, and we expect that we’ll just read that same energy here,” he pointed to a green dot moving across a scope. “But what we’ve seen is that we’ll actually get a decrease in that energy if there’s an entity there to absorb it.”
“Hardly seems scientific,” said Katie.
“Start with a phenomenon, try to explain it through other experiences,” Mike ticked off his fingers, “if that doesn’t work you form a conjecture, create a prediction, and then test.”
“I understand how science works. But how do you know it’s not just random, or happening for another reason?” she asked.
“We’ll run the same experiment somewhere else, where nobody has reported any phenomena, and see if it happens there,” said Mike.
“Can we just get on with it, Dr. Science?” asked Gary.
“Yes, let’s,” said Mike. “Why don’t you bring the amp online at fifty-five and a half, with zero power.”
“Got it,” said Gary.
“Okay,” said Mike. “Let’s ramp up really slowly. Katie? Can you monitor this display?”
“Sure,” she said.
“Look for any response that’s not commensurate with Gary’s increase here. Your display should drop one gridline for every tick Gary moves,” explained Mike.
“I’ll call it out,” said Gary. “I’m passing point one right now.”
Mike studied the video feeds from the house. He focused mostly on the unfinished basement, but also scanned the other rooms. His monitors automatically switched between views every three seconds, but he held a keyboard which directed the feed on the monitor in front of him.
A green view showed Mike the infrared information, and a multi-colored picture indicated the thermal characteristics. Finally, a dim, grainy, picture let him see the room from the moonlight coming through the windows of the old house. As he watched, the most exciting development was a swirl of dust lit up by the infrared emitters.
“Point two,” said Gary.
“Equal change,” said Katie.
“You can move just a tiny bit faster,” said Mike. “We didn’t see the river thing or the Loogaroo until we passed six point five.”
“Point three,” said Gary.
“Katie, you’ll have to decrease your scale there,” said Mike, pointing to a knob. “Counter clockwise.”
“Point four,” said Gary.
“Now you’ll be at one gridline for every five ticks from Gary,” Mike instructed.
“Yeah,” said Katie. “I get it.”
Mike returned to his video displays. He concentrated on the floor at the center of the cellar. They had pointed the cameras at the area indicated by the homeowners, but Mike always figured that the action would take place just outside the range of the cameras. A wave of dust passed in front of the lens of the infrared and Mike picked up his headphones. As he suspected, the furnace
had ignited, upsetting the dust.
As he watched, the thermal cameras also registered a change from the furnace. New details in the stone foundation emerged with the added heat. Mike imagined himself sitting on the dirt floor, smelling the musty cellar. A bright spot of color moved across the thermal image, but within a few seconds Mike recognized it as a scurrying mouse, darting in and out of the rock wall.
He removed his headphones just as Gary called out another number: “One point one.”
The three researchers sat frozen, the silence only broken as Gary called out each number. When he had reached ten point zero, he pulled away from his instrument.
“Should I keep going?” asked Gary. “I don’t think all the components are rated past ten.”
“We have a margin of safety, but if we haven’t seen anything yet, I doubt we will,” said Mike. “This is like all those failed attempts at the river. There must be some variable we’re missing. No discrepancy with the power levels?” he asked Katie.
“Nope,” she said. “This display matched Gary’s numbers exactly.”
“Huh,” said Mike.
“What’s with thermal two?” asked Gary.
“What do you mean?” asked Mike. “Oh that? The furnace has washed it out. We should remember that next time. The glare from the furnace when it’s on pretty much knocks out all the signal.”
“Should I go repoint it?” asked Gary.
“No, that’s okay,” said Mike. “I’ll do it.” He untangled himself from the wires and pushed back from his console. Before climbing out of the van he grabbed a radio from the rack and turned back to Gary—“Do me a favor: turn that thing down before I go in there.” He pointed to the amplifier. “Just in case I decide to have kids someday.”
Gary laughed but turned down the dial anyway.
As he strode across the yard, Mike checked in with his radio: “Hey, Gary?”
“Yeah,” Gary’s voice crackled over the walkie-talkie.
“When I get down there tell me where to point that camera.”
“Sure thing,” said Gary. “But you might want to turn off the thermostat on your way by.”
“Got it,” Mike opened the door to the kitchen of the dark house. He admired the homey simplicity of the country farmhouse and reflected on the thought of one day having kids. When he considered marrying and raising a family, this was the kind of house he saw in his mind’s eye.
“Do you know where it is?” he asked the radio, looking around the room with his flashlight.
“Try the living room, near the wood stove,” said Gary.
“Got it,” Mike said again. He pressed the button several times until he heard a click. Mike crossed back into the kitchen and found the door to the basement with his light. When he opened the door a low grumble from the bottom of the stairs made him jump.
The radio clicked. “I think it’s back on,” said Gary. “It might take a minute to turn off.”
“Thanks,” said Mike. “I can hear it.” He descended the narrow steps carefully, each tread sagging under his weight. Based on the age of the house and the condition of the stairs, he figured that the bowing treads predated him by more than a century.
Their equipment, set up amongst the cobwebs, made Mike feel comfortable despite the deep shadows and black corners.
Mike pressed the send button on his radio—“I’ll move the tripod a couple feet to the right?”
“Sounds good,” said Gary. “Yes, right there. Can you point it a little back to the left?”
Mike tucked his radio under his arm and guided the lens until Gary called out again—“Stop. Right there.”
“Hey Mike?” beckoned Katie over the radio.
“Yeah?”
“Can you move back towards the stairs for a second?” she asked.
“Sure thing,” said Mike. He backed up exactly three steps and paused, his light dancing around the old cellar, pausing on ancient shelves, pipes, cables, and the dirt floor as he waited to find out what Katie was interested in.
“Move back towards the camera?” she asked.
He complied and gave Katie the signal. “I’m here.”
Mike heard a click from his radio and then a muffled conversation before she communicated further—“Maybe you should come back out here.”
Mike backed away towards the stairs again and thought about the basement. Before experimenting with sending amplified energy towards the paranormal, he and Gary had spent countless hours in identical cellars and attics. Eventually, Mike had become completely inured to the experience; the fears of his childhood were driven away by equipment, measurements, and familiarity. Now, having had a couple of extraordinary encounters, he found his skittish nature had returned stronger than ever. He wanted to flee up the stairs to the safety of the van and his compatriots, but also wanted to re-conquer this shadowy terrain.
“Are you seeing activity?” he asked into his radio.
“Just a little,” said Katie, clicking off her radio between sentences. “Seems to increase when you get near the center of the room.”
“Maybe you’re just picking up me,” suggested Mike.
“Nope,” said Gary, after a pause. “This is definitely not you.”
“Is it constant? Are you amplifying at all?” asked Mike.
“No to both,” said Gary. “It doesn’t seem to sustain at all without you there, and we’re not adding any energy.”
“Hit it with the signal we gave before, and call it out over the radio,” suggested Mike.
He was answered with a long pause, but Gary’s voice came back before he could issue the order again. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” said Mike. “Just go slow and look for the threshold. I’ll stay near the stairs.”
“Wouldn’t it be … ” said Gary.
Mike waited through another long pause before interrupting—“You guys having a secret conference out there? Just give it some juice, but go slow.”
“Okay,” said Gary. “You ready?”
“Any time,” Mike said, impatient.
He heard the click of the radio and then Gary’s voice filled the silence—“Zero point one.”
Mike leaned back against the railing of the stairs; this process would take a while.
“Zero point two,” said Gary.
After a few more readings, Katie checked in too. “Still tracking linear,” she said. “Any activity?”
“Nope,” said Mike, but he wasn’t being completely honest with Katie or himself. When he scanned the flashlight around the dusty cellar, he felt the hair stand up on the back of his neck. He was only really comfortable when his light pointed at the center of the cellar’s dirt floor. Not having that area lit up made him feel like he was snorkeling amongst sharks.
“One point zero,” Gary announced eventually.
“Wait a second,” Mike broke in between Gary’s readings. “When you said the energy was tracking linearly, what about the delta from me being down here.”
“Yeah, um,” said Katie, “I meant it was linear including the delta from you.”
“Do you remember the maximum reading when I would get close to the center of the room?” Mike asked.
“Sure, I’ve got it written down,” answered Katie.
“Great,” said Mike. “Tell me if this delta is the same,” He took a deep breath and then strode to the center of the room. Gravity seemed to be working extra hard here. He felt pulled into the dirt.
“The delta is significantly higher,” said Katie.
“So you have a non-linear response?”
“Yes,” said Katie.
“Good,” said Mike. “I’m going back to the stairwell. Please resume when I get there.” He felt better—predicting and then observing a result made him feel in control of the situation.
“One point one,” said Gary.
Mike smiled. It suddenly dawned on him that his anxious feelings were perfectly normal. He was standing in a room with elevated electro-magnetic fields. Plenty of studie
s showed that those fields could make a person feel paranoid, fearful, or anxious. He was having a perfectly normal reaction to his environment.
His new hypothesis was bolstered by the heightened sense of fear he had felt in the center of the room: that was the nexus of the fields his van projected.
“Three point four,” said Gary.
“What happened to the twos?” asked Mike.
“Pardon?” asked Gary.
“Didn’t you just skip a bunch of numbers?”
“Nope,” said Gary. “I read each one. Problem with the walkie?”
“I don’t think so,” answered MIke. “I didn’t hear an extra long delay or anything.”
“Maybe you should come back,” suggested Gary.
“I’m fine,” said Mike.
Am I really? Mike asked himself.
“Keep going,” Mike ordered.
“Three point five,” said Gary. Then, after a short pause—“three point six.”
“Non-linear,” Katie interjected, nearly frantic. “Non-linear. Dial it back Gary. Mike, I think we’ve hit a threshold.”
“How much did it decrease?”
“Almost twice as much,” said Katie. “We can’t see the stairs, Mike. Did you move at all?”
“No,” said Mike. A wave of shivers rolled over him.
“I backed it off,” said Gary. “But the response is holding steady Mike. Can you see anything?”
“Nope,” said Mike, but he kept his thumb down on the send button because before he could finish the short word, he did see something. “Wait,” he whispered.
In the van, Gary and Katie heard only the quiet static of the open transmission, but Mike heard something different. Mike heard the slow avalanche of a sandy hole collapsing in on itself. He imagined he would hear nearly the same sound if were trapped in an abandoned coffin while the grave walls eroded and caved in.
In the center of his beam of light, which was still trained on the middle of the cellar floor, Mike saw a small cone-shaped hole begin to form, as if a whirlpool were sucking it down and away.
“I think there’s something down there,” he whispered into the radio. He let go of the button.
“Mike? Mike?” yelled Gary.
At the sound of Gary’s voice, the three-inch hole stopped growing.
