Phantoms

by Terence West

  "Tonight," Dawn stated, "at midnight. That's when this all ends if we can stop it. Otherwise, get used to living with evil demons that kill randomly and without remorse."

  "I'm not following."

  "The phantoms are performing a ritual tonight. It's called ‘The Ritual of Sevens’ and it can only happen every seventy-seven years on Halloween. To complete the ritual, they need seven hearts. They have that now, counting Enbaugh's. If they are allowed to continue unabated, they will become almost omnipotent in their powers. Right now, they have weaknesses, but if they finish… "she let Montoya's imagination fill in the blank. It was far more efficient in her opinion. "Look, I'm not saying stopping them will be easy, but we have no other choice. We can't let these things finish the ritual. It would mean the end of not only Stone Brook, but all of us."

  Montoya looked away from Dawn and back at Chloe. "We'll die, just like he did."

  "No," Dawn said compassionately, "if we stop them, we all have a fighting chance."

  "Please, Detective," Chloe pleaded. "Let us finish."

  Montoya shook her head. "I'm sorry. I can't. I have orders to follow, and that means this production is officially shut down, and your two minutes are up. Everyone out."

  "Goddamn it, Caroline," Dawn shouted, to the amazement of the entire crew. "You may be saving the lives of a dozen people, but you are throwing away tens of thousands. I hope you can live with that on your conscience." Dawn took a deep breath to try and get her rage under control. "Listen," she said after a moment, "I'm sorry Jack is dead, but you can't punish the rest of us for that."

  "I'm not punishing anyone!" Montoya shouted. "I'm saving lives!"

  "Like you couldn't do for Enbaugh."

  Montoya nodded as a tear appeared in her right eye. "Like I couldn't do for Jack." The tear jerked loose of her eyelid and rolled down her cheek. "He was my family," Montoya said quietly. "I'm not going to let those damned things hurt anyone else I care about."

  "Then help us," Bishop jumped in. "We can stop the phantoms tonight, once and for all."

  "I can't," Montoya said with a deep regret. "I have to follow orders and get you people out of here. It's my job."

  "And we're just trying to do our jobs, Caroline." Dawn took a step closer to Montoya. "Let us work. We can stop this. Then no one else will be hurt. We promise."

  "I'm sorry–" Montoya started, but was cut off by the slam of the garage door.

  Everyone jumped back, almost falling over each other. They hadn't realized they were that unnerved just by being there.

  "Jesus Christ," Rivers shouted from the back of the garage. "That about gave me a fucking heart attack!"

  Bishop looked up at the motor hanging from the roof. The chain had been disengaged from the motor, allowing the door to fall freely down. He wondered if the emergency pin had been pulled. Grabbing a nearby milk crate, he stepped on top and started to examine the door. Every automatic garage door came with a safety release pin, so that in case a pet or a child got trapped under the door and the sensors didn't detect them, someone could pull the pin and open the door manually. Bishop glanced over the rigging. The pin was still firmly in place, but the chain was broken. He lifted up the edge of the thin chain. It was smooth, appearing more as if it had been cut rather than broken. "I think it's been sabotaged."

  "By who?" Montoya asked. "Who would want to stay in this Godforsaken house with those things?" She realized she had just answered her own question.

  "They must've been listening to us," Dawn said with just a touch of paranoia. "They realize we're on to them."

  "That means they're here in the house," Bishop continued. "That also means the ritual will probably be performed here in the house." He thought about the implications for a moment. "They're going to kill us all."

  Montoya shook her head. "I won't accept that. It's just some kind of freak mechanical failure. If the chain is really cut, then the garage door should just lift right up." She let go of Chloe and reached down for the small silver handle at the base of the door. Tugging with all her might, she couldn't get the door to move. "Want to give me a hand here, Bishop?"

  Bishop nodded and knelt down next to Montoya. Sliding the edges of his fingers under the door, he lifted with his arms and knees, but couldn't get the door to budge. He fell back on the floor and tried to catch his breath. "Freak mechanical failure, huh?"

  "All right," Montoya said with determination. "I'll just go use the front door. There's got to be a way out of this place." She turned and started to charge, with Chloe in tow, toward the door leading into the house.

  "Wait," Carrie said, stepping in front of Montoya, "you can't go in there alone."

  "The hell I can't." Montoya pulled her pistol from its holster and cradled it in her hand. Taking a step forward, she peered into the darkened house and stopped. Mustering up all her courage, she stepped into the long hallway and followed it into the house. She stood quietly with her weapon drawn at the mouth of the living room, scanning the darkness. Digging deep, she relied on her police training and instincts to guide her across the living room. Spinning around, she checked the room behind her. Once satisfied, she reached behind and slowly wrapped her long fingers around the doorknob. She twisted it hard to the right, and was surprised when it smoothly answered. Pulling gently on the door, it didn't budge. Turning around, she applied more force to the door. Still nothing.

  "Fuck it," she finally said. "Take a step back," she warned Chloe. Aiming her weapon at the door, she fired several rounds into the metal handle until it was hanging loosely from its cradle. Sliding the gun between her belt and pants, she reached with both hands for the door and tugged again to no avail. "Fuck!" She turned back to Chloe. "Is there a back way out of here?"

  Chloe nodded. "Through the kitchen."

  Montoya grabbed the small chain between the handcuffs and led Chloe toward the kitchen through the dining room. Stepping in front of her prisoner, she lifted her weapon from her belt and held it tightly between both hands and pressed her back to the kitchen door. Taking a deep breath, she burst through it and quickly scanned the kitchen. It was completely empty. Glancing out the large windows, she could see Hurricane Katrina raging outside. She knew this wasn't the best place to be for long. Those windows would surely give before the night was over. She could already hear the branches of the oak trees tapping against them, soon, they would be banging against them, and then they would be inside. Step by step, she made her way quickly and quietly across the kitchen until she was standing in front of the back door. It had four panels of stained glass inset into it, creating an eerie light pattern across the floor around her.

  Reaching down, Montoya tested the knob. This one wouldn't turn at all. Flipping her gun around so she was holding it by the barrel, she swung it hard toward the glass, knowing it would break. The butt of the gun hit the glass and stopped. Nothing. She swung again with the same result. "What the hell is going on in this house?" she muttered to herself.

  Taking three steps back, she aimed her weapon at the glass and fired two rounds. No effect. That should've shattered the glass instantly. There was something definitely wrong here. Reversing her course, Montoya found Chloe standing right where she left her. Grabbing her by the arm, she led her back into the garage with the others.

  Dawn and Bishop were the first to look up. "How did it go?"

  Montoya shook her head. "We're stuck in this damned place."

  Bishop looked over to Dawn and voiced a silent ‘I told you so'. "What now, Detective?"

  "I don't know."

  "I do," Carrie cut in. "Let us do our jobs. We're back on the air in forty seconds."

  Montoya rolled the thought around for a moment. "All right," she said finally. "We're going to do this my way, though."

  "Fine," Chloe agreed. "Unlock the cuffs so I can work."

  Reaching into her pocket, Montoya produced a small, silver key. Sliding it into the locks, she removed the cuffs and returned them to her pocket.

  Chloe rubbed
her wrists for a moment. "Okay, people, places. We're on in ten." She quickly moved back to the booth and took her seat next to Jimmy. Trent and Jackson rounded up their equipment and made their way back into the house. Rivers and Carrie immediately followed them.

  Dawn and Bishop moved to Montoya's side. "What's the plan, Detective?" Bishop asked.

  Montoya smiled. "I thought you guys had the plan."

  Dawn and Bishop looked at each other with a smile. "You're with us then. We have to get in there. We're on in five seconds."

  The red light blinked on and Trent pointed his finger at Rivers.

  "Coming up in the next segment," Rivers billboarded, "we'll be talking with the members of the OPR as they take us through the house and show us the scene of the murders of an entire family. It should be fascinating," Rivers said with a smile. "For Ghost Chasers, Incorporated, I'm Rivers Gallows, and we'll be right back after these commercial messages."

  Chapter 28

  Cane had company. He wasn't sure who it was at first, but at least he knew it was human. Reaching out in the darkness, he felt a shaking, frightened body cowering in the corner. He had no idea when she had arrived, but she was alive. He could tell by the shallow, frantic breathing echoing off the cave walls. He placed his hand firmly in the center of her back to try and comfort her. "It's going to be okay," he said softly.

  The woman shrieked and pulled away from his touch. "Don't kill me! Please don't kill me! I'm too young to die," she beseeched.

  "I'm not going to hurt you," Cane eased in his soft British accent. "I'm stuck down here, just like you are." He thought for a moment. "I'm one of the good guys," he added, using the tired American cliché.

  "Who are you?"

  "My name is Cane. I'm from the Office of Paranormal Investigation."

  The woman perked up. "You work with Nick Bishop?"

  "Yes," Cane said with a smile. "How did you know that?"

  "I'm Kelley. Kelley Windel. Nick came and talked to me while I was in the hospital."

  "Oh yes, I remember. You were one of the girls who was–" he quickly bit his tongue. Shouldn't be dredging up painful memories like that. "I know who you are, Kelley," he corrected himself.

  "Where are we, Mr. Cane?" Kelley asked in a meager voice.

  "I'm not really sure," Cane admitted. "Some kind of cave as far as I can tell."

  Silence ensued between the two. They were both glad to have someone with them, but they didn't know what to say. The sound of them adjusting on the cold rock floor echoed off the hard walls of the cave and amplified it. Each scuff, each movement became a roar of sound in their cramped prison cell. It was too much to bear. With each noise, they both worried it would bring the phantoms down on them. They both resolved themselves to sitting motionlessly in silence.

  What do you say to someone you're going to die with? Cane wondered.

  The same thing you'd say to anyone else, Kelley answered.

  He could hear her clearly speaking in his mind, but he knew she hadn't spoken a word. "How did you do that?" Cane asked out loud.

  I've been able to do it since I was a child. Not really sure why, Kelley replied with her mind.

  You're telepathic, Cane thought.

  Yes.

  "That's most incredible." A thought formed in his mind. He leaned forward to ask, but he realized Kelley was already answering it.

  I have read their minds.

  "What did you see?"

  Kelley shuddered. It’s horrible in there. Just darkness with an occasional thought surfacing. I looked into one of the phantom's mind earlier and thought I was going to get trapped in it. The darkness is completely pervasive. It swallowed me whole and I got lost in the madness that is their minds. It's like swimming in dark water, where I couldn't touch the bottom and couldn't see the shore. It's a feeling of complete and total hopelessness.

  Did it reveal anything to you? Cane found himself asking questions mentally. He had worked with telepaths before and found it much faster than speaking. You just had to watch what you thought around a telepath. A stray thought could get you in a heap of trouble.

  Yes, Kelley said quickly. I know who they are, and what they want.

  Cane's eyes widened. What?

  Us, she answered gravely, but more specifically, our hearts.

  Why?

  Their minds are almost unfathomable in their darkness, Kelley stated as a precursor to her following statements, I couldn't find everything, but I did hit upon a few strange thoughts. They're after people with special gifts, like mine. They plan to perform a ritual that involves transferring our power to them.

  For what purpose? Cane asked.

  From what I could gather, they think this ritual will make them almost godlike. They will become unstoppable.

  The three horseman of the apocalypse, Cane thought with disdain. How does the ritual work?

  Kelley shook her head. I’m not clear on that one. I just know it involves our hearts and it has to be completed tonight. The window of opportunity only comes around every so often.

  What are they? Ghosts? Dead cultists brought back to life?

  They aren't ghosts. They can be stopped, Kelley answered. Apparently, they all died performing this ritual seventy-seven years ago. They then, somehow, escaped hell and returned to finish their work. They are more like a demon than ghost, Kelley essayed, but are kind of a hybrid of the two. They have the weaknesses of a demon and the abilities of ghosts. She started to adjust her body, but quickly stopped when she heard a scraping noise. That wasn't me.

  We're not alone, Cane agreed.

  "Stop wasting it!" A raspy voice boomed from the darkness, then two red eyes blinked into existence. "Stop wasting the girl's power!" The phantom lashed out and drew his claws across Cane's face.

  Cane recoiled in pain, warm blood spilling from his new wounds. He watched with a mixture of terror and amazement as the two red eyes disappeared into the blackness. "That was interesting," Cane spat cynically.

  "Are you all right?"

  "Yeah," Cane said as he tried to stop the bleeding, "but I don't think the warranty is valid on me anymore. We need to stop this ritual."

  "I know," Kelley replied seriously, "but how?"

  "How far can your telepathic powers reach?"

  "I'm not sure," Kelley replied. "Why?"

  "Do you think you can get a message to Dawn and Bishop and lead them to us?"

  "I don't even know where we are. How am I going to lead them to us? It's not like they can follow the sound of my voice. It'll be in their heads."

  "At least let them know we're still alive," Cane countered.

  "Okay," Kelley said slowly. "Give me a minute."

  Pressing her hands to the sides of her head, she began to focus her energy. Clearing her mind, she retained only the names of Dawn and Bishop. Hear me. Cane is alive.

  ****

  Bishop glanced down at his black metallic flashlight. Clicking the button, he watched as the bright beam of light sliced through the murky darkness of the Grant House. Tapping the button again, he slid the flashlight into his back pocket. He just wanted to make sure everything was in working order before they went upstairs. He didn't know what to expect. He glanced over at Dawn. The two were standing at the rear of the living room, their backs to the staircase. She was fidgeting nervously with her flashlight, waiting to go on the air. Then it hit him like the last fragments of an echo at the bottom of a canyon. He strained his ears in the silence for a moment.

  "Did you just say something?" Bishop asked Dawn.

  Dawn turned to her partner and shook her head, "No, but I just heard something, too."

  "What was it?" Bishop wondered.

  "I don't know. Maybe a phantom's trick."

  "I don't think so," Bishop said. "It sounded feminine. It said Cane was alive."

  Dawn nodded. "We'll find him."

  Rivers was about to bring them back from the third recorded segment of the program and take the crew upstairs. Carrie was standing beh
ind Trent with a coil of cables in her hand, while Jackson was steadying his boom above Rivers’ head. Rivers was sucking the last drag of nicotine out of a demolished cigarette as he waited.

  "We're back in fifteen seconds," Chloe announced over the headsets.

  Dawn pointed to a black box sitting just beyond Rivers. "Our equipment. I forgot it was in here."

  Bishop slowly made his way to the box and knelt down in front of it. Popping the latches, he flipped open the top of the hard plastic case. There wasn't much equipment left inside from their earlier venture, but some of it would do nicely. He lifted out another Electromagnetic Field Meter and a slick, white Air Ion Counter. Closing the lid of the box, Bishop returned to Dawn's side. He quickly handed her the Air Ion Counter and the notepad. Slipping the tape measure into his jacket pocket, he flipped the switch on the EMF Meter. The needle jumped to life and he heard the familiar crackling noise from an internal speaker.

  "I'm already getting high readings," Bishop warned them.

  "I'm surprised with all the paranormal activity in this house you can actually get a distinct reading. The needle should be buried as soon as you turn it on," Dawn said. Lifting her Air Ion Counter, she tapped a series of buttons on its face. "I'm seeing a high concentration of positive ions in this part of the house," she said, deciphering the digital readout on the counter. "It could be from the television equipment though." She snapped the counter off and slid it into her pocket. "I don't think these are going to do us any good."

  "Any little edge will help," Bishop said positively. He looked up to see the red light flicker on.

  "Welcome back to our special live Halloween edition of Ghost Chasers, Incorporated. I'm Rivers Gallows. We're coming to you live from Stone Brook, Florida from the scene of a grisly triple murder. Local law enforcement officials reported seeing a pair of glowing red eyes in the house, leading us to believe this case was supernatural in origin. As we told you at the top of the show, we have two very special experts joining us tonight from the Office of Paranormal Research, Dawn Lassiter and Nick Bishop." Rivers turned to greet Dawn and Bishop. "Can you tell us your theories on this case?"