Mumbles rolled through the crowd and Greg looked at Sam. She just shrugged, uncertain what to believe.
"I'm sure you have all noticed the helicopters flying in and out of the valley-"
"I've only seen one helicopter," Shells interrupted.
"There have been more," Michael said, "but you were only supposed to see one of them; so it's not surprising that you haven't seen the others. I'm betting at least one of your companions, on the other hand," he said with a look at Sam, "have seen at least one more. Am I correct?"
Sam nodded silently, and Shells' jaw dropped open, an accusatory look on her face.
"The truth is that there is no forest fire. The helicopter that most of you have seen is being used for surveillance and the fire is but a ruse. All of us are being watched."
"OK, now you're really freaking me out," Shells said. "Spill it, Mikey. What the hell is going on here?"
"I can't be certain, but I'll tell you what I know and what I think is going on. First, let me ask how many of you have noticed the excessive number of military and police personnel in the area?"
About half of those assembled raised their hands.
"It's not by accident or coincidence," Michael continued, "that much I can guarantee you. Something is going to happen here, but I don't know what. I think all the military types are here to cover up whatever it is. Mark my words; they are going to evacuate Lake Lure and soon."
Again his words caused a murmur to rise from those assembled.
"If you want to see what they are trying to hide, you are going to need my help. Before I tell you any more, is there anyone here who does not want to know? Is there anyone here who wants to leave now or when the evacuation order comes?"
Silence hung in the garage, and no one raised their hands at first; but then the strawberry blonde stepped forward and raised a trembling hand. It took her a moment to find her voice.
"I'm scared," she said finally. "I did feel like I was drawn here, but I don't know if I want to stay."
"Don't worry, baby," Shells said, "I got your back."
The young woman flushed deep crimson and didn't immediately speak. After a few minutes and some reassurances from those around her she said, "I don't know if I could live with myself if I didn't stay to see what drew me here. Thank you all for your support. I'm still scared, but with all of you willing to help keep me safe, I suppose I could stay."
"This could be dangerous," Michael said, and the young woman looked as if she might reconsider. "But I don't think the military types are here to keep us from seeing what is to come; I think their purposes are quite different."
"What do you think is going to happen," Shells asked, and the rest seemed grateful that she asked the question that waited on their own tongues.
"I honestly don't know," Michael said, and he pushed on despite Shell's exasperated sigh. "Most believe Lake Lure was built to create a place where people with breathing disorders could come to breathe the fresh mountain air and to create a resort town; but I think it was created for a very different reason. I think it was created to hide something; something so important and powerful that it could affect the course of human history. There are many things around here that are not what they seem, and I think there is more truth to local legends than anyone would ever admit. I've talked to people who worked at Chimney Rock Park, and they have told me stories about a network of tunnels that run through the mountains themselves, and these are far more elaborate than what the moonshiners could ever have created. I've climbed Rumbling Bald and have been to the place where cold air always rushes from a mighty gash in the stone. I've seen the Brown Mountain lights. No one could convince me that these things are not real, especially since I am privy to some of the secrets of the Lake Lure Inn; one of which I will share with you now."
This statement silenced everyone in the garage, and even Shells waited in tense anticipation without saying a word. Michael walked to the back of the building and pulled an old workbench away from the wall; it groaned and made a grinding noise as it moved. The wall behind where it had stood was dirty and covered in cobwebs and the grime of many years. At a place where two boards came together, there was a small gap that was wider at the bottom, as if part of the wood had been broken away ages before. Michael slid his fingers into the gap, and Sam had visions of something waiting in the darkness to bite his fingers. It was a silly thing to imagine, but she couldn't help herself. She'd always had a fear of old, dark places.
With a couple yanks, Michael managed to pull the panel away from the wall, and unlike any secret passage she'd ever seen in the movies, the panel opened in a clumsy fashion that spoke of shoddy, hurried workmanship. The darkness that waited beyond could have held anything, and Sam's imagination was already in overdrive.
"I don't think I want to go in there," Shells said in a whisper. "Mikey seems like a nice guy and all, but that looks like the place where you hide the bodies, don't you think?"
Sam didn't answer.
"There is a tunnel that runs between this room and the basement of the Inn," Michael said. "It hasn't been used much in recent history, but it was used during World War II when there were soldiers stationed here. Most say that men were sent here to recover from their wounds, but I think the military was here for an entirely different reason. How many of you know that Hitler was extremely interested in the occult and had entire divisions dedicated to finding ancient artifacts of power as well as locations of power?"
A few people raised their hands without a great deal of enthusiasm. Sam wondered if Michael knew how much he was scaring these people, but the man continued as if he hadn't noticed.
"There are many things that indicate this is a place of power; some more credible than others. There are lay lines that intersect here, strange magnetic fields that have been measured here, precious metals and gemstones that have been mined here for many generations. Some of those gemstones are found nowhere else in the world. I think the men stationed here during World War II were here to make sure the Third Reich never got their hands on the secrets this place so successfully hides. There is perhaps alien technology hidden within Rumbling Bald, and perhaps even vessels that have brought extraterrestrials here from distant planets."
Shells made a skeptical sound, and Sam couldn't help but think that Michael may have gone a bit overboard.
"You may think I'm crazy," Michael said, obviously sensing the disbelief in the room, "but I'm not asking you to believe me now. In the next few days, you will come to know the truth. For now, though, I am asking you all to follow me through this tunnel. It took hours to sneak all of you in here, and it would be far easier to have you gradually disperse from the Inn itself, rather than raise suspicions of anyone that might be watching. This will also allow you to know the way, should you need to escape the Inn without being seen."
Shells moved to where the strawberry blonde was standing and looking less and less confident about her decision to stay. Sam wasn't certain Shells was making her feel any better. Whenever the girl looked at Shells, she turned a deeper shade of red.
"For those of you who wish to stay, all I ask is that you work with me to get your vehicles into the garage after dark. It would be better if we don't have a full parking lot after the evacuation."
"If there is an evacuation," Shells said, her skepticism seeming to reach new heights.
Michael heard her and just shrugged. "If there is no evacuation, then what have you lost?" he asked. "You will have just humored a crazy old man for a period of time, and I will offer my most sincere apologies for startling you if that turns out to be the case. Fair enough?"
Sam couldn't argue with that. If he turned out to be right, then it would be better to be prepared. She had no intention of leaving; she was far too close to getting some real answers, and nothing was more important at this point in her life.
"I would be most grateful if you all would follow me," Michael said, "and please, no matter what happens, keep the existence of these tunnels a se
cret. I don't want any more people knowing about them than is absolutely necessary."
Maddie walked up beside Sam and took her hand, giving it a soft squeeze for reassurance. The two of them walked into the tunnel together, though Maddie had to squeeze in first, since the opening in the doorway was not all that wide. Once Sam was inside, the smell of damp and moldy soil became almost overwhelming. It reminded her of the smell in her grandfather's root cellar, and old memories flooded her consciousness. Above her ran a string of old electrical wire, the kind wrapped in a cloth mesh rather than corrugated metal, and at irregular intervals metal mesh baskets hung, protecting aging light bulbs inside what looked like mason jars that were threaded into aging fixtures. The whole thing conjured images of an old mine.
"Damn, it smells like butt and ass in here," came Shells' voice from behind, and Sam couldn't help but smile. Shells was about as eloquent as a sledgehammer. "I swear, if we run into the skeleton of one of Mikey's victims down here, I'm gonna get all Kung Fu on somebody. Don't make me drain the blood out of anybody. These hands are registered."
Sam turned to see Shells doing her best ninja pose, and she shook her head.
"Quiet, Michelle," Greg said a moment later. "You're scaring people." The sarcasm was heavy on his words, but Shells just kept walking with her hands curled into fight poses.
More people packed into the tunnel, and Sam soon began to feel the walls closing in around her. She was not normally claustrophobic, but it felt as if all the air was being used up and the temperature was rising. With her head ducked, trying to keep from hitting any of the dangling lights, Sam did her best to move quickly through the tunnel, which was longer than it initially appeared or she would have guessed. When she finally stepped into the massive cellar that waited, it seemed like a palace compared to the cramped and crudely cut tunnel. This part of the Inn showed more age than anything else she had seen. Massive oak racks held wooden casks that looked like relics from a previous age.
"Is there anything in those?" Sam couldn't help asking.
"Some of them still have whiskey in them," Michael said. "But most of them have long since been emptied."
"Nice thing to have for a rainy day," Sam said.
"I think they are calling for rain," Maddie said, eyeing the casks with an envious eye. "Maybe we should tap one of those for good measure."
"I'll tell you what," Michael said with a crooked smile. "If I'm right about what's coming, then we'll drain one of those before this is all over. Deal?"
"I'm going to hold you to that," Shells said, having only just emerged from the tunnel.
Sam looked back to see that this end of the tunnel was much better concealed and the entranceway constructed with greater care. What looked like an immovable wine rack, filled with dusty bottles stood at a forty-five degree angle to the rest of the racks that lined one wall. The wine collection at this Inn appeared to be massive and aging nicely. Along another wall were more modern stores of metal kegs and bottles of liquor. The floor was made of massive cobbled stones that had been polished by ages of staff members walking over them, all the edges made rounded and smooth over time. The mighty beams that supported the ceiling were held by what looked like entire tree trunks, which had also been polished to a smooth but natural surface over time. Sam ran her hands over the old trees and could still feel the life in them, as if they were still growing, yet she knew they had been cut down close to a hundred years before.
Michael was ushering small groups of people up a massive and heavily reinforced staircase, making sure not to send everyone up at once. Sam, Maddie, Shells, and Greg stood to one side, not yet ready to leave this place. For some reason Sam felt like she was more likely to get answers here in the cellar than upstairs in the light of day. In between sending folks up the stairs, Michael pointed to a cardboard box sitting off to one side. "This came for you today. I hope you don't mind, but I took a peak. Good job. I wasn't sure you were going to be able to get any night vision stuff in here with as closely as the thicknecks are watching this place."
"I didn't trust any of the delivery companies this time," Shells said. "So I found a guy in Asheville who said he would deliver them himself. He thought I was a nutcase for asking him to hide them in his van when he brought them, but it looks like he followed my instructions nonetheless. I suppose the extra hundred bucks I paid humored him."
Sam opened the box and saw a few things she recognized along with a few things she didn't. "What the hell are those?"
"Military surplus night vision goggles that can record everything they see," Shells said. "My guy wasn't sure he could come up with the IR illuminators, but it looks like he managed to scrounge up both. The illuminators will work with our existing gear, and the goggles were just too cool to pass up. I call dibs on that shit."
"You're going to look like an idiot wearing those things," Greg said, and Maddie chuckled.
"Shut up, Gregory Prick."
"So I suppose there isn't much sense in us investigating, since it would appear that wasn't really why you got us down here?" Sam asked Michael.
"You might as well," Michael replied. "I really do think there's something haunting this Inn."
"I won't argue that," Sam said.
"And it wouldn't hurt for ya'll to get comfortable with your new equipment. Besides, no matter what happens, footage of a ghost in the Inn can only be good for business."
"I'm on it," Shells said as she hauled the box up the stairs.
Sam followed Shells and they emerged into a large professional kitchen. The kitchen staff cast them curious glances, but at the sight of Michael, they all got back to the tasks at hand. Through a set of double doors, they emerged into the main dining room.
"How about a little help," Shells said to Greg. "This shit is heavier than it looks, and maybe the girls will be impressed if you flex those muscles of yours, big boy."
Greg took the box from her and walked toward the main stairs that led back to their rooms.
"Oh, yeah," Shells said. "Work it. Work it. That's right. Looking juicy."
"Shut up, Michelle."
* * *
"This is bullshit," Shells said. "Nothing's happening."
"Just be quiet and still, Shells," Sam said. "We need to just let things happen."
"I'm starting to think Mikey has lost his marbles, and there are no ghosts in this Inn; nothing is going to happen here, and I'm hungry. Does that pizza joint deliver? Do we have any beer?"
"Are you sure you all have done this before?" Maddie asked with a slight grin that looked somewhat sadistic through the night vision goggles Sam was wearing. Despite the fact that Shells had said she would wear them, it hadn't taken long before she declared them to be 'uncomfortable as shit' and had shoved them into Sam's lap. After a bit of time, Sam couldn't argue with her assessment, but she persevered for the sake of learning how the things worked. There were dials and buttons that she had no idea exactly what they did, though they did change the digital readout that was overlaid on the greenish images she saw through the goggles.
"I have some crackers," Maddie said.
"That's some sad ass bullshit when you want pizza and someone offers you crackers. Damn girlfriend, what's up with that? Next time you ask me for a glass of water, I'll offer you some condensation from the side of my beer bottle. Seriously, y'all, we need to get some food. Anyone up for a trip to the pizza joint?"
"Since when do you use the word y'all?" Greg asked.
"I kind of like it," Shells said. "I'm thinking of becoming a southern bell. What do y'all think?"
"God help us all," Sam said.
The night had been wholly uneventful, but Sam knew that there were forces at work here that were just waiting to be discovered and documented if only Shells would shut her trap.
"Maybe you should go get us some food before places start to close for the night; and then after you've stuffed your face, we can investigate like we mean it."
"I'm cool with that," Shells said. "Not that I exp
ect we'll find anything. Mikey has gone all fruit loops on us, and I'm starting to think this is all just a delusion. I mean seriously, y'all."
"We'll know soon enough," Sam said. "And if it turns out to be nothing, we'll at least have gotten a good vacation out of the deal."
"I hear ya," Shells said. "You wanna come Maddie? I need some arm candy."
Sam saw Maddie smile through the night vision goggles, and even in that pale green light, Maddie looked good. As she stood, she rubbed up against Shells, who leaned into her and Sam caught her smelling Maddie's hair.
"Damn, y'all," Shells said. "We might be a while. Don't wait up or nothin'."
"Behave," Sam said. "And be sure to bring something back for us, ya hear?"
Shells didn't acknowledge that last statement, and instead put her arm around Maddie, with her hand a little lower than was perhaps proper. Maddie jumped when Shells goosed her, and they closed the door behind them.
"That girl is seriously messed up," Greg said, and Sam made no response. "It looks like we have a little time to ourselves. I had my wheaties today."
Sam cast him a sidelong glance that she wasn't certain he saw. "I came down here to investigate," she said. "If I don't make an effort, nothing is ever going to get done. Getting Shells out of here for a while is probably the best chance I've got of catching something; so just pipe down over there. I'm not here to document things that go 'hump' in the night. Got it?"
"I hear ya," Greg said. "I'll be good, and there's always later."
Trying to ignore her own arousal, Sam waited in the darkness for something to make itself known to her. So far it had only shown itself when she was drunk, or after certain strenuous activities, and Sam had to admit that Greg might be onto something. Perhaps the best thing to do was to set up the cameras and let nature take its course. Still she hadn't come here to make night vision porn, and the thought of Shells getting her hands on that footage was enough to quell any additional thoughts of on-camera antics. Instead, she concentrated on being still and tuning her senses to her surroundings. In the darkness, the lake continued to call to her, though its call was faint enough to make her wonder if it was her imagination. It was still relatively early, and the thought of sitting cross legged and waiting hours for 3:13 am to arrive made her eyelids feel heavy. She wondered if she would be able to make it that long. She had to. Something about that number was significant, and she couldn't risk sleeping through something important.
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