Zach’s head felt more and more like a bowling ball every minute. His eyelids seemed ready to betray him. Worse yet, and what he couldn’t divulge to anyone, the confusing nature of the two psychic readings had made him realize he would need to induce an episode of his own in order to gain clarity. It would have to wait until the following evening and he would need to be well-rested for it.
“Fine. Let’s do it, then,” he said. “Rico, Bryce, Shelly, and Hunter, head to the administration building for ‘Demon Hour’ and the spirit release ceremony. Sara can film it. Patrizia, Rebecca and I will man the main asylum building and especially monitor the basement.”
“Yeah, pun not intended,” Patrizia said. “We’ll ‘man’ it.”
“You knew what I meant.” Zach frowned. He was too tired to be politically correct.
“Rebecca could come with me,” Hunter said, attempting way too hard to sound casual.
Zach flashed him a “not tonight” look. Psychic or not, Hunter responded by nodding his head in agreement and then bowing it.
“Okay people,” Sara said. “Get moving to your positions. I know you’re all tired, but we’ve just one last scene to film, and then you can sleep.”
“Yes,” Zach called out. “And lastly, remember to stay in groups of twos at all times. No one wanders off alone at night!”
As the groups scrambled to get ready for Demon Hour, Bryce nodded at Zach and motioned him off to the side of the activity.
“Brah, you looked wiped,” he said.
“I’m pretty tired but no more so than anyone else.”
“Do you maybe,” Bryce whispered, “want something to help you stay awake?”
“You mean like…what?” Zach thought he understood where this was going but wasn’t certain.
“Like, whatever.” Bryce looked away.
“No. Thanks though,” Zach said, wishing to avoid both conflict and complicity on this topic. “I’ll be okay.”
“Suit yourself,” Bryce said.
Zach wondered if any, and how many, Demon Hunters and XPI members had taken Bryce up on his offer.
Before the group heading to the administration building departed, Zach called everyone together for a prayer circle. He held hands with Patrizia. Just inches away from his own arm, under her jacket, a Michael the Archangel tattoo stood guard—they were about to say his prayer.
After a moment of silence, Zach’s voice echoed in Rosewood’s lobby with both confidence and humility. “Saint Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle. Be our protection against the wickedness and snares of the devil. May God rebuke him, we humbly pray; and do Thou, O Prince of the Heavenly Host—by the Divine Power of God—cast into hell, Satan and all the evil spirits, who roam throughout the world seeking the ruin of souls. Amen.”
Many in the circle repeated, “Amen.”
While there were words of well wishes being exchanged between various people, Zach called Hunter aside.
“Stand your ground down there,” he said. “Don’t let them push you around.”
Hunter smiled and nodded. “Ditto to you and good luck up here.”
Nearby, Patrizia chatted with Rico, while Bryce gathered his equipment and supplies from his tent which had been constructed in the cavernous lobby. He pulled out an empty water bottle and sauntered over to Zach.
“Do you have any holy water?”
“Yes, with my stuff. You didn’t bring any?”
Holy water was as necessary to a ghost hunter as a wrench was to a plumber.
“No. They wouldn’t let us bring any on the plane.”
“Plane?”
“Yeah, from California. Where I live. Patrizia’s from there, too.”
Something about that comment didn’t sit right with Zach, but he shrugged it off. Later, he’d blame his obliviousness to the lateness of the hour and the urgency of the task at hand.
“Sure. I have some with my stuff,” he said. “I’ll get it from the van on the way out.”
“Coolio. Thanks.” Bryce turned and walked away. Zach was as sure as ever that he was hiding something.
Preparing for the 3 AM shutdown of all nonessential electrical equipment, Matthew changed out DVDs and swapped disk-drive tapes.
“Where’s Angel, anyway?” Zach asked.
“Sleeping. He’s got the last shift,” Matthew said.
Pierre was nowhere to be found either—likely passed out in his tent.
Rebecca and Patrizia could be seen clearly on the video monitor. Zack raised the walkie-talkie to his mouth. “Ninety seconds until lights out. You ladies ready down there?”
“Ready, Freddie.” Patrizia’s voice sounded chipper, maybe too chipper. She waved excitedly at the camera. After Bryce’s offer of something to help him stay awake, almost everyone’s behavior seemed, to Zach, suspiciously upbeat.
“Ready out there at the administration building?” he transmitted.
“We is ready, sire,” Bryce replied.
“All cell phones, pagers and flashlights off,” Zach commanded both teams over the radio.
“Roger that.”
“They’re off.”
“Rico’s turning off his vibrator now,” Bryce quipped.
“Come on,” Zach broadcast. “Let’s get serious now.”
Matthew began shutting off the video screens that displayed various hallway scenes around Rosewood.
“You’re just shutting off the monitors?” Zach asked. “Those cameras will still be recording though, right?”
“Yes, boss.” He powered off the last couple. Only a few remained on; one displaying the basement, one operated by the cameraman at the administration building and of course, BryceCam.
“Okay, people,” Zach transmitted. “It’s 2:59. Lights out. Radios to be used only in an emergency.”
The monitors now displayed black and green night vision scenes. All other lights in the lobby were off. The candles that Angel had laid out that evening, continued to resist remaining lit. Moments earlier, Zach had fired up a few and placed them in various points around the lobby. For a while they remained lit, casting wispy flickers of orange light into the darkness. Once again, a draft had seemed to have come from nowhere and had blown them out.
“Would you like to do the honors?” Zach asked Matthew.
He hesitated, but then grabbed the two-way and put it to his mouth. He looked at his watch and paused just a few seconds. “Here we go, folks. Demon Hour commencing.”
One of the screens displayed the images of Bryce, Rico, Shelly and Hunter sitting cross-legged on the floor facing each other. In a moment, they’d begin attempting to exorcise Dr. Johansson. By trying to observe both locations, Zach had removed himself from the action. Sitting on the sidelines wasn’t a comfortable experience, but he tended to avoid exorcisms.
On another video screen, Patrizia and Rebecca each squatted holding a candle. They’d chosen that position rather than sitting on the grimy floor. Their job was just to observe, record and report.
Hunter began rocking back and forth, a signal that he was in contact with a presence.
“I wish we had audio,” Matthew whispered.
“You read my mind.”
The girls in the basement remained stationary, although they clearly seemed to be nervous. Patrizia glanced to her left, but then refocused her attention on Rebecca.
On the other screen, Bryce stood up and inched his way around the perimeter of the seated trio. He was speaking and waving his arms about dramatically. Another monitor displayed the view from BryceCam. As Bryce moved around the circle, the camera panned crazily about. Sara would have a difficult time using any of its footage. Zach hoped Bryce wasn’t preventing Hunter from locking in on the doctor’s spirit.
“Look,” Matthew whispered.
Rebecca had stood and was looking toward the ceiling. Patrizia eased to a standing position and it appeared they were taking turns speaking out to whatever paranormal activity they were encountering. Both looked terrified. Zach wished that he co
uld pan the static camera in the basement. Off camera something was happening.
“I shouldn’t have sent them down there alone,” Zach mumbled.
On the other screen, Bryce was shouting. Hunter responded. Bryce said something and both Rico and Shelly stood up.
The other monitor showed Patrizia duck suddenly. Her hands were around her face. Rebecca was flailing about, her arms extended and her hands groped for the wall. It looked like she was crying. He realized that neither was holding the two-way radio.
Zach stood up. It was time to break one of his own rules. He leaned over to Matthew. “You going to be okay here on your own?”
“Um, sure.”
He put the two-way to his mouth. “Rebecca, I’m coming down. Over and out.” He tossed the radio to Matthew. Zach grabbed a flashlight and headed through the darkness toward the door to the basement. Not wanting the light to scare off whatever entity was downstairs, he turned the flashlight off before opening the door. He opened it, but was unable to prevent the creak that, due to the stillness of the asylum, seemed to echo louder than normal.
The first couple steps were easy to descend; he held the door open as he went down them. Once he let it ease closed, the pitch of black surrounded him. The scent of mold seemed to thicken in his nostrils and only the railing provided any sense of direction.
Below and some distance down the hall, Rebecca’s voice seemed to be reassuring Patrizia. Zach couldn’t make out the words. He took a step and then followed with his other foot.
Another step and he started hearing whispers. He first thought they were echoes of Rebecca or Patrizia but they seemed closer. Faint, but closer.
He stuck his foot out and searched for the next stair. It seemed farther than the others had but he found it. He clutched the railing with one hand and even crossed the hand holding the flashlight over to it. His lead foot went down another step. He decided to go down sideways. One stair at a time.
Rebecca’s words floated up. “What you do here,” she said. Or maybe it was, “Do you hear?”
Regardless, having heard her, it was obvious that the next sound he heard wasn’t coming from that distance away.
“Zach,” the voice whispered. Raspy. Upset. Undead.
What the hell, Zach thought. Rules were not made to be broken. Why had he ventured down here alone?
This experience would end sooner if he moved faster. He stepped down and trailed with his back foot. He repeated it. There couldn’t be that many more steps.
Something crawled across his hand. It may have just been a cobweb.
Sailor Black invaded his senses. His hands were becoming numb. This wasn’t merely a caution. It was last-minute notice that an episode would occur unless he calmed down. And quickly.
“They’re everywhere!” Rebecca’s voice from far away.
Zach thought that adrenaline would propel him forward in circumstances like this; instead, exhaustion washed over him wave after wave like a fire hose drenching a flaming house. His heart rate was plummeting.
He took another step. His feet were numb and a tingling sensation moved up his shins.
“Zach,” the voice whispered. It was close. Not his godfather’s.
His legs froze and his hands bore into the railing.
“Zaaa-aack,” It was right in his face. “Zach, whyyy?”
The smell of pipe.
“You’re making a mistake. Leave me alone,” the voice hissed.
He couldn’t wait it out any longer. He flicked on his flashlight and whirled the beam all around him. He stood alone on the staircase.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Ants,” Rebecca said. “I’m sorry I dropped the radio. There were ants all over it.”
“There were like two of ‘em.” Zach had already brushed them away. The walkie-talkie was clean.
“It’s not her fault,” Patrizia said. “There were other things going on, too.”
“Like what?”
“Like…” Patrizia chose her words carefully. “Voices. Movements.”
“Yes,” Rebecca said. “There was a presence here. Stronger, way stronger, than this afternoon.”
Zach looked at his watch. It was 3:30. “You mean ‘yesterday afternoon.’”
“Did you sense anything coming down here?” Rebecca asked.
“Let’s head upstairs,” he said. “It will be interesting to see if anything shows up on the audio.”
They made their way toward the staircase. Just shining his flashlight up it gave him a tiny shiver. Going up would be easier than venturing down.
“You okay, Zach?” Patrizia asked.
“I’m fine.”
Using their flashlights, they trudged up the stairs and headed toward the lobby.
“Welcome back,” Matthew said upon seeing them. “The other team radioed in. They’re on their way in, and they think they released the spirit from the administration building.”
“That’s good,” Patrizia said flatly. “I can’t wait to see and hear our stuff.”
“No. No, no,” Zach said. “We need rested investigators tomorrow. The audio and video evidence isn’t going anywhere. Ray and the Turk will be up in a couple of hours to start reviewing it. They can edit it down for us and we can watch it tomorrow.”
Rebecca and Patrizia appeared disappointed but too exhausted to object.
“I mean it,” Zach continued. He handed the equipment to Matthew. “No one watches anything more tonight. Patrizia, we need you to research the hell out of the records about that patient found in the basement. Rebecca, you’re going to need to be peppy to deal with Mrs. Radkey.”
They pouted like children being sent to bed Christmas Eve after being told there was no Santa Claus.
“You’re right,” Rebecca said finally.
“I know I am. Go and get some sleep. Once I see Hunter off, I’m on my way to bed myself.”
Patrizia and Rebecca bid their adieu.
Zach turned his attention to Matthew. “And you, too. Isn’t it about time for you to turn in?”
When Matthew delayed his answer, Zach added, “I need you rested tomorrow. It’s going to be a long day. It’s Pierre’s turn at the helm, right?”
“Yeah. Yeah,” Matthew said. “I’ll wake him.”
“Okay, g’night. Zach was already heading toward the front doors.
“Goodnight, boss.”
Outside, the temperature continued to drop. It was as though it had gone from July to November in a few short hours.
“Zachman, we got him!” Bryce trotted over with his hand held up for a high five. Zach weakly obliged.
“I’ve told the others and I’d appreciate your support on waiting until morning to review the Demon Hour activities. Everyone needs to be rested tomorrow.”
Bryce looked at his watch. “Wow. Crap. Yeah. Sometimes I forget.”
Rico moseyed up to them. “Yeah, jerkoff. Try being on New Jersey time. It’s almost 5 AM in my time zone.”
“Wait,” Zach said. “When did you guys fly in?”
Rico froze and then acted like something behind Zach had caught his attention.
“Just today,” Bryce said. “Or like yesterday now, I guess. We found out about this gig two days ago. Same as you did.”
Interesting that Zach hadn’t asked him that question. Nor did he believe Bryce’s “answer.” Before he could pursue the topic, Hunter, Shelly, Sara and her cameraman rambled up. One look of that group made it clear that he’d get no argument from them about turning in for the night. It looked like the only thing keeping Shelly and Sara awake was the cold.
“How’d it go?” Zach called out, hoping for Hunter’s report rather than Bryce’s.
“Very good. Good stuff,” Sara said.
“I’m exhausted,” Shelly stated. “G’night all.”
Sara echoed Shelly, and a series of goodnights were exchanged. Everyone made their way to their respective tents except Zach. He motioned to Hunter who wasn’t staying. “I’ll walk you out.”
<
br /> They headed down Rosewood’s driveway.
“Well? How’d it go?”
“I don’t know,” Hunter said. “Something about it bothers me.”
“You don’t know if the doctor was released?”
“I’m just not sure it was a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“Balance.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know what I mean. The word came to me during the exorcism. It was as if it was the doctor’s final warning.”
“Final warning?”
“I don’t know how to explain it.”
Hunter was behaving strangely. Zach wasn’t used to him acting sketchy like this. Upon reflection, everyone seemed already affected by the case—or perhaps by Rosewood. Zach himself felt overwhelmed and needed sleep. It promised to be a full day tomorrow.
“Let’s talk tomorrow. You’re coming back, right?”
“Only if you’ll have me.” Hunter smiled weakly. “I booked a hotel room just down I94.”
They’d reached the security car that was parked just inside the locked main entry point. The engine was running, but the vehicle was dark. Zack tapped on the glass. The guard at the wheel stirred and opened his door issuing a string of apologies. He unlocked the gate and let Hunter out.
“Drive safe,” Zach said. “See you tomorrow.”
Hunter waved.
Zach trudged back towards Rosewood. No one was around and the grounds were silent. Overcome with fatigue he stumbled to his tent, spilled in and crawled into his sleeping bag. He slipped off his pants but left his shirt on. Also, unlike Ray, Zach wore his scapular to bed; even in his dreams, he needed the Lord’s protection.
Unfortunately, the scapular didn’t guarantee a night of restful sleep.
“Knock. Knock,” Uncle Henry said, reaching up and rustling his parka. “Breakfast is served.”
He reached under his chin and tugged a zipper from his jugular down his sternum to below his belt. The scent of Sailor Black transitioned to fresh ground java beans. Evelyn emerged from inside his godfather. As she climbed out, Zach calmly noted that her body was that of a skeleton.
Ghosts of Rosewood Asylum Page 14
