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Authors: Stephen Prosapio

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BOOK: Ghosts of Rosewood Asylum
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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 could 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.

BOOK: Ghosts of Rosewood Asylum
10.87Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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