Revival House (21 page)

“I lunged through the crowd, shining my flashlight toward the source of the sound. That’s when I saw Brett standing there, holding his wrist.” I look over at Brett. He’s picking his teeth with a fingernail, staring off into space, so not interested. “Anyway, I saw this, this kind of lumpy human figure that kind of looked like a chubby woman wearing a sheet. It was kind of trundling away from us, going pretty fast, though, back toward the entrance we used at the visitors’ center. I took off after her, ran up the steps and out the door, but I slipped a couple of times going up the stairs, which are always kind of wet, and I lost sight of her in the park. It was creepy, man.” I shuddered for affect.

Boo added some more bullshit on camera, and that was pretty much it as far as the interview part went.

After viewing the footage an hour later via computer, the show’s exec producer wanted Boo to scrap the tape and do a live show. Some kind of prima donna argument ensued— we only heard Boo’s side of the conversation as he screamed into his cell, face purple, foot stomping. Boo said no to going live because he would not be able to control how his hair or make-up would look on camera traipsing through the tunnels. The producer caved and the show would be taped, as planned.

I would lead Boo Larsen and his crew of two through the tunnels at midnight that night.

Chapter 44 – Avery

I don’t know for certain what he expects to find. Once your soul is gone, there’s no one in there. You’re like an empty plane running on autopilot. You’re one of those peanut shells you open up and find nothing inside. We hijacked her body, abducted her pilot, and flushed her peanut right out of her shell. What happens now? I haven’t a clue. The dogs we studied at the Safar Center died again after three hours of shaking, whining, and foaming at the mouth. It was a sad state of affairs, I tell you. Good thing I’m not an animal person. Or a people person. Scarlet’s probably curled up in the fetal position somewhere, convulsing and spewing foamy bile all over whatever floor she’s laying on. He’s going to be so disappointed when we find her. Dissecting her brain, however, will give us some valuable information.

He wanted her dead in the first place, you know. He’ll never admit it, but her accusing him of being gay just pushed him right over the edge. I mean, of course, I helped by showing up and conducting my experiments, putting ideas in his head, but she was the catalyst. She was the fuse that I lit. She was the flashpoint, the explosion, the mushroom cloud.

She really helped me out. I needed that.

I did not love her, but I needed her.

Gotta use what you’ve got, right?

Chapter 45 – Four

I shush them over my shoulder, Boo, Rob, and Tom. We extinguish the flashlights and let Tom, with the night-vision camera, lead the way. A bundle of dirty rags lies crumpled next to the tunnel’s wet stone wall about ten yards in front of us. We all jump when we first see it as our flashlight beams just touch its uneven edge. Boo turns to go back the way we came, but Rob grabs his arm and drags him behind us, toward the lump.

As we get closer, I see through Tom’s camera that the lump resembles a person swaddled in something like a dirty white sheet, just like the thing I chased the other night. We tiptoe five yards closer. I look over my shoulder and see Boo’s silhouette cowering behind Rob, being towed along like he’s going to his first day of kindergarten or something.

We’re close enough to touch it now.

Tom and I crouch down, inches from the white blob.

I stretch out my hand to shake the bundle, to wake it or something.

I’m practically pissing in my pants, I’m so scared, but this is the price of fame (I hope).

As my fingers hover just above the shapeless heap, Boo sneezes.

“Aaaaaaaaaargh,” the thing bolts upright and shrieks, its head whirring side-to-side, a dark blur inside a cage.

I jump back, knocking the camera out of Tom’s hands.

“Fuck,” he says.

I fall on my ass and push myself backward, my sneakers slipping on the stone floor.

I hear Boo scream and take off in the opposite direction.

I hear him curse.

I hear him fall.

Rob snaps on a flashlight and the scary thing is on its feet, scurrying down the tunnel, about twenty yards ahead of us. Tom picks up his ruined camera and it slides out of his hands and crashes to the floor again.

“Go after it, dudes,” Rob says, still shining the light on the thing’s back.

I can’t get up off the floor. Adrenaline slaps my feet against the slippery floor, but the soles of my shoes don’t gain any traction.

My pants are wet.

“Dude,” Rob says, trying to step over or around me. He stomps on my hand and it hurts like hell. Then he trips over Tom who’s trying to pick up his camera. Rob’s flashlight goes skittering down the tunnel and we lose sight of the thing in the shroud.

But I know who it is.

Holy shit!

Chapter 46 – Scarlet

Light.

Dark want.

Fall.

No.

Mmmmaahharrr.

Sick.

Friend no.

Caleb only.

Caleb.

Caleb.

No!

Chapter 47 – Caleb

I listen to the woman’s meaningless words filter through the telephone. She sounds like the grown-ups on those Peanuts cartoons.

“Uh-huh,” I say through the towel I’m using to hold a handful of crushed ice on my ruined nose. The only words I just barely recognize are my own name. I confirm my identity. The voice continues mumbling words at me in a slow rhythm.

“Huh?”

Aunt Billie has been taken to the hospital a bit early. Seems she’s got pneumonia now as well as something with her heart. They don’t know if they can do the surgery until she recovers from the pneumonia and by then it may be too late. They want me to make payment arrangements for hospital services. “Uh-huh.”

I hang up in a fog.

I don’t know where Avery is.

Chapter 48 – Four

“Yes, sir, we meet at the fountain in the middle of Forsyth at 7:00. Fountain’s big, you can’t miss it,” I bare my plastic fangs at the fat Yankee, and he smiles and walks away. “Next, please. Hello, how can I help you?” For the first time a line of tourists stretches from the end of the Market all the way to my sad little platform. I’m booking tours three days in advance and charging five bucks more per ticket. Thanks to Boo Larsen, who pushed to get us on ‘Great American Ghost Hunters’ the night after our tour. Our tunnel expedition aired last night, word got around town, and, bam, I’m king of Tour Town.

And I know that bitch can’t compete with me now.

I hope we find her on one of my tours.

Someone taps me on the shoulder from behind. I turn my head to see a familiar beat-up face. I tell the next customer in line that I’ll be with her in a minute.

“Caleb, what are you doing here, man? It’s good to see you,” I say. I pull out my plastic fangs and wipe my mouth on my wool sleeve. “Whatever have you been up to?” I say, trying to put a teasing tone in my voice.

Caleb looks like a tall pile of shit. Gray roots show underneath his black dyed hair. Long gray stubble clings to his sunken cheeks and scrawny neck. His dull gray eyes look like they’re covered with contacts made from wax paper. His normally immaculate suit is rumpled and dirty, the sleeves stained with crusty transparent smears.

“Four, I, um,” Caleb sighs. “I need some money. It’s Billie. She, uh, she needs surgery and the Home is looking for money, you know?”

I look at the line of tourists now rounding the far corner of the Market.

“Um, sure, whatever you need, Dude,” I say. I pull him a few steps away from the platform, out of earshot of my customers. “I saw her.”

His eyes widen, his mouth works but he doesn’t say anything.

“What did you do, Dude? I want to know, but I don’t want to know, you know?”

He stares at me, mouth hanging open. He looks like a corpse.

“It wasn’t me,” he whispers. “It was him.”

“Him who?”

“Avery.”

That egghead? Yeah, I don’t think so. I’ll have to deal with this shit later. I’ve got a whole line of people waiting to buy tickets.

Chapter 49 – Caleb

“Where did you see her?”

Four sits on my kitchen counter, scarfing down chicken salad sandwiches some neighbor brought this afternoon. “In the tunnel, Dude,” he says, churning a white glob in his mouth. He swallows. “You know, between the Dead House and old Candler. Scared the shit out of that TV crew.”

“TV crew?”

“Yeah, Dude,” he says, beaming at me before tearing another bite from his sandwich. “You didn’t see it? So cool, they rushed it through editing and put it on in place of some other lame-ass Learning Network show. The news has been running stories about it and everything.”

“Oh.” This information causes a geyser of acid to shoot up my esophagus and a vise to squeeze the top of my head.

“My business is skyrocketing. You ought to come work for me, Dude. You saw that line in the Market.” He laughs.

Work. I hadn’t thought about work in two weeks. Maybe more.

“You know, Dude,” Four continues, licking his fingers, “I don’t know what happened to her, but you want to tell me anything? Why is she all, like, freaked out and hiding in the tunnels and shit?”

I don’t want to tell him.

No, I do want to tell him, I just don’t know how.

I’m afraid. But not afraid like before, like when I was telling him about my multi-media ideas and the
Weekend at Bernie’s
photo shoot plans.

“Listen. There’s, um, there’s been an accident, Four.” I squint at him, gauging his reaction. “Avery... A horrible accident.”

He looks confused.

“Scarlet died, Four.”

Chapter 50 – Avery

I love River Street. It’s so full of life. It’s also full of the possibility of death. Or near-death. Since Subject A, or Scarlet if you must, has gone missing, I’m thinking it just might be time to find another guinea pig. If my good friend wants to save his business, we’ve got the perfect gimmick, wouldn’t you say?

Your loved one had a heart attack? Spend a few more hours together— he or she might not be able to talk to you, or even understand you, but you might be able to hold hands or perhaps even something more— wink, wink, nudge, nudge— just one last time.

Of course, this is assuming your loved one doesn’t become a raving homicidal maniac. Oh, and let’s not use the word ‘zombie,’ okay? That’s such an ugly cliché. I propose the term ‘reboot.’

Now, if we could find Subject A, we could see what condition she’s in.

I know she’s alive.

Four told me so.

Chapter 51 – Four

Boo and his crew stayed on in Savannah. They want to keep searching the tunnels for what they think is a ghost. They’ve got their night-vision stuff and their little voice recorders and EMF detectors all ready to go. I hope to Christ they don’t find her. Being outed as a scam would not be good for my now-booming business. Not good at all. My parents are finally proud of me for once in my life. Well, maybe not proud, but at least not ashamed.

Caleb wouldn’t tell me everything, but from what I gather, Scarlet’s got some kind of head injury and she probably needs medical attention. She’s acting all wacky because her brain’s traumatized or something. I feel bad for her, but with the money I’ve got flowing in, I don’t feel that bad.

Caleb’s a different story, man. Dude’s ripped to shreds over her. He’s trying so hard to find her. For his sake, I kind of hope he does. I think Dude’s totally flipping out. He talks to himself, keeps talking shit about Avery, who I don’t believe would hurt a soul. I don’t know, man. It’s kind of sad.

I miss the guy. I wish I had someone to talk to about all this shit.

Chapter 52 – Caleb