Ghouls Gone Wild

I looked meaningfully at him. “That’s exactly what I’m saying,” I said. And then I went on to explain that the Witch of Queen’s Close had given me a wallop with her broom.

  “But how could that hurt your physical body?” Gilley said. “Don’t OBEs happen in a completely different dimension? I mean, that’s why they’re called out of body, right?”

  Heath and I exchanged a look. I knew he understood. “It’s not totally unheard of,” he said. “There are recorded instances of people being injured on the astral plane and when they come back here, they’ve got the physical evidence to prove it. But the power needed to cause you real injury would be tremendous.”

  “It would be,” I agreed. “And it was.” I then chronicled my experience by telling them about my encounter with Heath’s grandfather.

  When I began describing him, Heath exclaimed, “That’s totally him!” I smiled and continued my story, telling Gilley and Heath everything Samuel had said.

  “Whoa,” Gil said when I was done. “That is too cool.”

  “So Gramps is gonna help us?”

  I nodded. “He said we’d need some backup. I guess this Rigella woman is really bad news.”

  “What do you think he meant by, ‘She’s out for vengeance’?” Gilley wondered.

  I shrugged. “I’ve no idea. But my guess is that it’s nothing good. Gil, can you do some digging into this witch and see what you can come up with?”

  “I’m on it,” he said. “But first, let’s see about getting you cleaned up, okay?”

  “Gil’s right,” Heath said, eyeing my shin. “That cut’s going to need some peroxide.” I looked at him in surprise and laughed. “What’s so funny?”

  “Your grandfather said the exact same thing.”

  Heath grinned. “He was big on peroxide. Used to keep a big jug of it under the bathroom sink, which was smart because I was always getting banged up on the reservation.”

  As Heath turned to the door, I called him back for a moment, “We’re also going to need to check into some charms.”

  “Charms?” said Gil. “What kind of charms?”

  “I won’t know until I see it, but Heath’s grandfather gave me one when we sat together. It had a specific design and the moment he placed it around my neck, I felt safer. I think it was a message. We’ll need to arm ourselves before we risk going into those caverns.”

  Heath and Gilley exchanged an uncomfortable look. “It’s six thirty, M. J.,” Gil said. “All the local shops are pretty much closed.”

  “Okay,” I said. “Then we’ll hit them first thing in the morning.”

  “Gopher wanted us to start filming tonight,” Gil reminded me.

  I took that in for a minute. “Crap.”

  “We can see if he’d be willing to postpone it,” Heath suggested.

  I looked to Gilley, who seemed doubtful. “We’re on a really tight schedule,” he said. “But maybe we could stall a little by insisting we do a baseline of the caverns first?”

  “That’s a good idea,” I told him, getting up to rummage around in my suitcase. I kept a bottle of prescription-strength ibuprofen handy in case I had a bad case of cramps, and my head was starting to hurt enough to warrant popping one now. After downing one of the pills with a little water, I said, “We should also load up on the magnetic spikes while we set up the still cameras and meters. If we’re armed, nothing should bother us tonight.”

  “Great,” Gil said, getting up off the bed and handing me Wendell. “You sit tight. I’ll go clear it with Gopher, and Heath can see about getting you some first aid.”

  Several hours later, Gil, Heath, and I and the rest of the crew were standing at the entrance to one of the creepiest-looking caverns I’ve ever seen. And it was even more unsettling because it so closely resembled the one from my OBE.

  We were standing in the cavern that ran directly under Briar Road, and at least there was one good thing about it—Heath and I weren’t feeling the distress of all those burned souls from above. Still, the place didn’t feel pleasant. It felt oppressive.

  We’d had to descend two separate sets of stairs to reach this underground web of tunnels, caverns, and corridors, and even though I had meditated for an hour beforehand, coating my aura with a form of reflective and protective energy, I still felt the goose bumps rise along my arms. Next to me, I heard Gilley audibly gulp. “Ick,” he said. “This place is ick.”

  I completely agreed. “It makes the haunted houses on our side of the pond seem like an amusement park, huh?”

  “It’s just so intense!” Heath said. “I mean, it’s like radiating something bad from every crevice.”

  I was fully conscious of the fact that there was a camera recording our reactions, and I wondered what the viewing audience would think about these not-so-brave ghostbusters standing frozen in fear at the entrance to a simple underground tunnel. “Okay, boys and girls,” I said, trying hard to keep the quiver out of my voice. “Let’s get this party started.”

  Heath and I stepped forward alone, and when we’d gone a few paces, we both realized that no one was following. I turned to look over my shoulder and I saw every member of the crew holding fast to his position. “Gil?” I called.

  Gil’s eyes were wide with fear. “I don’t wanna go in there,” he admitted.

  “You’ve got your sweatshirt on,” I reassured, referring to his specially made sweatshirt with glued-on magnets from the cuffs to the collar. “Nothing can come near you while you’re wearing that.”

  Gil’s eyes continued to stare wildly at me. “Uhuh,” he said, shaking his head no. “I think I’ll head back to the van and set up the equipment from there. I’ll record and monitor your progress where it’s safe.”

  I felt a smile pull at the corners of my lips. Gilley was scared to death of things that went bump in the night—and for good reason. He’d seen a lot of crazy spooky stuff over the years, and he’d never grown comfortable with chasing after the ghoulies. He preferred the safety and comfort of a ghost-free zone—like our van back home or the one we’d rented here. “Okay, Gil,” I conceded. “But the rest of you are coming with us, right?”

  I directed my comment specifically at Gopher, who also appeared rooted to the spot. Jake and Russ looked at Gopher as if waiting for him to order them forward, and after a minute’s silent contemplation, he did. “Um, yeah,” he said. “Yes. Let’s go, guys.”

  Reluctantly, our sound and camera crew followed their producer and together the five of us entered the close.

  I kept my sixth sense wide-open, with one hand on a canister that held a magnetized metal stake. We call these grenades, because their effect on grounded spirits is rather explosive.

  When a powerful magnet is introduced into the electromagnetic field of a ghost’s energy, it can severely alter that energy and make it impossible for the spook to stick around. The magnetic spikes act like a blaring fire alarm amped up one hundred decibels, and they make it exceptionally uncomfortable for any grounded spirit to continue to occupy the area. The minute the canister is opened, the electromagnetic frequency changes and the ghosts typically flee.

  My grenades have been tested against even the most powerful of malevolent spirits—and so far, they’ve worked every time.

  For the first part of this ghost hunt—what we called setting a baseline—we were intent only on laying out our equipment in certain hot spots—or those areas where Heath and I were sensing a lot of activity. We intended to place our meters and thermal gauges and night-vision cameras in those locations where he and I felt they might capture poltergeist activity when we weren’t around. And as we edged into the tunnel, I knew almost immediately that we could pretty much plop our equipment anywhere, and something somewhere was likely to capture and record the activity.

  “Can you feel that?” Heath asked me. “It’s like it’s just radiating out of the walls!”

  “I can,” I told him with a slight shiver.

  “What are you two picking up?” Gopher asked, and he made a not-so-subtle gesture toward the camera.

  “Lots and lots of people died here,” I said to him. “Right now, it feels like Heath and I are wading through a sea of g
rounded spirits. It’s incredibly intense.”

  “As bad as up top?” he asked, eyeing us nervously. I knew Gopher was counting on us being able to explore the close, so I was quick to reassure him.

  “No,” I told him. “I mean, there are a lot of grounded spirits here, but it doesn’t have the same intensity. It’s not nearly as terrifying.”

  “In other words, it’s bearable,” Heath said.

  At that moment and from just behind us we heard a loud series of knocks, like someone rapping their knuckles against the rock. “What was that?” Gopher whispered uneasily.

  “Hello?” I called out. “Is there anyone who wishes to communicate with us?” There was no reply. “If you would like to talk with us, please knock on the walls to make yourselves heard.”

  For a moment, nothing happened, and then all around us came hundreds and hundreds of knocks. The sound was loud, and powerful and intense and freaking scary. “Ahhhhhhh!”screamed Russ.

  “Shiiiiiiiiiiit!” screamed Jake.

  “Holy Christ!” screamed Gopher.

  And as if all three of them had the exact same thought at the exact same time, they collectively shouted, “Run!” and bolted, leaving Heath and me standing in the middle of the cavern all alone.

  “Stop!” I yelled at their departing forms.

  In hindsight what happened next was pretty amusing; our brave crew didn’t stop, but the knocking did. “Good job,” Heath said with a playful smile. “Way to scare away the crew, M. J.”

  The situation was so ridiculous that I began to laugh. Heath snickered, then chuckled, then began laughing in earnest too, and before long we were leaning against the walls for support as tears leaked down our cheeks and we took turns pantomiming the terrified crew who’d just abandoned us.

  When we’d collected ourselves again, I heard Gilley’s concerned voice sound loudly into my ear. “M. J.?! Are you there? Over.”

  I giggled and clicked my headpiece’s microphone on. “Hey, Gil,” I said. “I’m here. Over.”

  “You guys okay?”

  “Fine,” I assured him. “And I take it the crew has made its way back to you?”

  “Yes,” he said. “And they’re totally shaken up. What happened?”

  “M. J.’s been working the crowd,” Heath said with a laugh.

  “What?”

  “Nothing,” I told Gilley. “I’ll explain it to you later. Listen, in my duffel is there a camera?”

  “Yes,” he told me. “You and Heath both have four night-vision cameras in each of your bags.”

  I set down my duffel and fished around inside, quickly locating the cameras. “Fabulous,” I said. “I’ve got them.” I motioned to Heath and he also set his duffel down to retrieve a camera. “Tell Gopher that we’ll record things from here. I doubt the crew will want to come back into the close tonight, right?”

  It was Gilley’s turn to laugh. “Russ and Jake have already quit,” he told me. “Gopher’s trying to talk them out of it as we speak.”

  “Figures,” I said. “Okay, well, we’ll get to work. You monitor from your end and make sure you’re getting readings from all our equipment.”

  “Roger that.”

  I swung my duffel bag back onto my shoulder and motioned Heath forward. “Keep your senses alert,” I cautioned. “If this gets too intense, we’ll set off a grenade and push back the energy.”

  “It already feels intense,” Heath said quietly.

  I knew exactly what he meant. I felt bombarded by energy coming at me from all sides. It was a bit like entering an unseen crowd that was pulling on your clothing or whispering in your ear. At one point I even batted the air next to my head when I felt a cold breath blow the hair around my neck.

  It was hard to get focused and think clearly. Hell, it was even hard to move. To distract myself, I reached back into the duffel and pulled out an electrostatic meter. I turned it on and immediately it began to register activity. “We’re in a hot zone,” I said.

  “You don’t need a gadget to tell you that,” Heath said.

  I smiled ruefully. “Well, it helps to see it on the meter sometimes.” I put the gadget on the floor of the long cavern near the wall. “Gil?” I asked. “Are you picking up the readings?”

  There was a whistle in my ear. “Man,” Gil said. “Where are you guys?”

  “In hell,” Heath answered, and I had a feeling he wasn’t really kidding.

  “Readings are off the charts,” said Gilley. “Your meter’s already in the red. M. J., you might want to secure a camera to the wall where you’re standing. It seems like it’s a good spot to pick up some activity.”

  “Copy that,” I said.

  With some help from Heath I was able to secure one of the small cameras to the wall, and then I stood in front of it and backed slowly away so that Gilley could tell us if he had a good picture on his monitors. “A little to the left,” he told Heath, who was in charge of adjusting the lens.

  After a few tweaks Gilley was satisfied and we continued to move deeper into the corridor. “How’s your breathing?” I asked Heath at one point, only because I felt the air all around us had gone from damp and chilly to hot and stifling.

  “I’m having a hard time catching my breath,” he admitted. “Also, I think I’m running a fever.”

  I placed a hand on his forehead and he did in fact feel warm. “Oh, man,” I said.

  “What’s the matter?” Gil asked.

  “Heath’s sick.”

  “Does he need to come out?”

  Heath shook his head. “I’m okay,” he assured us. “Just a little queasy, but I can push through. Come on, let’s get this baseline done already.”

  We continued for about another forty-five minutes and my concern for Heath’s condition mounted. He looked pale and shaky, and he’d broken out into a cold sweat. He also appeared to be having difficulty swallowing and I swore the lymph glands around his neck looked thick and swollen.

  “That’s it,” I finally said to him as we encountered another hot spot and I got out the seventh camera. “This is the last camera we’re putting up. I’m calling it a night.”

  Heath didn’t argue with me; instead he just blinked drowsily. “Okay,” he agreed as if saying the word took effort.

  As we were struggling to fasten the last camera in place, I heard Gilley’s voice burst into my ear, “What the freak is that?!”

  Gopher’s voice joined Gilley’s in the background. “Holy shit! Did you see that?!”

  “What’s going on?” I demanded.

  Heath winced and pulled his headset off. “They’re too loud,” he whispered.

  “M. J.!” Gil shouted. “Ohmigod! You’re not going to believe what we just captured on film!”

  At that moment I was struggling with the camera, which wouldn’t stay still against the slippery rock. “I’m a little busy, Gil. Can you tell me later?”

  “No,” he said. “I can’t.”

  I sighed and stepped away from the rock with the camera still in hand. “Fine, what’s going on?”

  “Something big and black just dashed across camera one,” Gil said excitedly.

  “Human?” I wondered.

  “Definitely not,” Gil said.

  Gopher’s voice took over—he’d obviously donned a headset. “M. J., it was like some sort of smoky shadow just flew by the camera.”

  “What’d it look like exactly?” I asked.

  “It didn’t really look like anything. It was sort of like a big blob of dark mist moving through the air really fast.”

  “And it’s gone now?”

  “It is,” Gilley confirmed.

  “Okay,” I said, returning to trying to mount the camera. “Let me know if it comes back.”

  I’d just gotten those words out of my mouth when both Gilley and Gopher shouted, “Whoa!” in my ear.

  I winced just like Heath had and dropped the camera. “Hey,” I yelled. “Volume, guys!”

  “M. J.!” Gilley squealed. “The shadow!”

  “Is it back?”

  “Yes and no,” Gil said, his voice holding a tremor.

  “What does that mean?”

  “Yes, it’s back, but it’s not back in front of cam
era one. It’s hovering right in front of camera two!”

  The hair on the back of my neck prickled and a chill raced up my spine. “It’s on the move?” I asked.

  “Well, if by ‘on the move’ you mean it went from camera one to camera two, then yes, but right now it seems to be holding steady right in front of . . . oh . . . wait! There it goes again! Okay, it flew off and out of sight.”

  I eyed Heath, who was looking dully at me and holding his right arm out at an odd angle. “What’s wrong with your arm?” I asked him, momentarily forgetting about the camera and the shadow.

  “My armpit hurts,” he said. “And I feel like crap.”

  I set the camera on my duffel and moved over to him. Taking him by the arm, I coaxed him over to a small boulder and sat him down. I felt his forehead again, which was even hotter than before. “Honey, we’re gonna have to get you out of here and into bed.”

  Heath nodded and began to tug at his sweater and then his shirt. “My armpit really hurts,” he said. I helped him raise his clothing and the moment he had it up to his chin, I sucked in a breath. “What is it?” he asked me without any hint of alarm. “Is it swollen or something?”

  The area right under Heath’s arm was indeed swollen and a huge black boil emerged that was so ghastly-looking that I took a full step back. “Gilley,” I said into my microphone, forcing my voice to sound calm. “We have a situation down here. Heath’s in really bad shape. I think we need to get him out and to a hospital. Immediately.”

  But at that moment both Gilley and Gopher erupted in a fit of noise and shouts. For several seconds I couldn’t understand what they were yelling about, but then I clearly heard Gil say, “It’s at camera three! M. J.! It’s moving in your direction!”

  My heart began to race. Heath and I had laid six cameras along our route, which twisted and turned along the main corridor of the close. If the shadow that was making its way along the tunnel was in fact following our trail, it was only about three hundred yards behind us.

  “What’s it doing?” I demanded. The shadow was obviously a spook, but at this moment I didn’t know how powerful a spook it was, and I had Heath to worry about.

  “It’s just hovering,” Gilley whispered. “It’s like it’s looking right at us!”