Saturday, May 10th , 5:50 p.m.
"Really, you shouldn't come along on this bust in your condition, this one seems pretty nasty!" said Ray, putting his jumpsuit on.
"There is no need to worry, Ray. I am capable of taking care of myself," Egon replied, changing batteries of his beloved meter.
"Yeah, just like that time you nearly got hit by a bus." Peter's voice came from his office. "But I must say that my favorite incident still was when you fell into an open manhole-"
"Okay, okay…I get the point. I'll stay in Ecto and take readings. Is this all right with you, doctor?"
A few minutes and they were ready to go. Passing by Janine's desk, Ray stopped. "Hey, what about Janine? I'm sure she took only one day off. She should've been here by now."
"No big deal, we cut her salary," Peter put in with a cocky grin.
"Really, Peter, this is strange. It's 6 p.m. and she should have been here two hours ago. Five years Janine's worked for us and she's always used to call when she needed more time off," Winston added.
"I don't like this," said Egon anxiously and automatically went for the small yellow phonebook Janine kept into a drawer of her desk 'just in case', as she would have said. In the meantime, Winston had already swung around the phone and dialed Janine's home number. No answer. Then Egon tried calling Janine's parents. The last they had heard from her was on Thursday night.
"We all were tired on Thursday night. She may have forgotten she took only one day off, she's probably convinced she took two of them," said Ray, fidgeting with the nice address book.
"Listen to me, guys," Winston suggested. "Mr. Smith's place is near Janine's neighborhood. We go catch Mr. Smith's ghost, then we go to her place and find out what happened. Sound good?"
xxx
They soon found out the ghost was nothing but an ordinary class2 gooper that didn't really like Mr. Smith's furniture. Indeed, it started throwing chairs and books everywhere, especially at the four Ghostbusters, which made the job ten thousand times nastier. It took them forty minutes, eight chairs, a precious Murano vase and an entire encyclopedia to trap the little blob of purple slime. An angry Mr. Smith "greeted" them right outside his devastated house. "I'm really glad you have busted the little bastard-"
"Yes, we already know we're good at our work…let's talk about business," started Peter as the other three went to Ecto to put the equipment back. The strange sensation in their stomachs was becoming stronger. Two minutes later Peter joined them, holding a considerable check in his hand. "Now, gentlemen, we are ready to go," he said, but without his usual enthusiasm.
Something was really wrong.
xxx
Janine's home was no more than six blocks away. Winston parked Ecto in a no-parking zone right under her windows, then they all got out and Egon rang the bell. No answer. Another ring. Nothing.
"Maybe we should have tried to phone again," Ray put in, but the strong displeasing feeling had already caught their stomachs, knotting them tightly.
"Lemme try again." Peter fiercely rang the doorbell, but still got no answer. "Okay, then. Key!" he ordered, mimicking the moves of a surgeon. The blond man took his bunch of keys out from his pocket and in no time they all had reached Janine's apartment, five floors up. Peter slowly inserted the first key, and then the second…tension was devouring them. Finally the fifth lock was unlocked and the door opened with a slight creaking sound.
Doors and windows were shut; everything was in order and the daylight gently filtered through the light blue curtains.
"I really don't like this," said Egon firmly as he turned on his meter.
"Yep. Those curtains are a kick in the pants," Peter added, trying to break the tension of the moment.
The meter remained silent for a few seconds, then went wild. "T-that's not possible! These readings-get down!" They threw themselves to the floor as Egon launched the meter through the nearest window with all his strength. She shattering of the glass was overshadowed by the noise of the meter when it exploded outside.
"Shit," muttered Winston under his breath.
"All right, gentlemen. There are three rooms in this apartment: kitchen, bathroom and bedroom. I suggest one person stays here in the living-room while the others check the rooms," said Egon while adjusting another meter.
"I got dibs on the kitchen. Why don't you go check the bedroom, Egon, honey?" asked Peter mischievously.
"Why should he-" started Ray.
"You're still too young for these things, Tex. C'mon, go check the bathroom, okay?" Winston cut in. "I'll stay here."
"Not funny," muttered the physicist.
xxx
Peter unceremoniously kicked open the door to the kitchen and turned on the light. The kitchen was silent. "Yoo-hoo? Melnitz, are you in there?" He looked under the table and even into the fridge-just in case Zuul had chosen to pass the weekend in it. "Yo, guyysss! Nothing's-" He was interrupted by a startled yell from one of the other rooms.
At the same time, Ray had just finished checking the bathtub and was now surveying the floor. The yell caught him unprepared and made him bonk his head against the sink.
xxx
As Egon touched the knob, the door opened. The room was dark and strangely cold; at first sight everything seemed to be in order. Then, in the shadows he sensed a sprawled form on Janine's twin bed. The knot in his stomach became even tighter than it already was and his hand reached hastily for the light switch. He was heartbroken at the sight and an involuntary yell slipped through his half-opened mouth.
"JANINE!" In a blink of time, he had reached her on the bed and had taken her naked body into his arms. Egon's hands trembled as he ran a finger over her neck, searching for a pulse.
xxx
The first thing the other Ghostbusters saw as they came running into the room was Egon's figure kneeled on the bed, holding the unconscious woman. "Wha-Ohmygosh!" Ray ran to the bed, Peter and Winston hot on his heels. Janine was naked and unmoving, her eyes closed and the pale face was lined with dried tears and melted make up.
"She's alive," Egon breathed. "There is no evidence of wounds or breaks… but she's feverish…"
Peter easily noticed how much effort his friend was putting into keeping his voice steady; this woman meant so much to him. Peter sat on the bed and gripped Egon's shoulder with a firm hand.
"Christ, Ray, go call 911! Quick!" urged Winston. "I'll go look for some blankets!"
Egon absently said, "Blankets are in the wardrobe, third shelf on the right."
"Egon," Peter cautiously ventured, "do you think she's been…"
Egon's eyes grew bigger at the suggestion-he hadn't thought of that, he didn't want to think that- "I-I don't know…I don't think…there is no sign of…of …God, Peter…"
Peter tightened the grip on Egon's shoulder, then let go to help Winston stretch out a green blanket over Janine. "She'll be all right, we'll get the bastard who did this in no time," he whispered into the blond's ear before letting go.
Egon shifted more comfortably under her, lifting Janine up in an almost sitting position in his lap, her head leaning into the base of his neck. He gripped her blanket-clad body and held her tight, though his right arm throbbed in pain. "What happened to you? " he softly whispered in her ear. "What?"
Monday, May 12th, 11:30 a.m.
A sunny day's light gently caressed my face. As I came to my senses I felt the bittersweet taste of vodka in my mouth and a sickening sensation coming from inside. In a rush I erupted from the couch, got to the bathroom and proceeded to empty my stomach into the toilet. As I shakily stood up the world turned around me and, missing the sink by inches, I fell to the floor and cried in pain and frustration. As I kneeled, the pair of sharp scissors I kept in the glass cabinet caught my attention. Escape seemed so desirable a chance. Yes, just a little pain, then…
The phone brought me back to reality. At first my brain didn't even register the annoying ring, but then it brought me back to reality. "This could be the guys," I thought, carefully trying to stand up from the icy floor. "Please don't hang up, don't hang up…"
The phone rang and rang and the moment I snatched up the receiver, whoever had called hung up. "Damn!" I muttered, plopping down on the bed. On the twin bed. Our bed. Sudden memories of warmth and love came from the back of my mind. Fighting the tears, I rose and dressed. "No time to mourn, Melnitz," I said aloud. "The guys need you."
The sun hurt my eyes as I walked out of the building and into the car. New York traffic seemed like a blessing that morning: I didn't want to go to the firehouse, didn't want to see that place again, and didn't want to see the guys. The thought of it made my soul ache, but they were my friends and needed me to be there for them. Peter most of all.
I still had his distressed face in my head, and knew that it would have taken time for him to let go and share his pain with the rest of us. Then there's Winston. The guy's really a piece of rock. 'Nam made him like this; he's seen lots of friends die. He didn't deserve this, no one would. And Ray, oh, poor Ray…yesterday there he was, crying on Winston's shoulder. Shit Egon, why has this happened to you? Why?