(2/6)
Nick jiggled his Maglite in his hand, the beam blinking in and out even though he had changed out the batteries just last week for a scene at the bottom of a well. He'd had to buy a new pair of Timberland boots after his trusty set stood in stagnant water for hours on end. It took days later to get rid of the smell of mildew from his nose.
"What now? Your light going dead?" Jim asked his own source not behaving right.
"Might want to be careful usin' that word," the beat cop suggested.
The Captain whirled on the guy with a devilish grin. "Why, Condannato, you scared of the dark?"
The younger guy huffed, "No, sir, just don't like temptin' fate."
"Well good. Maybe you could go find us something to use if all our flashlights go out on us."
"You want me to go back out there alone?"
When Brass raised an eyebrow the uni shook his head. "I'll go find us some candles or somethin'," and left, muttering something about how this being how people got whacked in the movies.
Warrick still lounged on the sofa and despite the availability of a comfy-looking leather chair Nick didn't feel like sitting. He walked towards the two lab geeks huddled together. He had to watch his step in the limited light and squatted next to them as his curiosity got the better of him.
"What's that, boss?"
Archie lowered his head sheepishly while Bobby chuckled.
Now he really wanted to know what caused the two techs, who normally talked incessantly, to suddenly clam up. Nick caught sight of some type of device in Archie's hands and he cast his light over it to snag a better look. "What's that?"
The AV wizard tried to slip whatever it was inside one of his jacket pockets but his cohort wouldn't let him.
"Show him," Bobby insisted.
Archie shot his friend a daggered look, but held out his toy for the CSI. "It's an EMF meter."
Nick opened his palm as an invitation and the other man handed it to him without a word. It was a small box, about the size of his hand, a few knobs on the front of the black metal casing and he studied a needle jumping around like a Geiger detector, though he figured that wasn't what it was supposed to track.
"This is monitoring magnetic sources?" Nick looked over at both nerds, tilting the device so they could watch the needle drift slowly side to side.
Archie licked his lips, but any hesitancy evaporated the more he spoke. "Close. It detects the tiniest shift in magnetic and electric fields- even the weakest source."
Nick snuck a look behind him, Jim and Rick safely immersed in their own conversation, as he indulged in geek talk. "What about power lines?"
Bobby grinned at him and Nick couldn't suppress a laugh. "Oh, come on, I understand the principle, searching for ya know…" His head bobbed, lips twisted in thought, but unable to actually say the word.
"Ghosts or paranormal activity," Archie interjected.
Nick's eyebrows arched, teeth gnawing at his lips, feeling all the world like some kid.
"This was designed by a physicist to ignore all manmade EM sources to eliminate any false positives from normal everyday things."
Nick was still mum, but his smile widened.
"He bought it off the Vegas ghost hunters' website." Bobby added.
The criminalist wet his lips and with another glance behind him lowered his voice. "So… ah... anythin' happen?"
Both techs beamed. "Oh, yeah," they answered in unison.
"Where?" he drawled. He couldn't help but feel just a little giddy and it brought out his twang.
Archie stood up from his crouch, the other two rising with him. "It went a little wiggy outside, but then the thing jumped when we were near the stairs."
Nick felt the tingle of excitement, a fuzziness in his belly, but it cooled as the logical part of his mind kicked in. "Show me."
The Asian watched him for a moment as if weighing out the possibility it was just a joke, but he held the device so the Texan could observe. "There are cold spots it detects, like ripples in the field."
Nick followed closely behind with the ballistic expert flanking the bearer of the modern day divining rod. The trio headed towards the beginning of the room, Nick's flashlight the only source for sight, his beam alternating between the readout and ensuring they wouldn't bump into anything.
"Hey, fellas."
Three collective heads turned, Rick's light pointed in their direction. "Where're you all off to?"
Nick's throat felt dry as he cleared it, searching for the right words. Bobby beat him to an answer. "We're checking out changes in the energy effect field within the house." The Georgian grinned in the dark. "Wanna come?"
Nick waited... and… … any second now.
Warrick didn't quite burst out in laughter; it was more like he was fighting for air. After the failed attempt to not laugh like a hyena the other criminalist controlled himself. "Um, if it involves getting off this couch, then I'm out. But... Um, have fun searching for Casper."
Nick knew he wasn't going to hear the end of this for a very long time. He made sure when he jabbed Bobby in the arm that it left a mark.
A spring dug right into his ass; no matter how many times he adjusted, or shifted his weight, the damn thing poked in places that nothing had any business being. Not only did the damn thing hurt, the couch squeaked... and squeaked loudly with every inch he moved.
"Got ants in your pants, Rick?"
He rolled his eyes, but no way the Captain saw his irritation in the dark. The low fluorescence from the lantern sitting in the middle of the room only reached a few feet; everything else was bathed in dim, low light, then swallowed up by the darkness. He tried leaning back, but all the commotion he caused generated more dust and released mildew in the air. The odor of decay and rot perpetuated in breath after breath.
The rain pelted down on the windowpanes, sheets of water assaulting the house as the storm grew. No doubt the heavy rainfall would make their stay at the Amityville House all the longer. Warrick blew out a breath, aware of the cold damp that hung in the air, the chill sinking into his bones and he shivered involuntarily...the temperature in the room seem to dip down and he wrapped his arms around himself despite how it may look to his co-worker.
"Maybe we can roast some marshmallows."
He snorted at his companion's joke, eyes adjusting every so slowly to his surroundings.
"Or maybe we could find some sleeping bags and tell ghost stories."
Warrick shook his head. "You can't lay off the corny jokes tonight, huh?"
Jim moved closer, his feet making every wooden board creak under his weight. "What can I say, Rick, I missed out at slumber parties when I was a kid."
Warrick sighed, wondering if the others were having as much fun. The wind picked up strength outside, howling in the night, one of the window shutters banging loudly outside. The Addam's Family house was something right out of one of those stupid movies; large, dark, and creepy. The lantern's light flickered on and off, sending shadows across the opposite wall. Warrick found nothing of interest, the rest of the furniture hidden under dingy linen.
In between the flicker of light he made out a lone oil painting that hung above the mantel. His eyes found a set of candleholders, brass or gold, which decorated the dusty shelf. Every few seconds he took in more detail of the few feet he could see in front of him. Spider webs covered every corner, webbing even up inside the fireplace; no doubt when they began the fire it roasted several hundred of Grissom's favorite pets.
The thin silky lines reflected in the light and his eyes examined the intricate designs of the spider's home. Call it his own senses heightened by the wildly macabre setting but his eyes kept drifting towards the painting; the dark tones made it hard to see the subject well. The flickering light reminded him of those filmstrips in school; a peek here and there in between blackness and Warrick made out the stone cold face of a very stern looking gentleman.
Maybe one of the past owners. The man's eyes, even in the dimness, resonated a coldness that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. They stared off into the distance, hollow and lifeless. Warrick gave his head a shake. No way the picture looked like that, had to be the atmosphere, and his mind filling in the spooky tone.
"Think the people who lived here would've taken their stuff with 'em."
Jim's voice and hand on his shoulder made him jump, causing the Captain to chuckle. "Jumpy aren't we?"
"Jeez, man. Don't go sneaking up on a guy like that. I own a gun, remember," Warrick growled, annoyed he startled so easily.
"Sorry, I was getting lonely."
Warrick stood up, tired of dealing with the lumpy sofa and swore he could feel the room grow colder. "Maybe the guys were right to go exploring; at least they're moving around."
Jim pulled at his suit jacket, no way to wrap it around any tighter. "No way I'm going off in the dark in the belly of this place. For all we know there's an army of hungry rats searching for their next meal."
Warrick snorted. "Nah, more like some secret lab in the basement."
"Would have to be a monster in the lab," Brass mused.
The jokes only brought on more sinister and evil ideas; a big old mansion could hold deadly secrets. Warrick tried to suppress a shiver but it only tightened his back as it ran down his spine. He stared back at the painting and the eyes glared right back.
Warrick blinked. Wasn't the guy staring off in the distance before, head turned to the right? He squinted in the darkness and Lord help him if the dark pupils didn't move slowly within their sockets.
He backed away, bumping into his pal.
"Hey, Rick. Careful now."
His heart was so loud in his ears. Warrick swallowed a large lump back. Okay, Brown, stop psyching yourself out.
"You, uh, think the rest of the gang are all right? You know... this house might not even be able to pass a modern inspection. Stairs might be rotted, floor unstable."
The outside roared as the simple science of cold air shifting over warm, created a sonic shockwave. Didn't keep the two men from huddling closer together in an uneasy silence.
"Think we ought to go check on our ghostbusting crew?"
It was stupid. The tight feeling in his gut the result of too many midnight movies as a kid. Warrick didn't want to, but forced himself to glance at the painting, the man's eyes still staring right back at him. No way were they moving.
"I'm just sayin'. Don't want to press our luck with the way everyone's nerves all are keyed up."
Before Jim could add his two cents, both men jumped out of their skins when they heard yelling from deep within the house.
"Ah, damn," Warrick growled, hand dropping to his side arm with Jim doing the same.
They both were out of the room like a shot, Warrick carrying their only light source, and looking back at the eerie room, fearing that those evil eyes would be glistening in glee.
The mansion was huge. Between the long, never-ending hallways and the murals and tapestries that aged away on the walls, all that was missing was a suit of armor stashed away in a corner. The place was drafty, the musty air and their damp clothes made Nick's skin feel clammy. He held his Maglite high, the powerful circle of light allowing them to see only a few feet ahead as the dark seemed to swallow the beam. Every corner of the home creaked, and there was the sound of tiny rodent? feet skittering about whenever they approached.
They hovered around the bottom of the stairs, the two techs trading worrisome glances as they approached their crime scene that had vanished. Archie looked up from his chattering meter at the ceiling as if making sure a corpse wasn't hanging from the banister.
"That thing supposed to go nuts like that?" Nick whispered, not sure why he was doing so.
Archie's eyes were wide, face giddy with excitement. "The energy readings are like five milligauss," he whispered loudly, barely able to contain his enthusiasm.
Nick leaned over his shoulder. "And that means?"
"Anything over two indicates fluctuations in both magnetic and electric fields above normal ranges," Bobby explained in a hushed tone.
The trio began their ascent of the staircase, the popping of their instrument picking up speed.
"The readings are gettin' stronger," Bobby, whispered eagerly. Archie's eyes couldn't beam any more.
Nick alternated between the readings and their direction, the wood creaking under their weight as they went up. He eyed the chandelier as it swayed, sure that there was no disturbance enough to cause the thing to move. He felt himself swallowing back a tiny voice suggesting they ease off a bit, when Archie grabbed his shirt sleeve and gestured towards the hallway.
"Down here!"
It seemed the tech was no longer worried about lowered voices as he sprinted down the hall forgetting that he was supposed to be tiptoeing around. Nick just rolled his eyes and turned to make a joke of it to Bobby, only to find the 'light keeper' had followed suit. They were like two school kids racing on a treasure hunt.
Before he could muster up a 'wait' Nick breathed a, why does this always happen to me, as he chastised himself for getting all caught up in the adventure. One wary look back at the still swinging chandelier and he held onto his hat and dashed after the two techs.
He caught up to them both as they waited impatiently for him in front of a door. "In here, the EM is off the charts!"
"Uh, guys," Nick mumbled as he followed them into another room and waited for his eyes to adjust to his new surroundings. He allowed a low whistle at the number of shelves crammed with books.
"Must be the library," he said in awe.
Bobby held the light aloft, spreading the illumination in a circle to get every inch of the large room. "All we're missing is Colonel Mustard."
"Got a candle stick," Archie joked, but he did indeed hold out a silver one, with a half used stick of wax.
Nick waved his hand, and Archie handed it to him, while he fished out Warrick's matchbook. He lit the candle, amazed that an orange flame grew from the crusty wick. With the two ghostbusters consulting their toy he walked towards one of the bookcases and began to inspect each spine.
"That thing making popcorn yet?" he asked over his shoulder, fingering each dusty cover.
If the guys got his joke they didn't say so. "The thing jumped to six, but tapered off after we got in."
"Maybe you don't have the thing adjusted right," Bobby suggested. "The setting could be off, it has a range of twenty feet right?"
"Yeah."
"Then maybe you need to fine tune it. Could be that the ego plasma moved or it was getting some reading from another room," the Georgian suggested.
Any silly unease at traipsing around a big old mansion wore away as Nick searched through the large array of books. Many were in German with most of the collection an assortment of old scientific texts. He went from shelf to shelf, skipping what looked like a large volume of encyclopedias. His lips quirked at some very outdated chemistry books, recognizing the formulas and equations, but the text still meaningless.
The wealth of knowledge, while ancient by some standards was oddly fascinating. He'd never cared much for fancy collectors' items, but the impressive selection of science stuff piqued the nerd in him. He thumbed through tattered pages of vellum, the edges painted with gold leaf. Curiosity waning finally he set his sights on a large ornate one that lay open, flat on top of a pile because its size was too large to be filed correctly.
He hefted the tonnage as his buddies argued over parameters and electron impulses. Frick and Frack debated more about the physics of energy waves than he cared to follow. He tilted his candle a little more to examine what wound up being some type of zoology book.
He flipped it shut to look at the front cover. Species of the Australian Outback.
"Hey, Nick."
"Hmmm." He glanced back over to see the two nerds awaiting some kind of an answer. He wet his lips. "Um, sorry. What's up?"
Archie tilted the meter for him to see. "I think there was a fluctuation and... well we were going to go further down the hall and see if we couldn't find the source of the cold spots."
Bumping around in the dark, hunting phantoms was fun, but he preferred inspecting his new find.
"You guys go without me. I think I'm going to stick around and take a look at what's here."
For the first time the two techs acted nervous. Nick had the presence of mind to look indignant. "Go on," he drawled. "Let me know if you find anything."
"Ya sure?" Bobby hesitated.
Nick put on his sternest expression, but allowed a smile to appear. "Think I'll be fine reading a book."
Archie bounced on his feet. "We'll only be a few minutes."
"I'll be here."
Nick went back to flipping through more of the text, running across ink drawings of a platypus. Some of it was actually in English and he got a kick out of some of the descriptions. This had to have been in the owner's family before he had possession of it. Glancing back up and noting the antique fireplace and the old fashioned pistol mounted on the wall, he knew the book could be as old as the 18th century.
God, he was acting like Grissom when he found a new eight-legged friend. He smirked and set the candle down on a higher slot above him so the light would be enough to read by. He thumbed through a section on exotic fish and other sea creatures, then stopped when it came to indigenous species of birds. Out of habit he looked around to make sure no one was about and then began reading the rest in earnest.
The flame flickered and Nick felt his skin crawl as he shivered. Every hair on his arms stood on end, the room temp dipping so cold that it startled him when his he saw vapor from his breath like that in a freezer. His eyebrows scrunched in confusion, his face and, hell, his nose felt the frigidness of ice as he glanced behind him, an eerie sensation slithering down his spine.
The 5-watt flame did little in such a large space. He gave his head a shake, chalking up his paranoia again to the heebie-jeebies of earlier. The pages of the book were stuck together and he licked his right finger to get them unglued. He had just peeled back the pesky page when something jabbed him in the back eliciting a sharp pain over his kidney.
He grabbed at his right flank when he felt a gust of icy wind in front of him. He smelled the heavy scent of cigar, followed by a punch to his gut. He doubled over, hand protecting his belly, as he struggled with having the wind knocked out of him. His eyes darted wildly in the blackness in search of his assailant. Trying to defend himself was a moot point when no one was there.
He balled up his right fist, waiting for a target, when he was clocked hard in the jaw. His head flew sharply to the right, his teeth rattling in place as his neck snapped with the sheer force to the side of his face. He tasted copper and a trickle of blood ran down the corner of his mouth.
He used the bookshelf as a guide, the pitch-blackness of the room blinding him. His attacker had moved, the air around him swirling like a warm and cold vortex. After the first few cheap shots he was seriously pissed as he stumbled to face whomever was trying to work him over.
"This is CSI Stokes of the Vegas Police Department. I am armed," he announced, hoping his voice would carry outside the room.
He undid the strap on his holster, hand on the butt of his gun, when he heard something metallic clanking in the distance. He couldn't see two feet in front of him, but the sound of someone over at the fireplace was unmistakable.
He whirled around to confront whatever the threat, his adrenaline pumping. "I need back up in the library!" he shouted. He wasn't a fool, playing cowboy when he didn't know what he was dealing with.
His heart hammered inside his chest and he could scarcely believe his eyes when a poker from the fireplace swam into view. There was no one holding onto the swinging metal tool and he managed to move within the throes of the panic in time to avoid a deadly blow to his skull. Unfortunately, his invisible attacker was tenacious and he didn't duck in time to dodge the follow-up swing. The tip of something hard and solid glanced off his temple.
He saw stars as he stumbled to the ground, gun clattering out of his hands. Dizzy and prone on the floor, he held his arm out blindly to defend against another hit.
Nothing came crashing down on him, the vapor of his rapid breath fogging up around him. He shivered on the ground, the room still caught in an arctic freeze. He blinked, fighting to stay awake, when he felt icy fingers caress the side of his face.
He flinched at the cold touch, but felt something much warmer and sympathetic in the room. Before he could register what was happening he heard the shouts of his pals behind the door. Fists pounded on the door and he heard the frantic calls of his name.