Chapter 7: Why Bother?
Hide yelled! He jumped out of the way just in time, landing on the spot where he had just been standing a few moments earlier, after a good chunk of the ceiling above him had been demolished by a rogue proton stream. He looked over at Tim, holding a smoking particle thrower , trying to adjust its output frequency and his aim.
"Sorry, man", Tim said. "Didn't you hear me say 'heads up!'?"
Hide grumbled something under his breath. As it was the first mission for the newest crew of Ghostbusters: Doom Patrol, their debut outing was already falling apart at the seams.
They had been called out to Wynnewood Lanes, a bowling alley eighteen minutes Northwest of Philadelphia. Before that, they (Orla Wainwright, Tim Bondo, and himself) had all undergone training with senior members Salina Duran and Client Administrator Erin Cummins, while Rob Statler had shown them all the basic workings of their arsenal against the restless deceased. After seeing Erin in action for the first time, Hide wondered if all secretaries were as in touch with getting their hands dirty on the job with their emlpoyers as she did. Orla proved to be a natural with a proton pack. Rob wasn't surprised, taking into acount her previous thespian experiences in Florida. As for Tim and Hide, they weren't too far behind each other as far as their individual skills were concerned. Which, in Hide's mind, meant that one was way worse than the other.
That week's worth of training had all led them to this: as Salina had explained it to them, a pink colored Class V full-roaming vaporous apparition was now throwing insults at both Tim and Hide, laughing condescendingly at the two of them.
"Like, you guys suck!" it shouted at the both of them.
"I got something you can suck right here!" Tim shouted and fired an unwieldy stream towards it that missed the target completely. The ghost, which appeared to be the disembodied soul of a slain sorority cheerleader, looked behind itself and then back at the two Ghostbusters standing on the ground.
"Is that the best you can can do?", The feminine ghost asked in a patronizing tone of voice. "I mean, my god…my great-grandma could piss and aim better than that. You call yourselves Ghostbusters?"
Hide raised his eyebrows in amazement.
"You know, toots, with an attitude like that, no wonder you're dead. It's our first night, alright. Cut us some slack", Tim replied while lowering his guard. The ghost flew away in a huff toward the back offices, as it phased through the solid wall.
"I swear, man. No respect for the working class", Tim said and shook his head while a bewildered Dr. Tanaka looked on.
"Guys, what's your status!" Orla's voice called out as her visage was shown over the digital monitor of the wrist-worn Wi-Fi communicator that Rob had designed. It was an updated version of his original model, a modern marvel that could produce sound, closed captions, and video clarity (at a size no bigger than the screen dimensions of a cell phone) via advanced television and radio transmissions.
"Alive and kickin' Ms. Wainwright", Tim replied, not mentioning that they were just insulted by Casper the bitchy ghost.
"Which direction did it go?"
"Hold on." Tim fumbled for a minute with the PKE meter. He still hadn't quite got the hang of how it worked, or for that matter what the hell everything meant on the screen.
"The light looks like it's pointin' due north", he said. "Headin' your way."
"Thanks. Wainwright out."
"Hey, what's this mean right here?"
"What?"
"This." Tim was pointing to a small blip on the screen.
"Whaddya asking me for? Hell if know."
"Didn't Statler say something about it usually making a noise like this, that it wasAARGH!" A pink tentacle suddenly wrapped itself around Tim's leg, pulling him to the ground and down the lane, sending him straight towards the pins.
"OH SHIT!", Tim shouted.
xxx
"You hear something?" Erin asked looking up. She was standing with Salina and Orla in the lower basement of the alley.
"What?" Orla asked
"Sounded like...somebody bowling a strike."
Orla sighed and shook her head. "Those two..."
"Yeah, like Farley and Spade, eh?"
Suddenly, the sorority ghost shot out between the two women, catching Orla off guard as her hand instinctively went to her particle thrower, at the same minute that Salina and Erin whipped theirs out. Orla and Salina fired simultaneously, missing the ghost as it darted through the basement; Erin knicked its vapor trail, avoiding temporary capture.
"Toss another one!" Salina shouted. Erin and Orla fired again, hitting their mark as it disappeared behind a wall.
"We've got a lock on it now", Orla cheered as she studied her PKE. She had quickly become accustomed to using the equipment. Despite once using nothing more than a prop at Universal Studios, oddly enough she somehow felt more familiar with the real thing.
"Where'd it go?" Erin asked.
"Back upstairs. Probably up where Tim and Hide are", Orla replied.
Salina averted her attention from Orla, murmuring something under her breath, inaudible to all...
...except Erin, who cast her a perturbed and narrow glare.
Just then, a penetrating yell echoed throughout the hall and an out-of-breath Hide ran up to them.
Orla turned around as he approached her. "What are you doing down here? Where's Tim" she asked.
Finding a minute to catch his breath, Hide explained.
"Something grabbed him when we weren't looking. He's down here somewhere."
"You mean there's two?"
Hide nodded.
"Ah, now that makes sense doesn't it?", Salina said. "I noticed a smaller reading in addition to our quarry."
"All right…guys, we get the semantics", Erin interjected and looked back towards Dr. Duran. "Anyway, Salina , can you jerry-rig the PKE up so we can catch the second ghost?"
Reaching inside her small pouch around her waist, she pulled out a screwdriver. Flicking up the bottom compartment of her PKE, she began to tweak a small wire before saying "Done."
She examined it for a minute and stood silent. She then pointed past Erin.
Tim's faint yelling continued.
"That way", she said.
xxx
"GAHHH! I knew I shouldn't have had had that cheesesteak for lunch!" Tim shouted.
He was wrapped in a gelatinous pink tentacle, attached to a creature that appeared to be a combination JELL-O mold and Jabba the Hut.
The monster's tongue hung out of it's mouth, and was proceeding to lick Tim's body.
"Listen. I have tickets to the Eagles/Jets game this weekend and I'd Iike to be alive to use them. So, will somebody please shoot the fucking monster!"
"Don't worry man, we've got this under control. Hang around for a second." Hide shouted. He then looked to Erin. "We do have this under control, right?"
"Of course", she replied not a hundred percent sure of herself.
Hide gave the thumbs up and then crossed his arms. "Aw, crap", he said.
"What's wrong?" Orla asked.
"I wish I had my polaroid for this."
The women cracked a smile.
"Hold on a sec, Mr. Bondo", Erin said as she, Orla, and Salina readied their particle throwers. "You might wanna turn your head."
"Huh?" Tim's eyes widened
"On my mark", Erin counted down. "1…2…3"
The three fired at once, capturing the monster in a containment field. It dropped Tim to the ground with a loud thud.
Hide smirked. "Have an accident?" he said coyly.
Tim looked up and replied bluntly, "No thanks. Just had one."
The sorority ghost then materialized from the ceiling above Hide's head.
"Petey! Ugh! This is the last time I let you take me out on a date. Do you see what you got me into?", the sorority ghost said.
All: "Petey??"
"What? Like, I can't have a social life in the after life?"
"Well, this pretty much marks my 'what the fuck moment of the night'", Tim said. "Look, um…lady…"
"Someone wanna' tell me what the hell he's doing?", Salina asked allowed while everyone's proton streams were still fixed on 'Petey'.
"Welcome to my world", Hide replied.
Tim continued, "…Seems we're at a stalemate. We've got your boyfriend and you're in a position to do whatever the hell you want with us."
"Hey he's cute and all and has really big tentacles, but he's not my boyfriend. You can do what you want with him for all I care. But, you attacked me, not the other way around. I'm pissed and pretty much feel like killing you now. So there!"
"Be that as it may, there's not much I can do about that. Its my job and I make no apologies. But, I can guarantee you this, if you jump into that trap that my partner's holding up over there, we'll take you to a place where you'll always have your fill of dead and eligible bachelors ."
"Yeah? You're not fibbing are you?" Her eyes glowed fiery red. "Because I hate being lied to."
"Cross my heart and hope to live. Right guys?"
All: "Right!"
"Well…OK!" The cheerleader ghost agreed. "Sorry, Petey, you weren't exactly doing it for me anyway. Smooches, Ghostbusters!"
"Okay, Hide, throw out the trap!" Salina yelled.
Nodding, Hide unfastened the original Mark IV style trap from his pack and held it in his hands, letting the pedal fall to the floor. "On three...three!" He mashed the pedal and a bright light enveloped the two ghosts, both disappearing within seconds.
Orla whooped. "We did it!"
"Goddamn", Tim let out a gasp and dropped to his knees. "He looked at Salina."
The group smiled and laughed.
Salina laughed. "Pulled that one out of your ass, eh, Mr. Bondo?"
Erin and Hide holstered their particle throwers back into their slots before helping Tim to his feet.
"Okay, everyone, that's a wrap. Let's collect our fee and head home", Salina said.
"Mr. Bondo, that was amazing", Erin congratulated Tim. "How do you feel?"
"I need about ten pints of Michelob before I can say I'm 'good to go'", Tim sighed and the Doom Patrol left through the remains of what was left of the front entrance of the bowling alley.
xxx
"Petey?"
The GBDP were back in the basement of headquarters underneath the arch of the Ben Franklin Bridge. Tim, Hide, and Orla were seated on desk chairs in a small semicircle; Rob stood perched on a crutch in the middle.
Behind him was the group's Ecto Containment Unit, a hulking mass of metal and machine that is the "final" stop for the paranormal spirits that are unfortunate enough to have been captured by the team.
Prior to the events of last summer, it had been modeled somewhat after the one used by the New York branch. But since then and to occupy his time during his recovery, Rob had upgraded it, so that the original problem of space had somewhat been avoided.
"First and foremost guys, the ECU is a laser containment field that acts as a larger version of our proton packs. Think of the ghosts as a magnet block: a relationship between Positives and negatives. Because the field is positive, they'll automatically merge with the negative make up of the ghosts, ensnaring them in the entrapment barrier. Which brings us to: How to deposit an ethereal creature into the unit."
He pulled down a shaft and inserted the trap inside of the grid. "Set your entry co-ordinates. Make sure it's specific to the class reading of the ghost. Otherwise, you'll have a South on south effect."
"Which is?" Orla asked.
"All kinds of bad", Hide explained leaning over towards her.
"Exactly. Now, set your entry grid..." Rob pushed several buttons on the qwerty keyboard and directional pannel of the new digital monitor and several grating electronic snaps were heard as he inserted the the trap inside of the unit. "Neutronize. System shut...and there. Light is green. Trap is clean." He tossed the now empty trap into a bin, marked FOR RECHARGE.
"There is one more thing I need to add. As a security precaution, only employees of Ghostbusters: Doom Patrol have access to the ECU. I've made sure of that by installing fingerprint indentification. The machine will not operate unless it recognizes you. When we started the Philadelphia division, we were told that the reason why the containment field explosion occurred in New York's sector back in '83 was because it was shut down by people who had no idea what they were doing. And this almost happened again last year when Thorsen's disciple threatened to break into the grid. We're not taking any more chances. So, when you all arrive for work tomorrow morning, I'll need to upload your prints into the machine. S'alright?"
Tim gave the thumbs up sign and everyone cleared out.
Upstairs, Erin and Salina were busy filing the case report.
"Hell of a night tonight, huh?" Erin said with her back towards Salina.
Salina nodded.
"Salina, I think you're a being bit hard on Orla."
Salina remained silent and continued filing papers.
Salina?
…
Salina??
Salina turned around slowly to face Erin. "What do you want, Erin?"
"You've been riding her harder than you have Tim and Hide. Granted they're big boys and can take care of themselves, but you don't have to try and scare Orla. She's been doing great so far and I don't understand why your being so…"
"What? Look, I'm not trying to do anything other than my job", Salina replied. She turned her back again.
"If that's wrong then tell me."
"No, I don't think it's wrong. But, Orla's shown more strength than many of us gave her credit for. Any normal person, and I mean that as in anyone who doesn't do what we do for a living, would've cracked after what they'd have seen earlier tonight. What I do think is that somethings bothering you and you're not telling us what it is. If its not about Orla, then what's wrong? If something's the matter, you would tell me woudn't you?"
"Nothings wrong."
"But..."
"Erin, please. Let's leave it at that. Our shift is over. You can go home; get some rest. Life's too short to be worried about me, kid."
Erin sighed quietly to herself and said nothing more.
Tim blew into the office area whistling. "Well, ladies and gents I'm off to my affordable rent-controlled housing that you so graciously provided for me."
"You make it sound like a bad thing", Erin said.
"Nah, I'm just jokin'. It ain't bad. I need to unwind. I've seen enough weird shit for one day. The night's young and I feel like having a few beers."
"Cool. Is Rob going with you?" She asked.
"Nope. He said he has some things to do. Didn't look like he was up to it anyway."
"Oh."
As he got to the door, he noticed Hide walking up to the desk, waving good-bye to the girls.
"Masato. Ol' Bondo's gonna' show you how to paint the town green."
"That's red.", Hide corrected him.
"Red's for amateurs."
"Now, explain to me again how I got stuck with you.
"Because you lost."
"No fair. I've never played 'Texas Hold 'Em' before."
"Ain't my fault. Don't play a game you can't win."
Hide frowned.
"Don't look so down, son. It's Friday night. We're gonna' raise some hell."
Tim began singing.
"Oh, the devil went down to Georgia. He was lookin' for a soul to steal. He was in a bind 'cause he was way behind. And he was willin' to make a deal…"
Hide rushed Tim out of Salina's office toward the front entrance of the lobby of the highrise. Orla, who was behind them, folded her ams and rolled her eyes.
"Those two... Well, gang, I'm out as well for the night."
As she said this, the phone rang over at CJ's empty desk.
"I'll get it!" Orla said going towards it. "Ghostbusters: Doom Patrol, Orla Wainwright speaking." She listened for several seconds, before she said, "Okay, hold on just one minute." She looked over at Erin, cupping her hand around the speaker.
"Uh, Erin?"
"Yeah?"
"You didn't mention we have a police contact."
Erin's eyes lit up. "Oh really?" She took the phone.
"Erin Cummins. Good evening detective. How may we assist you today?"
Chapter 8: Welcome to Woop Woop
The crescent moon hung ominously as its light shown in the horizon above 1118 Crescent Place, the former home of Louis Chaney. Stars dotted the misty heavens that, in Detective Wyatt Madison's mind, held more truth to the world than anyone could ever fathom.
Like a painting, he thought. Nothing but lies, deceit, and death.
He reached inside his trenchcoat and removed a pack of Camel 100's from his breast pocket. Some in the department regarded his choice of attire as overly dramatic. 'Bogart'they called him; a nickname he took no offense to. Madison wasn't the type to call attention to himself. Sitting on the stone ledge with his back to Chaney's house, he pulled out a thin cigarette and placed it between his lips, but didn't light it as he continued to gaze toward sky in stoic thought.
"I don't like this one bit." Madison's young partner, Keaton, folded his arms as he stood next to his superior. The older detective didn't need to turn his head towards the young man's direction to note that Keaton's expression maintained a mixture of conceit, frustration, and, hatred.
"Cool off", was all Madison said reaching for the Zippo his ex-wife had given him as a birthday present. A light summer wind began to pick up, casting his more-pepper-and-less-salt colored hair to the side.
"With all due respect, sir", Keaton replied, "I feel that no one other than the law should be involved in this case. The chief…"
"The chief was fine with it", Madison intoned. "For your information, it was his suggestion to get them involved."
"I understand, sir, but still…we all know what they did last summer…and what happened as a result…"
Madison knew what Keaton was inferring. How could he not know, after the gossip that abounded in the Philadelphia Police Department 7th Division? Keaton could not understand why Madison would stick his neck out for that group of vigilantes?
"Keaton, the order has already been given to us. They're allowed here because they work within the confines of the law."
"Sir, I strongly believe that we should avoid them at the stake of the department's reputation. They're a liability. I read their file: at least two of their members have real military backgrounds, and I mean Covert Ops training. Their science can be used to re-write the human genome if they wanted to…"
Keaton quieted for a few moments as Madison took a few drags on his cigarette, letting the smoke fill his lungs before exiting through his nostrils.
"But they don't", replied Madison. "They like where they are now because that's where they want to be."
Keaton was ready to protest again, but it was becoming obvious that his partner's patience was growing thin.
"Detective", he said, choosing his words carefully but drawing them out slowly. "I appreciate the concern sport, but I'd recommend that you drop it."
"Yes. Sir."
Off in the distance, Madison could see the familiar blue strobe lights of the ECTO-1M, sputtering along casually.
xxx
Salina Duran and Orla Wainwright stood in front of Madison and Keaton.
Orla said nothing while unloading the Giga and PKE meters from the car as Salina did most of the talking.
That was the silent agreement, when Erin opted out of joining them.
"Give her a chance Orla", Erin petitioned when she pulled Orla to the side. "She's not a bad person. Just...this last year has been hell for her more than it has for anyone else."
And Orla understood this. But it seemed to her that it would take a bit more than being polite to truly understand Salina.
"Good to see you again, detective", Salina said politely.
"Pleasure's all mine", Madison said in the same manner. Keaton harrumphed under his breath, knowing that for as much lee-way as Madison tried to give the Ghostbusters, there was still that that twinge of animosity that existed prior to Keaton joining the force. "Doctor, have you met my new partner yet? John Keaton, this is Dr. Salina Duran, Co-C.E.O of Ghostbusters: Doom Patrol."
"Hello", Keaton said coldly, shaking the woman's hand.
"Good evening. This is Orla Wainwright, she's a new addition to the team", she said pointing towards Orla. "Pleasant exchanges aside, detective, you called us out here because you needed our help…"
"Right. This way."
Madison unlocked the house, as he and Keaton stepped inside the dark abyss. Salina followed right behind them, but Orla hung back a bit and stared.
It was a two-story home, Dutch colonial. An unusual make for most of the usual suburban homes in the area. She had never heard of this Chaney guy, but she imagined that he must have pulled down a nice little salary to afford a place like this.
But that is not what unnerved her.
The eight rows of empty space with their empty rooms and darkness stared back at her. The front door, with its own darkness, held open by the wind, gaped like an open wound as she looked back at it.
A chill ran up her spine.
Why am I feeling like this? she wondered as she did a final check of the Giga meter. It's like this house…it's the embodiment of all living evil…whatever happened here…
She suddenly felt very cold.
xxx
The house on Crescent was dark.
Salina stumbled, nearly tripping as she banged her knee against a footrest.
"Are you ok, doctor?", Madison asked.
"Yes, just damaged my pride a little bit. Think you could see to shedding some light detective?" she asked. "In the literal sense?"
"Sorry, ma'am", Keaton said. "According to Chaney's daughter, he had the power shut off about four days before he snapped."
"Snapped?" Orla asked.
Madison took another drag on his cigarette before rubbing it out on the end of the ottoman in the living room and then turned to face her. "Louis Chaney wasn't what you'd call upper-class. We don't know how he inherited the house, but from what we know and what we've discovered, it wasn't through legal means. No deed, no mortgage. It was as if the previous owner just suddenly vanished without a trace and Chaney just moved in."
"Strange..." Salina murmured shutting on her PKE meter. Immediately it begin to emit a faint sound. "Do you know what Mr. Chaney was exactly involved in? I mean, otherwise you would not call us if you didn't have an idea."
"There's no getting one over you is there, doctor?" Madison joked.
She smiled, "Not often."
"CSI already combed this area and upstairs. Found nothing that won't really point towards anything out of the ordinary. Blood samples from the kitchen. His basement, though..."
He stopped, creating a pensive pause.
He then walked over towards a door in the kitchen and opened it.
A red light emanated from the inside.
"You'll only be the second and third persons to enter this room", Madison said. "We had one officer check this out, after following a lead from Chaney's daughter."
"What happened to the officer?" Orla asked.
"Shock", Keaton said. "Quit the force two days ago."
Salina looked stone-faced at the basement and pointed her PKE towards it.
The readings were stronger.
"I got 1.8 GEV's on the Giga meter", Orla pointed out.
"Something big happened down there", Salina said.
"We're getting overtime for this one aren't we?" Orla asked.
"Damn straight." Salina replied. She looked around.
No rest for the weary.
Chapter 9: I'm All Right Jack
"What's the matter? You look like you've lost your best friend."
"That's about forty percent of what I feel right about now", Hide said.
His head was pounding from his migraine, each thump from the DJ's bass at Kristopher's felt more like a jackhammer on his skull. Lindsay the Bartender stood over him, forever polishing that glass mug in her hand.
Behind him, Tim was socializing with three women on the dance floor, who believed themselves to be wannabe supermodels.
"It's Friday night in Philly y'all!" the DJ shouted amid the cheers of an ecstatic crowd converging around his booth. "You're all tore up from the floor up. Come on down to Kristopher's, where ya ass needs to be!"
Hide put his head down on the table. "I really hate that guy."
Lindsay shook her head. A week ago, the man in front of her had been so cocksure of himself. Yeah, he was a Ghostbuster now, but what was up with the depression all of a sudden?
"It'd all be alright, you know, if I really knew what the hell I was actually doing."
Lindsay cocked an eyebrow as she filled a gentleman's mug full of Molson's. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, it feels like I'm not doing anything that's actually proving I'm good at anything. I studied for four years at Stanford, top in mathematics, science, chemistry. But what's all that really amount to if you aren't using what you know?"
Lindsay pondered for a moment on this, before Hide continued.
"Tonight, I realized how out of control my life has become. I've lost whatever motivation I started out with. I don't feel like I'm growing at all. Taking two steps back when I think I'm walking forward."
"HI-Dey-OOO!"
Tim strolled up behind Hide and put his arm around the Chemist. In the other hand he had a bottle of Stephen's Cool Lager.
It didn't take Hide very long to figure that Tim was obviously drunk.
"Secret Asian Man, I'd like you to meet three verily loverly ladies...ahhh..what's your name again sweetheart?"
The bubbly young blonde chuckled. "Roxanne", she said.
"Yeah. Roxy. Like dat Sting song."
"Yeah, I know", Hide said hopelessly.
"An' this one here..."
"Claudia", replied the busy brunette in a dark, husky voice.
"And of course the lovely… Lola, right?"
"You got it", Lola said and walked over to Hide. She wore a tight black dress, and stood atop a pair of black pumps supporting a pair of legs that'd lead a willing man straight to glory. She took his drink from him and began sipping it.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Were you done with this?"
"All yours lady", Hide said.
Tim beamed through his tanked expression. "Give me a couple more hours Masato and I think I'll even have a little darln'ready just for you!" As he left, Hide heard Tim loudly sing, "L--L--L-Lola!"
"Friend of yours?" Lindsay asked as Tim and his three dates walked away. She placed another drink in front of Hide.
Looking at her with a shocked expression on his face, Hide replied:
"Are you kidding? If I could go back and time and make sure I never met that asshole, It'd be the happiest day of my life!"
"Then why are you here with him?"
Hide sighed. "I was hornswaggled into it by a teammate of ours. I told Tim that I'd agree to hang out with him if I lost a card game. If he gets drunk and gets into an accident it won't look right for us. So I'm technically his designated driver. Don't let him know, though. Besides, I'm really not as bad at Texas Hold 'Em as he thinks."
"Sure, tiger."Lindsay smiled.
Hide ordered another drink.
"You're something else, you know? Where are you putting all of that?"
A glimmer of a smile showed on Hide's face. "I may not be Chinese, but I got my own secret to holding my liquor."
xxx
Larry Chaney had been wandering the streets of Philadelphia for a week now.
He was surprised nobody had noticed a walking dead man among them, though he did wonder if the police had covered up the whole thing.
Chris couldn't put him up in his place. "It would be bad for a man who's supposed to be dead bunking with a cop", was the reasoning.
Idiot, Chaney thought.
He'd spent two nights in a Hope House uptown, but that wasn't enough. He'd began to feel his inner beast beckon him. A young and nubile volunteer, a woman named Valerie, was at least one catalyst for it. He dreamt about ravaging her lithe supple body, giving into his animalistic desires.
He could not contain himself and took her behind the building, where he'd have his way with her. If it were not for the trinity of several other orderlies off-duty, Chaney might have lived up to his sexual digestion.
So he was once again, marooned in the desolate wasteland of the human race.
He had grown up believing what a squalid thing humanity had become. Those who he'd call "father" and "mother" were of that degree. His paternal guardian killed the woman who gave birth to him, an event which he was forced to witness in his youth. Such an incident would have otherwise caused a lesser child to lose touch with reality, but for Chaney, he was only made more aware. He knew he was different and came to understand that humanity could be so inhuman towards each other.
In the still of the night, he continued to look around.
He found himself surrounded by pimps and prostitutes of varying degrees in the Philadelphia nightlife.
He was disgusted as a red-haired woman brushed up against him.
"Lookin' for a taste big boy?" she cooed.
Indeed, he did.
She wanted to love him…and his money.
He pushed her away, forcefully towards the ground, grunting as she landed.
It took a long time to comprehend what lurked with his soul. It was always there, like a shark underneath the surface of the deep. His true brother helped him know it.
He looked up and saw a pink-and-purple neon sign.
Kristopher's.
Chapter 10: Is There Anybody Out There?
Orla felt, as she descended down the stairs, a chill that wrapped around her bones.
The crimson light coming from the basement was set up by the police; to guide them down the bottomless pit of Chaney's home. The walls were damp, cold and clammy, a pun on the simulation of death itself. Madison took the lead, with Keaton, Salina, and then Orla behind him, their footsteps reverberating off the blank walls.
"How long had Chaney lived here?" Salina asked. Her face was illuminated by the glow of her PKE meter.
"About six months", was Madison's reply. "Came from New York according to the pieces of information we were able to get. Chaney forged a lot of his personal information. Social security number, birth certificate, even dental records. All fakes. His marriage certificate, though, that was real. Married in Cayuga County, New York to Patricia Reichardt."
"What did he do for a living?"
"He was unemployed as far as we could find. Didn't work a day in his life due to a medical condition. Poor bastard was bipolar most of his life. Stemmed from when he saw his father butcher his mother when he was eight."
"And everything came full circle.", Salina said.
"I guess. That's what we thought, until we were told about this."
The group stopped at another door. This one was a stark white and had the familiar yellow POLICE rope around it. Keaton handed Madison a large brass key as he tossed the rope to the side and opened the door. As it swung open, warm air on the other side hit the group immediately, nearly knocking them back. A putrid scent also hung in the air.
Keaton brought a handkerchief to his face as Madison (putting on his best Clint Eastwood) squinted his eyes as he flicked on his high-powered torch flashlight.
"Oh, my God..." Orla breathed.
The entire top of the house had been small, cramped. Almost to the point where living there was impossible.
Larry Chaney's basement resembled a catacomb, with stone walls and a cold concrete floor. It was barren inside and yet the expansiveness of it was breathtaking. Madison rolled the flashlight across the room, revealing the series of pentagrams scrawled upon the small turrets.
A series of stone slabs were in the middle of the room.
"Well, aren't you coming in?" Keaton asked, looking at Salina and Orla. They looked at each other for a moment before walking inside the basement.
"Like I said, Chaney never worked", Madison continued. "And the previous owner, Millford, never had this built."
"So what do you think?" Salina asked.
"Deducing it, I'd say Millford more than likely knew Chaney, allowed him to live in his home prior to the four months that he took over the household. Could have been a year, maybe two, to have actually built this."
"But that would mean", Orla said, "that this Chaney guy never left this house if nobody saw him before four months ago."
"Bingo."
"Whatever happened to Mr. Chaney, detective?" asked Salina as she walked over to the slab.
"As you might have read in the papers a week ago, there was a call to this place made by Chaney's daughter. He had killed her mother, and was attempting to murder her before she ran out to a neighbor's house. A squad car was already in the area and had the area surrounded, in case Chaney should make a run for it."
"Which he didn't, I suppose."
"Right. We actually sent in a SWAT team to go bring him down. Eight men went in. None came out. Only when Officer Drake drilled a bullet through Chaney's chest did it bring him down. When we got in, we found about six of the eight SWAT officers torn to pieces."
"Torn...to pieces?" Orla said.
"As if by an animal. Miss Chaney didn't mention any animals in the house, so they went in there unprepared for whatever it was that killed them. The other two were hiding elsewhere in the house, babbling nonsense that we still haven't been able to figure out."
"And that's why you called us." Salina grinned as she said this.
"There's more if you want to hear."
"Oh, please do. Don't go Agatha Christie on me now."
Madison snorted and shrugged. "The interesting thing we found were these pentagrams. Especially this one." He nodded towards the ground. Orla and Salina saw that they were standing on top of a 100x250 square foot circle, with various Latin, Celtic, and Luciferian symbology carved into it.
Salina knelt down to take a look at it.
Very peculiar, she thought. Her PKE picked up a .118. To have a reading of this level, this circle would almost have to be River-of-Slime level exposure.
There was dried blood along the edges of the pentagram.
A sacrifice
Or sacrifices
had occurred here.
"Orla", Salina said, catching Orla off-guard. That was the first time that Salina had referred to her by her Christian name. "Take a picture of these would you?" She handed her a small camera from her pouch.
"So, you recognize those symbols?" Keaton asked, a note of incredulousness in his voice. Salina either did not hear it or chose to ignore it.
"No, Mr. Keaton, I don't. We may need some time before we can determine what they exactly mean."
"So no ideas then?"
"If I had to make any guesses, Mr. Keaton, I'd reckon they'd be indigenous of the Mover hacia atrás el ir a la mierda clan."
Keaton had a blank look on face as he narrowed his eyes.
"Wh-what does that mean? Is that Latin?"
"No, Mr. Keaton. It's Spanish for back the fuck off."
Madison concealed a grin as he changed the subject, seeing that Keaton's face had suddenly gone scarlet.
"What do the meaning of these slabs tell you, doctor", he asked.
Salina walked over to the slabs. Each one were laid out in a pattern similar to the ruined monuments at Wiltshire.
She walked among them, ruminating on each one as she summed them up. There were no unusual markings upon them; they were missing the pentagrams that ensnared the room. They served no purpose, much like the Wiltshire ruins.
But that's what Chaney would have wanted us to think. Otherwise he would not have left them here for us to study, unless he was an idiot savant with a chip on his shoulder.
"Detective, would it be possible for us to examine Mr. Chaney's body?" she said finally.
"Sorry", Madison said as he lit another cigarette. "But that can't happen."
Salina wrinkled "Why not?"
"Chaney's body went missing that same Monday he died."
"Missing? How?"
Keaton refrained from glaring at his partner. He saw that Madison was revealing too much police information to civilians. It was a "need to know" basis and these Ghostbusters did not need to know any of these facts.
"We don't know yet. There was a struggle in our morgue. Our head doctor, McCoy, was killed by several unknown assailants that took Chaney's body with them."
"Why do you steal a stiff?" Orla wondered.
"Out of curiosity, how was Doctor McCoy's body found?" Salina asked.
Madison cast a quick glance over at Keaton, who shifted his feet around the floor, making a conscious effort not to make eye contact with anyone .
This must be killing him, he thought with a bit of malicious delight.
"Pierced through the heart with one of his own surgical instruments, he was laid down on one of the gurneys as if he was sleeping. The knife was still quivering in his chest."
xxx
Back on the surface, Salina attempted to process the information in her head, as she and Orla walked towards the ECTO-1M. Madison and Keaton went over towards their squad car. The moon was higher in the sky now, but the stars, as the evening was wearing on, were beginning to disappear.
"You guys got any ideas yet?" Madison asked. Orla looked over at Salina, who had her head bowed, deep in thought and shutting everyone out.
The pentagrams.
The stone slabs.
A missing body.
What does it all mean? There's a pattern here somewhere that I'm missing. A puzzle. Pieces of a puzzle that need to be put together. They all fit together, but why?
"Unfortunately detective I haven't anything at the moment", Salina said. Madison only nodded.
"Very well. I had hoped that it would give you guys some thoughts on what that house and our missing corpse have to do with a string of disappearances around town these last few nights."
"Disappearances?"
"Each one occurring at specific times of the night. We've linked a majority of them to this house."
"Fascinating..."
"Indeed. Well, when you kids know something, ring me up."
"Of course, sir. Have a pleasant night."
Madison laughed. "It could only go to hell faster from here."
The squad car pulled off in a huff of smoke, leaving Orla and Salina alone with the Chaney house overlooking them.
"Orla, what was the one thing you were always afraid of as a child?" Salina asked.
"Excuse me?"
"Childhood trauma. A phobia if you want to call it that."
"I was always afraid of the Tall Man", Orla admitted. "I saw Phantasm on a late night show with Elvira once and Angus Scrimm has freaked me out ever since."
"Is that why you said you'd do anything in your abilities to make sure that the supernatural always has a balance?"
Orla did not understand the meaning of these questions. "I don't get you."
"Neither do I. What I do understand is that people are always motivated by what they feared when they were a child. What does Mr. Chaney's basement reveal about the man to you?"
"It tells me he was a paranoid psychotic who finally snapped harder than Garrett Jacob Hobbes."
"I don't think so."
"Then stop leaving me in the dark and tell me what you think." Orla's frustration was apparent.
"I haven't got anything clear cut to say yet, but I'm thinking that Chaney wasn't a psychotic. Not at all."
"How do you figure?"
"A man wouldn't be that driven into the occult arts by a mere hobby...or even an arcane fascination in it. He'd want to do something with what he has learned. Something he could do to hurt those who hurt him."
"Revenge?"
Salina shrugged as she opened the driver's side door. "It's a dish best served cold", she said in a matter-of-fact tone.. "And one of the oldest criminal motives in human history."
Orla only nodded. She understood a little of what Salina had told her.
But what was she really trying to tell me?
Chapter 11: High Fidelity
"Looks like your buddy's about four sheets to the wind", Lindsay said, nodding towards Tim. Hide did not want to look, but could not help himself. Turning his head slightly to peer over his left shoulder, he saw Tim leading a chorus line of barfly's to the tune of the Sly and the Family Stone's "Thank You For Letting Me Be Myself Again".
"Hey, Tanaka!" Tim yelled, waving a bottle of beer wildly in the air. "Come over here and get in on this!"
"Uh...no thanks, Bondo", Hide said.
"Come on! Free your mind!"
"I oughta kick your behind."
Behind the counter, Lindsay laughed. "You know, my pops used to say that if you didn't loosen up sometimes, you'd end up strokin' out at thirty-seven."
"Nice mantra to live by", Hide retorted as he took a sip from his glass.
"It works sometimes."
"Right." Hide sighed as he looked away from her. He suddenly felt the urge to go home. "How much do I owe you?"
"On the house kiddo."
"Thanks." As he got up from his seat he suddenly leaned into her direction. "Don't think I haven't forgotten about our little date."
"And here I was praying that you did."
Lindsay grinned thinking, Finally, some sense of humanity.
At that moment, Larry Chaney walked inside.
xxx
For the first time in his life, he felt unclean.
Chaney could see that after everything mankind had sacrificied in the millions of years of evolutionary development, society had amounted to nothing more than a degenerate race of ill repute.
This was the life that he had willfully abandoned and felt no regret for doing so.
He bristled as he moved among those he had once considered his peers, neither looking at them and they at him. To them, he was just another after-hours stranger wanting a drink.
But Chaney wanted none of that. He'd known what reckless imbibing had done to these people; Jaxor had sworn to mortally silence those who had introduced that same poison to the Breed.
He felt his attention diverted towards a alluring woman in a sleek black dress. As she was talking to another man, smaller than himself, but well-built and wearing dark shades.
He had earlier spurned the advances of a whore. Now another was arousing him. Not just his sadistic tendencies, but his more carnal ones as well. His perverted gaze was fixated on her enticingly.
She had to be his.
He walked over towards the couple, cooly; like a predator.
xxx
"Whoa!", Tim yelled over the raucus crowd. "Damn, you look like hell, son. Rough night?" Tim asked. He'd been in the middle of telling a story to Lola. He was sobering up now, but was still in the midst of having a good time when this big stranger came towards he and Lola. He'd seen him walk in, but paid little mind.
Chaney didn't answer; he looked from Tim to Lola, then back to Tim. He then grinned. Tim noticed how Chaney's teeth were protruding slightly from his gums.
He grabbed Lola by her arm, forcing her off her seat.
"Let go of me, you creep!" Lola yelled. He was squeezing her arm, cutting off the circulation.
"Hey! That ain't how you treat a lady. Tim shouted getting out of his seat. But Chaney shoved his face, pushing Tim back down and continued lusting for Lola.
"Son of a bitch…". If Tim wasn't sober then, he was Stone-cold sober now. He grabbed an empty Heineken bottle from a nearby table and shattered the glass upon Chaney's head into a dozen shards.
"You wanna' pussyfoot around like a boy? Then, I'll whoop your ass like a man."
Silence surrounded the bar as he leered at Tim.
Tim didn't flinch and kept his stance.
Chaney let go of Lola, dropping her to the ground, and swung a fist full of knuckles at Tim.
He blocked with his left arm.
Tim slammed a haymaker into the stranger's face, breaking his nose and staggering him to the floor.
Chaney was caught of guard and angry
No one had dared to do that to him before.
Wiping away the blood from his nose, he stared visciously at Tim before striking again. He decked the ornery redneck with an uppercut, knocking him clear to the floor surrounded by onlooking bar patrons. Chaney then pressed the heel of his boot into Tim's throat, closing the air out of his windpipe.
Lola ran away as Kristopher's erupted into chaos.
Across the room, Hide watched as the scene played out, at first amused then shocked. He looked at Lindsay, who had now stopped working the bar.
Behind her, he saw a pool cue.
"Mind if I use that", he said pointing towards it.
Lindsay nodded and handed it to him.
"Thanks."
Tim gasped for air as he tried to push Chaney's boot from his throat. He could feel it being compressed underneath the big man's weight.
"Head's up!" Tim heard someone shout. Then came a blur of wood and motion as the boot left his throat. Tim took big gulps of air as he looked at Hide holding a broken cue in his hands. The man fell back over a booth.
"You couldn't have done something sooner?" he said rubbing his neck.
Hide made a face. "Didn't you hear me say head's up?"
"I had him on the ropes, huh?" Tim smiled.
"Yeah, I could see that."
Chaney got up slowly, his fists quivering with anger.
These two...they were making him into...a joke...
A couple of Kristopher's bouncers did their job and pounced on Chaney before he could finish what he started, one of whom immediately locked a set of cuffs around his wrists. Chaney saw that the other two held TaZer's in their hands.
"Good work, guys", Tim said, but as he was about to shake one of the guards hands, he was suddenly spun around.
"You're under arrest!" the guard shouted.
"What?!?!"
"But", Lindsay said walking towards them. "It's this guy who caused all the trouble. These two were just trying to help one of my customers!"
"And...you're just a guard", Hide said. "You can't just arrest us!" The guard flashed his badge.
Philadelphia Sheriff's Department.
Lindsay slapped her forehead.
"What for?" Tim demanded.
"Disturbing the peace", the officer said plainly. He nodded towards another undercover officer in Hide's direction.
"Disturbing the peace?", Tim hollered. "This son of a bitch just tried to violate my date! What's the fuckin' charge for nearly having my larynx crushed? Jaywalking?"
"Now wait a minute here!" Hide said backing away. "We didn't do anything! It was the other guy's fau–!"
The other officer cut him off and replied, "Inciting a riot, public drunkenness, disturbing the peace. Three counts, three strikes". He grabbed Hide's wrist and placed his hands behind his back.
"You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law."
Tim remained calm throughout. "I think I'm going to waive that right."
"Tell it to the cheif", the officer said as he marched Tim out the door. Hide followed behind, a shocked Lindsay looking at him.
"Lind, call Rob Statler at (215) 555-6489! Tell him what happened and tell him to haul ass, TMA!"
"TMA?"
"Like twenty minutes ago!"
"Come on, move it!", said a cop.
It took five deputies to subdue the still thrashing Chaney as they marched he, Tim, and Hide towards the squad cars. The two Ghostbusters were placed in one car while Chaney was strapped into another.
Inside, Tim looked over at Hide. He raised his handcuffs as they rattled.
"This is the cleanest and nicest police car I've ever been in my life. This thing is nicer than my apartment."
Hide lowered his head and groaned as he and his partner were carted off to 100 South Broad St…
Philadelphia County Jail.
TO BE CONTINUED...