Ecto-1 cruised down the New Jersey Turnpike. Inside, Egon sat in the front passenger seat, quietly typing on his laptop. Winston was driving the converted emergency vehicle. John sat quietly in the back seat. A small black wire connected the computer to the ambulance's consoled dashboard. Egon was planning out the route to Vineland.
"According to my computer's calculations, the quickest way to our destination is to continue down this turnpike until we get near Philadelphia, then to exit onto highway fifty-five southeast. Exit thirty-two off that highway should lead us right there. The actual facility we want is a few miles out of the extreme northeast end of town, almost to the Cumberland county line," stated Egon.
"You know, this trip will probably take us two hours, even with the light traffic this time of night," reminded Winston as he flipped on Ecto's sirens.
"I know, but there is no quicker way down," Egon sighed.
"You sure," questioned Winston.
"I'm sure," snapped Egon. His brain focused on the task at hand, but his mind was light years away thinking about Janine. What if she was being tortured? What if he never saw her again? No. That wouldn't happen. He knew that Ray and Peter would do their utmost to bring her back. But what if they failed? Never before had the Ghostbusters faced a situation quite like this one, and the mysterious nature of the Cenobite psychokinetic energy worried him. There was so much to do and here he was, stuck in a two-hour car ride down to a little Podunk town and a facility that he wasn't sure even still contained the person they needed to find. The physicist's mind jumped back to Janine. He had in the past taken for granted that she would continue to pursue his affection; he had even gotten used to the idea. He had planned several times to tell her how he felt, but always got cold feet at the last moment and would further put it off –he was unused to such raw emotional feeling being a man of reason. Emotions were things he had learned to despise and avoid. Somehow he thought admitting his feelings to her would make him appear weak, because another human being had power over him. He was sure that if they were to meet again, he would take her aside privately and tell her just how he felt about her. At least he hoped he would.
"Hey man, I know you're worried about your girl," said Winston, as he shot the bespectacled man a sympathetic gaze. "We'll get Janine back."
Egon was a little bit surprised at Winston's comment. He was probably the man of the group that Egon knew the least about. And lately Winston had surprised him. Until a few weeks ago, he never knew that his teammate was a former military captain, that he could repair a car, and that he was good enough at baseball to play professionally. Could he read minds as well?
"What?" asked John, from Ecto-1's spacious back seat.
"Well, Janine had a thing for Egon as long as I can remember. And we all knew that he felt something for her, but was too shy to admit anything, so we just let him be."
"Shy' is not the appropriate term," fumed Egon Spengler.
"And when our bookkeeper Louis Tully had announced that he and Janine were dating, Egon seemed to disappear for a full week. Brother just locked himself in his lab all day, working with his tools but not really making anything. Both Pete and Ray agreed that he was taking it hard."
Dr. Spengler was now a beet red color, as he buried his face deeper into his laptop.
"I see. If there's anything that my, um, encounters have taught me, it's to never let a sun set on your issues," advised John. "I know that sounds contrite but it's done wonders for me."
"What do you do for a living, anyway?" asked Winston.
"I'm a screenwriter," replied John. "I'd had some unfinished scripts lying around my apartment. Then I had my major encounter with Pinhead and the Cenobites. It nearly killed me. When I finished that ordeal, I had found myself relieved of my job as an architect. Something about my company not liking it that I missed so much work."
"And so much is…"
"When you travel the ages, you lose track of time. I had to take their word that I had been gone one week without contact. Anyway, I had to accept it. What was I going to tell them, that I had been chasing Cenobite demons across time? I doubt you'd have even believed me."
"Yeah, probably not. And we deal with weird shit all the time," said Winston.
"So I got back to my apartment and that night I wrote a script about what had happened to me. Six hours later, I had a decent movie script. I called it "Hellbound: Merchant's Story." I knew an old friend from college who had become an agent. I contacted him with my script and we sold it to a studio. It ended up the movie "Hellish Bloodline" and I've been working ever since. I even finished and sold those other old scripts. I'd say tell her your feelings if you see her again, because honestly right now that's a big 'if'."
Egon cleared his throat. "Tell me a little more about the Cenobites and their habits. I want to log it and submit it to Spates for publishing."
John Merchant began jabbering away rather quickly. A lesser typist would have fallen behind, but Egon was tapping keys so fast that Winston from the corner of his eye swore he saw smoke rising from the laptop keyboard.
A short time later, Winston quickly saw something out the car window that alarmed him, and pointed to it. "Hey guys, look over in that suburb over there." The normally tidy houses were all unkempt, there was a military convoy blocking a street, and Egon and John swore they saw humanoid forms attacking some of the soldiers. Everyone inside Ecto-1 all exchanged glances of worry.
"I think we're going the right way," commented Egon.
The guys saw many similar situations from the vehicle windows. The elevated freeway revealed many burning buildings, orange glow lighting up the deep violet sky. There was many an overturned vehicle, even police cars and military vehicles. There were quick glimpses of people running about, pursued by dark shapes. No one in the vehicle had to guess what those shapes were. Pinhead's path ran parallel to the New Jersey Turnpike, and it was headed in the same direction they were.
…
Ecto-1 finally reached the highway-fifty-five interchange after a couple hours and they soon reached the city limits of the town of Vineland, New Jersey. Traveling through the tiny burg, the stillness alarmed the two Ghostbusters and the Cenobite expert. Each house was nestled cozily next to the others, manicured lawns adding to the Norman Rockwell-esque scenery; ordinary automobiles parked along the curbs here and there; downtown storefronts tidy save for the random litter and dust along the pale gray rivers of concrete, now peaceful and dark except for the dull golden illumination of the periodic streetlight. Pinhead had not been here yet, but was undoubtedly on his way. Winston stepped on the gas pedal, and Ecto-1 raced through the town's streets toward Vineland home for girls. The path carried them up a road that winded through rolling hills to a small two-story facility that looked like a former school. Vineland's night management would need a really good reason to transfer a patient this early in the morning. Ecto-1 pulled up near the rear entrance. All three men got out. Egon tossed Winston and John orderlies' uniforms.
"Here, put these on," whispered Egon, as he removed his jumpsuit to reveal slacks, a blue collared shirt and brown tweed tie, over which he slipped on a white lab coat. The paranormalist looked like a senior psychologist, and perfect in his disguise with nary the smallest of hairs out of place.
"Um, I thought we had this all legally arranged," whispered John to Egon.
He dug around in the maze of wires and electronic objects and pulled out a briefcase from among the slime blowers, ghost traps, and other technical equipment in the rear of the ambulance. "It is… almost."
Winston and John exchanged apprehensive glances. The three men walked up to the admitting entrance of the facility from the ambulance driveway. The building looked like an old school building, the red brick façade made visible by yet more golden illumination from the driveway streetlights. The two-story building stood like a menacing behemoth against the backdrop of purple haze. Yet, even in this odd darkness one couldn't help but feel as though visiting an old friend in a cozy cottage when looking at the building. The small tidy bushes around the building's perimeter added to its stoic beauty. Egon pulled out a PKE Meter from his pocket and scanned the area just to make sure all was well. The meter registered nothing out of the ordinary and he put it away. He opened the door and walked up to the night watchman with the two faux-orderlies in tow.
"Hello, I'm Dr. Spengler. I am a clinical and behavioral psychologist from New York. There was supposed to be a patient released into my care named Kirsty Cotton. She was to have been transferred to a facility near Manhattan earlier today. I apologize for my tardiness, but we had engine trouble and the repair time delayed us greatly."
The night watchman peered out the window. The blurred, cloudy glass revealed a vague shape of an ambulance and blue emergency flashers. A clearer glass would have revealed the mass of gadgetry on the vehicle's roof and its "no-ghost" logos. Egon opened his briefcase and pulled out the transfer papers. Winston silently stood to the left of his brave colleague. I really hope you know what you're doing. We're not very convincing. The plump, middle-aged watchman looked over the trio.
"Okay, just let me call our resident nurse, Martha Crabbe, and verify the transfer. In the mean time, please come inside and help yourself to some coffee in the staff lounge," replied the watchman.
At least we're in. We can find her on our own if necessary. This place isn't all that big, and I'll bet Egon's a wizard at cracking security codes. Winston glanced over at the fenced wing of the facility that led to the patient sleeping rooms. Most of the building's lights were off at this time of night, making the darkness of the expansive hallways seem quite creepy. He was doing his best to remember his military days and impersonate a stationed guard. John was watching him and trying to mimic his actions. With such rigid postures both men looked like they had spent the day sitting on porcupines.
"Hello? Dr. Spengler?" came a gruff yet gentle aged feminine voice from the hallway. Egon glanced in the direction of the voice. "I'm Martha Crabbe, head nurse here at Vineland." She extended her right hand in professional courtesy and Egon accepted it.
"Now, are you sure that Miss Cotton is the patient you're looking for? I was not notified of any sort of transfer. Something upset her earlier this evening and I sent her to bed. It's not really in her best interest to wake her. May I see the transfer order?"
Egon handed her the phony transfer order, and hoped that it was authentic enough to convince her despite the fact that there was no way to prevent such an error of protocol. She examined it carefully and escorted them in past the fiberglass gates to the long corridor leading to the sleeping rooms.
"Apparently Dr. Honeycutt forgot to tell you about the transfer," stated Dr. Spengler, referring to the facility's administrator. He had done his homework on the facility staff.
"Yes. He's done that once before. He had left on vacation and forgot to tell the staff about a patient that was on her way. Thankfully, we had an empty room and could admit her."
What good fortune, thought Egon. "You are more than welcome to call and confirm it with our Dr. Elias in my facility up in Manhattan tomorrow morning. His office number is on the document."
Nurse Crabbe raised an eyebrow at the name. "I thought he retired last year…"
"Yes, well… He works now in a… mere advisory role," stammered Egon.
They reached Kirsty's sparse room. The glow of purple illuminated the dwelling through the curtains of the large window, giving the otherwise white furnishings a soft lavender glow. Kirsty was sleeping soundly but every couple of seconds she would mumble something about chains and demons. Nurse Crabbe gently woke her. "Kirsty, this is Dr. Spengler. You remember him, don't you girl? He's here to take you up to Manhattan for a little while."
"Dr. Spengler?" Asked Kirsty, groggily awakening.
The two faux-orderlies, the nurse, and the masquerading psychologist escorted the young woman out toward the restricted area exit. Two resident security officers were waiting there for them. Nurse Crabbe faced the two orderlies and the scientist.
"I thought the Spengler name sounded familiar. Then I remembered where I'd heard it. Dr. Elias is retired. Has been for three years. I used to read his publications regularly. And on this transfer order. We haven't used the falcon seal in a long time. You guys aren't with the Tri-State psychological association are you? Sorry Dr. Spengler, you and your ghost hunting buddies are not getting out this door with that young woman. Why should I not have these officers detain you? Why don't you tell me what's going on?"
Egon stared at the stern nurse like a deer in headlights. Their cover was blown. While compiling the forged papers back at the firehouse, he had not remembered to verify something as obvious as a logo. He looked at Winston, who shot him a "we tried" glance. He looked again at Nurse Crabbe and spoke. "Has Kirsty mentioned anything about a 'Pinhead' or about Cenobites?"
"Yes I did. I saw them in my mind earlier this evening!" replied Kirsty, eyes growing wide.
"We have spent the better part of an evening dispatching his creations. This girl is not crazy. We have to get her out of here right now. These Cenobites are on their way here as we speak," stated Egon curtly.
John spoke up. "And when he finds her here, he'll kill her, you, the other girls, you two security boys over there, and us if we're still here."
"Now just wait a minute. That's a pretty wild story. You guys may not be leaving here at all," started Nurse Crabbe.
Just then a scream echoed down the hallway from the admitting entrance. Within a few moments the night watchman came crawling into the lobby, leaving a wet shiny trail on the tile floor behind him. The skin had been peeled from his head and face. There were chains hooked into the shiny crimson muscle tissue. Directly behind him was the distinct form of a humanoid in fetish clothing with long thin shapes protruding from his head. Egon's PKE Meter chirped to life inside his trouser pocket. The figure entered the light and summoned more of those otherworldly chains. The chains' small hooks began punching holes in the fiberglass of the gate, attempting to tear the structure out of the wall. The two security officers backed away from the demons. Kirsty and Nurse Crabbe screamed while the Ghostbusters and John stared at Pinhead. Accompanying him was the "Chompers" Cenobite, the "Butterball" Cenobite, and an army of Cenobite creations. Right now the fiberglass gate was the only thing separating the two parties, and the only source of security for the human party. It would not be long before it was compromised. They had to quickly think of something.