I just wanted to say thank you to LadyAkuma20, TS-19, and WayWard Wonderer! I know I can always count on LadyAkuma20 for awesome thoughts! TS-19, I can say no M rating for this story but I am considering a sequel that may fit that category! ;) And thanks for the support, WayWard! I made some edits to Chapter III of this story. I understand things may have been a little slow – I promise the pace is picking up, especially with this chapter!

Enjoy!

Chapter VI

The Ghost

"Aw, come on!" Peter yelled at the TV. "Everyone knows the price of peanut butter is $2.19 a jar these days!"

Bob Barker agreed and the contestant slunk away, defeated. Peter sighed and picked up the remote, clicking rapidly through the channels as the commercials began to play. "You know, Oscar," he said to the baby sleeping next to him, "I hope Dana finds you a good school. It's going to be important for you to know how much things cost when you take a girl out to dinner."

With a sigh, he put down the remote and hopped over to the kitchen, opening the fridge, open to the idea of a more adult beverage even though it wasn't even noon. To his chagrin, the six-pack he thought he'd put in there yesterday was gone. "Oscar?" he peeked over the top of the fridge. "Did you drink my beer?"

The baby didn't reply.

Peter looked back in the fridge. "We need to go shopping. And figure out where the beer went." He finally pulled out the milk and poured a glass before prowling around the kitchen, opening all the cupboards in a desperate search for the plate of cookies he knew Dana had baked that week. "Aw, don't tell me those are gone too!"

**o0o**

Erica adjusted her handbag on her shoulder, pulling her ride ticket out of her pocket. She could feel the pressure of the world on her back and was more than ready to get up into the air, just get some breathing space. I need to come down from there as a new woman. She'd apologized to Peter and Ray and it seemed like they had forgiven her. She hadn't completely alienated Ray – in fact he'd almost looked relieved that she might come by the shop once it reopened. And maybe I could now...even if I still can't give him my number.

Yet somehow, even that idea didn't seem quite so intimidating anymore.

"You okay with some company?"

Erica jumped, turning around to see Ray standing behind her, hands shoved in his pockets, a slightly guilty smile on his face. A little smile pulled at her lips as well. "I thought you were checking out the magician's tent!" What's it been, ten minutes?

"We tried." Ray shrugged back towards the cluster of booths. Dana and Egon were standing by the sand art, deep in conversation with the carny that was running it. "He wasn't in and everything was sealed up."

Whoops. Guess everything wasn't open yet. "Um, sure. Groovy. Come on. Oh but...you need a ride ticket."

Ray held a ticket up and Erica grinned. The carny waved them through and they settled in the wheelcar. The box only seated two, saving them the awkwardness of looking at another pair across the way, and not obstructing the view of the city. The safety bar settled across their laps and the little doors shut at their feet, enclosing them in the space. Their legs and arms brushed each other, causing little goosebumps to sprout along Erica's skin. Stay calm. She threw Ray a smile as the Ferris Wheel began to move.

**o0o**

"Oh, for sure, we want to serve kids of all ages," the carny said to Dana. "We've got people watching them to make sure they don't eat the sand or start a fight with it. We have a sandbox over there if they want to actually play." She pointed at the little playground a few yards away. The sun flashed on her nametag, distracting Dana from the playground. 'Sunny', the nametag read. It was a little too ironic.

Dana looked over at the sandbox thoughtfully. "And the sand is colored by..."

"Food coloring." Sunny grinned. "The Dukes make sure this place is 100% safe."

"Are the Dukes involved in much of the goings-on here?" Egon asked.

Sunny laughed. "We come to them with suggestions and they take 'em or leave 'em. Sometimes one of 'em will walk around here to make sure everyone's happy. They're good bosses."

"So they are available if a customer has questions or concerns?" Egon continued. Dana glanced at him, wondering where he was going with this.

Sunny looked a little worried. "Is there something wrong?"

"No, no." Egon shook his head. "Not at this time."

Sunny relaxed, but Egon threw Dana a look she didn't expect. It read: Help me?

All right. "If we did want to speak to them, how would we do so?" she pressed. "I don't mean to go over your head..."

"If you have any ideas for how the carnival can be improved or any concerns about safety, you can speak to one of us," Sunny deflected. "But if you don't feel comfortable, you can ask for R or M Duke at the main entrance. One of them will be happy to come speak to you." She frowned a little in concern. "Are you sure I can't help you?"

"No," Dana chuckled. Think fast. "No, it's just...as a mother I want to know all the options before bringing my child to such a distracting place."

"I understand," Sunny smiled.

"What does R or M stand for?" Egon spoke up again.

"I'm honestly not sure. I'm not really one to ask for the bosses' first names, and that was all they told us. I imagine they're not big on giving out first names either, but I don't know them all that well yet. They just took this place over a few months ago."

Egon looked uncertain but Dana disagreed. That's not suspicious. It could take a bit for the name to trickle through the entire company. She hadn't even known Janosz Poha's first name until at least a month of working at the Manhattan Museum of Art, and he'd only told her, she suspected, as a way to establish a connection with her. She reached over and put a gentle hand on Egon's arm. "Thank you," she said to Sunny. "You've really made me worry less."

"Glad I could help!"

Dana tugged on Egon's arm. "Come on, let's go look at the playground."

Egon followed, and Dana leaned over after a few steps. "What was that all about?"

"There is an unusually high amount of residual PKE energy in this place." Egon kept his voice low, trying to affect a casual tone. "I suspect there is at least one ghost here, and if there is we will need to speak to the Dukes about clearing this place to get rid of it."

"So you want to talk to them now?"

"No." Egon looked around. "No, I don't know enough yet. I'll speak to Ray about it later. However..." He turned back around and hurried back to Sunny. Dana hastily followed.

"You said the Dukes took over this place a few months ago?" Egon questioned.

Sunny didn't look surprised at their return. She smiled. "Yeah. Huge relief for us, too. The impresario of this place died suddenly and we've been changing hands for years. We were about to go under and the Dukes just showed up out of thin air and bought us. Saved a lot of livelihoods."

"How did the impresario die?"

Sunny shrugged. "It was before my time. Something about a spooked horse. That's why we don't have any animal attractions anymore."

Dana's heart slammed in her chest. Spooked horse?

"Did anything else change when the Dukes arrived?" Egon continued.

"Well, the name. We were King City Attractions back then. Operated mostly in the Corn Belt. Also we started including more games, this playground, the magician...this whole section back here is new." Sunny tilted her head, looking Egon over carefully. "Are you a reporter or something?"

"He's just very curious," Dana broke in. She grabbed Egon's arm again. "Come on, let's let the woman do her job." Please, her eyes begged.

Egon let her lead him away.

**o0o**

"Sure you don't want one?" Peter waved the cookie over Oscar's head, but the baby slept on. "Suit yourself." He popped the treat in his mouth and chewed, focusing once again on the television. Match Game was just starting and Peter pulled faces at the celebrities being announced on screen before shouting out his own takes on the questions. "Common sense, man, it's common sense! If a cannibal says the restaurant is great, he ate the chef, not the waitress!"

The celebrities mostly agreed with him, the contestant did not. Peter sighed and looked back at Oscar. "Well that's the third person today to not take my advice. Maybe I'll just sleep for the rest of the day like you."

Oscar rolled over and snored very quietly, a tiny sound that almost set Peter to giggles. Oh wait until Dana hears this one! He reached over to adjust the blanket, and something thumped in the bedroom.

**o0o**

"Oh, my God," Erica breathed.

The Ferris Wheel had stopped near the top of its run to let others on and off, and she twisted in her seat, trying to take in the entire view at once. The sounds of the carnival below faded into hissing wind and she could actually get tastes of the salt air from the nearby Atlantic Ocean. Below her, the carnival was a patchwork of neon colors, connected by lines of ants on the vivid green ground. The dark blue water of the East River rolled slowly in the wind, and the Brooklyn and Manhattan Bridges stood sharply outlined against the sky. Across the river, the silvery skyline of Lower Manhattan rose tall and proud. Squinting, Erica tried to see the Statue of Liberty on her perch on Liberty Island, but she just wasn't high enough. Guess I'll have to make a stop by the Empire State Building before too long.

"It is really nice to get out of the city once in a while," Ray agreed. "It gives you a little more perspective."

"The city is so close," Erica confessed. "I still feel claustrophobic sometimes."

Ray nodded. "Yeah, I can see that. I've mostly thought of the city as a wool blanket. Itchy and irritating sometimes, but it's warm and toasty when the weather hits. I was born on Long Island, over..." he twisted and pointed "...there. And I grew up in Islip, which is completely invisible from here but really it's... " he waved his hand in a general direction, "over there, someplace. I took vacations out of New York but...I've been here all my life, and I wouldn't want to be anywhere else."

Erica smiled. "I think I can understand that. I wanted out of Eugene when I was young. I love it there. Lots of childhood memories. But I wanted to be right in the thick of everything. I wanted to be in Houston when Neil Armstrong landed on the moon. I wanted to be in Cape Canaveral when the Hubble went up. I wanted to be in Germany when the Berlin Wall came down. But...I don't really have that 'go get 'em' attitude journalists need, you know? So I went after the next best thing. If I can't be there to see history, I can at least preserve the mementos from it."

Ray looked thoughtful. "I never really thought about archival work that way."

Erica snorted. "Few do. But in all honesty, I never would have thought of trapping ghosts as a lucrative career either."

Ray burst into laughter. "It's really not! But it does make studying them a lot easier!"

Erica saw the opportunity and her mouth dried out in sudden nervousness. She swallowed several times, reached over and grabbed her handbag, popping it open. "While we're on the subject of studying ghosts..." She withdrew Tobin's Spirit Guide and held it out to him. "You mentioned your copy was destroyed."

Ray's mouth fell open and his eyes widened. A second later a wild smile of delight began to dawn on his face. "Where did you get this?!" He took the book from her hands, staring down at it.

"I have this great-aunt back in Eugene," Erica shrugged. "Muriel. She's the one who has the house that smells like your bookshop. I...asked for her help. She has a few friends who run bookshops like yours on the West Coast. And that book...was just sitting on some shelf somewhere in the back of someone's shop. Books are meant to be read and needed and used. And since you're a Ghostbuster, you kinda need that book..." You've made your point.

Ray softened, the smile returning. "Well, thank you. I mean really, thank you."

"You're welcome." Desperate to keep her rapidly waning confidence up, Erica smiled and looked back out over the vista.

**o0o**

"Hello?" Peter called. "Someone there?"

Oscar fussed, finally awakening, and Peter instantly picked him up, bobbing him gently, shushing him as quietly as possible. His heart rate picked up and he turned the volume down on the television, putting all of his energy into his ears.

The apartment grew quiet and still. Peter's eyes flicked to the phone hanging on the wall in the kitchen, but he didn't make a move for it yet.

Something thumped again. Peter tensed and Oscar yelped. Peter spun and put Oscar down on the couch whispering: "Stay here. Remember when the scary man had you on the table in the big museum and I took you away and told you to stay put? Same thing. Stay here."

Oscar stared at him, eyes wide but full of comprehension. Smart as his mom, no question. Peter turned away and ran into the bedroom, hands in fists at his side.

He saw nothing out of the ordinary on first look. On the second, his blood ran cold.

There was a picture on the bed. Peter knew there hadn't been anything on the bed earlier; he'd walked by it to go to the bathroom an hour or so ago. But now...he walked over and looked down at it.

His parents smiled up at him from the little wooden frame.

Peter had enough time to feel the first stab of terror before Oscar began screaming.

**o0o**

Dana and Egon had met up with Winston, who was making the rounds of the carnival games. He had won a stuffed giraffe already, and was working on a big stuffed shark. "My niece loves sharks," he'd explained almost sheepishly. "Do you think Oscar would like the giraffe?"

"I'll give it a try," Dana had taken it off of his hands before watching him continue. He'd won the shark, and now the three of them were sampling the funnel cakes and lemonade. Dana was cringing a little from the sugar; Peter often made fun of her for eating junk food but in truth, she wasn't big on deep fried anything. She was silently thankful Winston had offered to share instead of getting her own. To her extreme surprise, Egon had already downed almost three-quarters of his own cake. He must have the metabolism of a rat.

Of course, she knew she was probably having a tough time eating because of the awful feelings that had started racing through her. As soon as Sunny had revealed that the former impresario of the carnival had died by spooked horse, a sensation of dread that Dana had long since come to listen to had settled in the pit of her stomach. The name of the carnival, King City Attractions, didn't help. She couldn't remember the name of the carnival Peter had worked in, but she knew it had been in Missouri, Iowa, and Illinois – all parts of the Corn Belt of America. No wonder Peter didn't want to come, she thought. If this is the one he worked for...he didn't want any of us to come here because his parents died here.

It was completely possible that she was being ridiculous and the coincidences were just that. But her stomach was rolling over and it wasn't because of the funnel cake. Maybe we should leave.

**o0o**

Peter sprinted back into the living room, his eyes going straight to the screaming child on the couch. Oscar was crying, his hands up as though warding something off, but there didn't seem to be anything around him. Peter moved for him, ready to pick him up and leave the apartment, and then the ghost appeared between them.

Peter stared. The translucent apparition didn't seem to be doing anything to hurt the child. Rather, the soulless eyes were locked on him, and the hate in them was palpable.

Peter's throat was dry from terror, but he still licked his lips and spoke. "I'm going to need to see your babysitting credentials."

The ghost floated in silence. Peter had heard enough of Ray and Egon's categorizations to piece together what he was looking at. Full-torso apparition. Class IV. The figure had a face and clothes and Peter wasn't too sure but there might have been a ring on one of its fingers. He didn't know too much about history to recognize the outfit but it was definitely a uniform with fringed shoulderpads, cuffs, two rows of buttons, and a belt. The coat was long and almost blended into the pants, which faded away into nothing. The ghost himself was grey, which removed color from the equation, but Peter was pretty sure he'd seen the uniform before. Somewhere.

Oscar's sobbing was quieting down as he began to notice the scary ghost wasn't coming after him. Peter was desperately trying to remember where he'd hidden the trap and wondering how he was going to get to it without ticking the ghost off.

"You killed me."

Gozer's voice had been scratchy and Vigo's voice had been resonant. But this voice sounded young, Southern, and like it had a bad case of laryngitis. The power behind the words was stronger than the words themselves, and Peter felt the impact in his chest and ears. He took a step back, his equilibrium shaken, and had to swallow. "I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about," he said, trying to keep his voice light. "That thing in college was an accident and the guy woke up the next morning. He couldn't remember his name for a few hours but it was no big deal." His eyes slid to the bedroom. I think the trap's in the closet.

The ghost suddenly appeared between him and the door to the bedroom. It was much closer now, and Peter could smell something old and dry and electric coming off of it. His nose wrinkled and he backed quickly up towards the couch, planting himself squarely between the ghost and Oscar. Okay. That plan's out the window. Next?

"You killed me, you little coot," the ghost repeated. "The war was over, but that weren't worth a goober to ya, was it?"

Peter blinked. What is he saying?

The ghost began to float towards him and Peter backed up farther. His calves hit the couch. This is bad. "Hey now, if you want to sit and talk about your feelings, I'll just put the baby down for a nap and we can have it out..."

"You killed me!" the ghost said a third time, still coming towards him. "I owe you. I owe your family and I ain't gonna stop 'til I've got you all done to a turn."

Oh, sh... Peter spun to grab Oscar and dive out of the way, but instead he felt something electric and cold hit his back. Oscar slipped from his hands and Peter fell, bouncing off of the couch and hitting the floor.

Everything went black.

For a few agonizing moments, he floated in nothingness. The concept that he was in terrible danger floated with him, but he could not act on it. His body seemed to be a separate entity from him, as though he was looking at it from outside himself. And yet he could feel something inside him, something he didn't want. It was digging, like a squirrel. He tried to expel it, to flex a muscle in his brain that would shove it out, but it did no good.

Then, he opened his eyes.

Dana's apartment was gone. Instead there was the smell of funnel cake, the brightness of the tents, and the neighing of horses.

"I owe your family," the ghost said, somewhere in his mind.

Peter opened his mouth and started to scream.

**o0o**

Winston was doing his darndest to convince Egon to try the climbing wall, and the older scientist was having none of it. Dana had a feeling Winston would have better luck with Ray once he got back from the Ferris Wheel with Erica. She gave herself a silent pat on the back. It had been her idea to send Ray after Erica when the woman had gone off alone. She wasn't much of a matchmaker, but there were times when she had wished someone had given her a little push here or there. Hopefully, they're a little clearer on where they stand with each other now. She supposed she'd know when they came back.

It happened all at once. The gnawing fear in the pit of her stomach exploded through her body in a wave of panic. A second wave followed, this one of dizziness and nausea. Her knees gave out, and she sank to the ground. She began to gasp, feeling as though something was clenching her throat, and a ringing sensation filled her ears. She could see Egon and Winston's shoes running to her, could see their mouths moving as they spoke. Egon's eyes were wide and concerned, even bordering on frightened. She could see the words his lips were forming. "Dana? Are you all right? What's wrong? What's happening, Dana?"

She didn't know. And yet, she did. "Oscar," she gasped. "Peter."

**o0o**

The safety bar of the Ferris Wheel lifted, and Erica stood up, awkwardly maneuvering out of the wheelcar. Ray put a hand out to help her step smoothly to the ground and she, with a deep breath, intentionally left her hand loosely holding his. Once the two of them had moved away from the crowded line, Ray let go. Erica pulled her own hand back, trying to suppress the disappointment rushing through her. Of course, in the movies, the couple always kissed on the Ferris Wheel, and when Ray had shown up, well...well she'd dreamed a little, nothing wrong with that. But of course, they weren't that kind of couple. Yet.

Oh, what hope that little word had.

"Ray! Erica!"

The cry broke her out of her thoughts and she looked up to see Winston, Egon, and Dana running towards them. Erica felt her stomach turn cold. Dana looked like...well, like she'd seen a ghost. Her aristocratic features were wrinkled in fear and her eyes shot off sparks of panic.

"We're leaving," Winston said.

"We have to get home," Dana said, her voice thin and terrified. "Something's wrong."

**o0o**

Frank, the super, banged on the door to Dana's apartment. The only responses were the sounds of a crying baby and a screaming man.

**o0o**

A crowd was gathering in front of the apartment building on East 77th St. The traffic on the street crawled along behind them. A large truck carrying an old gypsy wagon with the words "FORTUNE TELLER" on its sides chugged slowly along, the driver pausing to look at the large group of people. A loud honking startled him and he slammed on the brakes as the Ectomobile howled to a stop right in front of him. "Holy shit, the Ghostbusters!" he murmured, watching as the famous men leaped out of the car. Funny, he'd thought there were four of them, all men, no women. But there they went into the building and here came the cops in his rear view mirror.

"Damn." The driver turned back to guiding his truck carefully down the jammed street, figuring he'd hear about the bust on the news later.

**o0o**

Dana prided herself on being composed and strong in public when things went awry. Really, she prided herself on being composed in general. But standing in front of the elevator of her apartment building, waiting for the doors to open, the terror shrieking through her veins was more than she had ever known in her life. Though her makeup remained in place thanks to waterproof mascara, silent tears streaked her cheeks. Winston stood near her, a hand resting softly on her shoulder. Egon already had the PKE meter out. "There definitely something here," he was saying. "If it's in Dana's apartment, we'll need to go straight to the bedroom. Peter said he keeps a trap there."

The elevator arrived and they piled in, the doors closing just as the police reached them. The ride up was one of the longest of Dana's life, but when the doors opened she knew they had made the right decision. She could hear Peter's screams and shoved her way past Egon and Ray. Ignoring the shouts of: "Dana, wait!" and "Watch out!" she ran full tilt down the hallway. She managed to get the key in the door and wrenched it open, staggering into the apartment.

Oscar was sitting on the floor crying his lungs out and shaking Peter's arm as though trying to wake him up. Peter was flat on his back like an effigy, the veins and cords on his neck sticking out as he screamed with the full power of his lungs. Dana almost vomited from the horror of the situation, the intensity of it increasing as she realized that Peter wasn't just screaming, but crying, tears pouring out of his open eyes, sobs shaking his entire body. The sounds coming from him were also breaking in and out and she realized he'd been screaming long enough to be going hoarse. Peter, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I wasn't here. I'm sorry!

"The PKE readings are off the scale!" Egon yelled.

"Where's the ghost?" Winston shouted.

"I don't know!" Egon looked over and his face paled. "Peter? Peter?" His voice turned pleading. "Peter, can you hear me? Peter?" His voice cracked, a frantic note cutting into it. Dana had never heard Egon panicking and she never wanted to hear it again. She looked over at Ray and saw him frozen in place, staring in horror at Peter. Winston dove for the bedroom, hunting down the trap.

And then, suddenly, Peter stopped screaming. His body convulsed.

"Peter?" Egon gasped, moving to grab him. Ray dove in, helping him roll the seizing man to the side. Saliva foamed around the corners of Peter's mouth, dripping to the floor, and then something grey and formless shot out of his body. A strange, keening howl filled the room, and the shadow shot through the window, exploding it outward, raining glass down on the crowd below.

Silence.