Entering the secluded and dimly basement at an impressively quiet pace Peter spotted Ray hunched over a table with the latest data printed out on long, connected sheets of paper clutched between his fingers. The table, a large computer modem and monitor rested on the edge of the table with the massive printer on the other side. Ray sat in the middle of the table on a very old, very worn out stool. The dull glow of the green light from the ghost containment unit created dark and eerie shadows that seemed to loom over everything and everyone in the room.

Never one to pass up an opportunity to mess with someone, especially a good friend like Dr. Ray Stantz, Peter crept up slowly on Ray and grabbed firmly onto his shoulder. "Hey! What's that?"

"Geez!" Ray jumped in his seat, his knees banging into the underside of the table painfully. "Don't do that!"

"Sorry." Peter lied through his smug grin. "Couldn't resist. So what's this?" He asked as he sat on the edge of the table and pulled the long paper trail of data out of Ray's hands. There was a long wavy and jagged line strewn all up and down the paper as it stretched the entire width. "Looks like something Oscar drew."

"That's the energy read out taken from the building." Ray replied as he rubbed his hands over his newly bruised knees. "Notice anything unusual?"

"About the readings or the paper? Kind of hard to tell in this poor lighting."

"What you're holding is the readings from the PKE meter when Egon scanned the roof of the Mercado." Ray took the far end of the still connected paper and handed it to Peter. "And this is the readings we took just a few hours later."

Peter compared the two different layouts and furrowed his brow. "Ray, this can't be right." He decided as he held up the two papers side by side. "The PKE meter was damaged when Egon was injured. This can't possibly be accurate."

"It is." Ray sighed and rested his head in his hand as he leaned tiredly against the table. "I've checked it and re-checked it. Three times."

"But if this is correct: our readings are one hundred percent accurate with no room for errors, then that means..."

"Yeah, I know." He glanced upward at Peter with a forlorn look in his usually calm eyes. "Whatever this phenomenon is it's stronger, more powerful and far more dangerous than Gozer or Vigo ever were. We're in trouble."

Peter tossed the papers dismissively in the air and folded his arms together. "Great. Business as usual."

"Peter, I don't think we can do anything to stop it. Not this time."

"Why's that? Because Winston is out of town and Egon is out of commission? And no authority figure in this city ever listens to us? And the mayor doesn't like us? And if we admit to sneaking into the Mercado we'll end up in jail? Again."

"No." Ray ran both of his hands over his tired face as he sighed again, his whole body tired and his mind becoming just as fatigued. "Because we don't have enough time to stop this. Not anymore."

"Time? Exactly how much time do we have?"

Ray handed Peter another piece of paper with his calculations drawn out. "The city has less than forty eight hours before the storm reaches critical mass and levels every building in a six hundred mile radius."

"Great. How much time do we need?"

"This is just a rough estimation, but... I'd say at least ninety seven hours."

"Consecutive?"

"Yes, Peter. Consecutive."

"We'll be fine." Peter was as laidback and carefree as usual. "Speaking of fine," he tossed aside the paper in his hand and leaned down casually on the table in Ray's direction. "I think Dana may have given us a crucial piece of information about our little predicament."

"What's that?" Ray lifted his head just enough to look at Peter.

"You know that saying about lightning never striking the same place twice, right?"

Ray nodded affirmatively, while unsure of what it was Peter was hinting toward.

"Well, what are the odds that the roof of the Mercado would be struck multiple times in the same night, by the same storm? AND, here's the kicker: what are the odds of it suddenly doing so despite never having unleashed any reported lightning strikes in the, what is now; prior sixteen days it's been hovering over the city?"

Ray's eyebrow arched inquisitively. "What are you suggesting Venkman? That the storm is self aware? Maybe even conscious?"

"These are some pretty extreme psychokinetic readouts aren't they?" Peter asked as he motioned to the dropped papers on the floor and scattered across the table surface.

"You're right." Ray felt a rush of 'eureka' washing over him. "But how? How is this storm conscious? Something must be channeling energy to the storm. But what? And where is it?"

"Hey Ray," Peter glanced up at the green lightbulb over the containment unit and thought back to his time spent stumbling around in the dark basement of the Mercado in an attempt to locate the break box. "did I tell you about the very interesting furnace located in the deep, dark basement of the haunted hotel?"

"Furnace? What about it?"

"Well, for one it glows in the dark. As in green. Against darkness." Peter was picturing the very item in his mind as he spoke of it. "And as soon as the lights came back on the green glow went away. Now, what does that tell you?"

"Seeing as a hotel would only have access to a traditional gas furnace and not a nuclear reactor, I'd say that furnace you saw wasn't really a furnace."

"It's some kind of containment unit. Someone built a machine designed to create this ghost storm." Peter answered definitively. "But why? And whom?"

Ray shook his head. "Can't say for sure. We have to go back to the Mercado and check it out." Ray stood up quickly from his stool and in the process stumbled slightly as the fresh bruises on his knees protested the full weight of his body. "Ow! You coming?"

"No." Peter was determined and didn't budge. "And neither are you."

"What? Why? If we-"

"Ray, we're not going to leave Egon and Dana here alone. And you, you my excitable and bushy haired friend, are too tired to think straight. So you're going to stay here and I'm going to check out the furnace. Alone."

"But-"

"No buts. Or ifs or ands." Peter declared as he jumped down from the table. "It'll be easier for one person to get back inside the hotel. And it'll be even easier if that one person already has some idea of the layout of the basement."

"Fine, you're right. I hate to admit it but you are right." Ray stopped trying argue. "Take the PKE meter and the camera. We'll need as much information about it as possible."

"Easy." Peter cheerfully declared as he patted Ray on the shoulder. "What could go wrong?"

Ray flashed a very worried look. "Maybe I should go with you-"

"Nope. You're staying here. Stay!" Peter pointed at Ray as he backed out of the basement and ascended the stairs while continuing to walk backward. "Stay. Good boy!" As he disappeared from sight at the top of the stairs he called out one more time to Ray. "I'm taking the car, dad! Be back before curfew, honest!"

Ray chuckled to himself as Peter left in his usual tactless style. Slowly walking up and out of the basement he caught sight of the taillights of Ecto-1 pulling out of the garage and turning left down the street.

"I just hope we're not too late." Ray looked up at the second staircase leading to the second story of the building. "For more than one reason."

Forcing himself to walk up to the second floor Ray felt an intense guilt begin weighing down on his shoulders. A part of him felt as though he was somehow responsible for Egon becoming injured, while an even bigger part of his felt as though he had abandoned his friend when he needed help the most because he was ready to just give up and let Egon go. It was Peter who refused to stop and managed to revive Egon, literally bringing the injured man back from the dead.

As his foot landed on the top step he heard the floor creak and groan which brought him out of his self induced guilt trip. Through the always opened doorway he could see Egon asleep on his bunk and knew that Dana was sitting on the bunk across from him, keeping vigil.

Walking to the door frame he stopped and glanced inside the quiet, peaceful bunk room and stared at Egon as he slept.

"He's okay." Dana whispered to Ray. "Where'd Peter go? I heard the car leave."

"Oh, he'll be back soon." Ray replied without looking away from Egon. "He's going to check out the basement of the Mercado. We're pretty sure that the answer lies in a machine that was constructed for the sole purpose of creating the storm."

"The hotel wasn't designed by that Shandor lunatic, was it?"

"No, that was the first thing I checked when I went down to analyze the data. Ivo Shador has nothing to do this building." Ray awkwardly rubbed at his chin as he continued to theorize and calculate in his head. "But I wouldn't be surprised if the Mercado doesn't have some sort of shady history behind it. I'll go down and check the old archives and-"

"Ray?" Dana softly interrupted. "Get some rest. Please."

Looking at his bunk beside Egon's he realized how much more he wanted to sleep than study. Despite his undeniable fatigue Ray was compelled to continue his research on the storm. "I can't. There's too much work to be done and without Winston available we can't afford to lose anytime."

"And Egon." Dana knew what Ray was really thinking about. "It's not your fault that Egon is down and Winston isn't here; and that doesn't mean you have to take on everybody's responsibility. If you don't stop to take care of yourself then you're going to collapse. And then what?"

Ray looked back at the bunk and realized that Dana was right.

"I'll wake you if anything happens." Dana encouraged. "Now, sleep."

Walking over to his bunk he reluctantly laid down on top of the covers and shut his eyes. "Alright, but for no more than two hours. Then right back to work! Agreed?"

"Agreed." Dana was just glad to see him finally taking a moment to relax. "I'll wake you up in two hours, not a second longer."

Looking back at Egon she smiled and whispered to him. "You mean too much to everyone here. Please come back to us soon."

The gathered ever darkening storm clouds thickened over the Mercado and filled the air with the scent of impending rain. Low rumbles of thunder echoed over the city and shook the foundation of the building. The uncommonly empty streets of New York amplified every sound that emanated from the heart of the deadly storm. Brief flashes of lightning could be see sparking across the clouds as the ethereal storm continued to build in intensity if not pure energy.

"You too, Peter." Dana whispered to herself as she caught sight of the storm through the nearby window behind her. "Come back soon. We need you, too."

...to be continued...