Pausing to catch his breath and gather his thoughts as he entered the room Peter was immediately hugged by Dana and felt a little at ease. Glancing toward the bunk where Egon was resting he saw that Egon was wearing his glasses again and his color was a much healthier shade for a living, breathing human. His uneasiness was lightened considerably and was no longer shaking from his close call in the basement of the Mercado Hotel.

"Portal?" Dana repeated softly to herself as the revelation carried much more weight than she had anticipated. Letting Peter out of her hug she returned her focus to Dr. Spengler. "Egon, are you saying that the hotel was designed to be a portal for the afterlife?"

"It's entirely possible that the original architect of the building had desires to contact the afterlife and designed the building to do so." He answered with a monotonous facade. "Shandor managed to recruit an impressing following for his Gozerian cult."

"But Egon," Ray rebutted his friend's conclusion calmly. "the Mercado isn't one of Shandor's buildings. After we took down Gozer I looked into all of Shandor's work throughout the city and the Mercado, or 'Ingress' wasn't something he created."

"I highly doubt that Ivo Shandor was the only member of Gozer's cult with an affinity for architecture or creation." Egon explained as tried and failed to sit up in his bunk.

Peter cleared his throat and interrupted the less than cheerful discussion. "Er-hem! If I can get a word in edgewise," he playfully intervened. "I had a close encounter in the basement of the Mercado, AND I didn't scream despite being screeched at by some undead witch with a promising singing career."

"Really?" Ray was an intrigued as he was excited about Peter's return and his possible answers.

"Yes. I think we can get her an audition on 'Star Search'."

"Not that!" Ray took a grip on the camera strap still dangling around Peter's neck. "The witch! What did she do? What did you see? Get a good picture?"

"I saw," Peter took the camera from around his neck and practically shoved the item into Ray's hands. "more than I wanted. And man, did I get an earful."

"It sounds as though you've encountered a banshee." Egon analyzed Peter's description and compared it to one of the many entries in 'Tobin's Spirit Guide'.

Looking away from Ray and toward Egon he managed to conceal the slight grin that crept over his face. "And you! What kind of respectable scientist loses his glasses in the middle of an experiment? You're grounded mister!"

"It's nice to see you too, Peter." Egon wasn't in a comedic mood thanks to his injury and the lingering, resulting pain. "You managed to get photos of the ghost?"

"Not quite. Just the furnace looking thing that she emerged from."

Ray energetically grabbed onto Peter's shoulders. "We need to get this film developed! I can't wait to get a look at it! Come on, we can use the basement to make a new dark room!" Rushing down the stairs like a little kid excited on Christmas morning Ray was out of sight and in the basement in a flash.

"Sounds kinky..." Peter tagged on as he slowly meandered down the staircase and followed Ray into the basement.

Alone in the bunk room Dana returned to Egon's bunk and sat on the edge next to him. "Maybe I should change your bandages. Don't want you to get an infection."

"Dana." Egon was becoming more alert, his energy slowly returning. "I need to know and I believe you're the one who will be honest with me. When I made my way back to the firehouse, how severely was I injured?"

Unable to look Egon in the eye Dana focused on the white gauze wrapped around his chest. "Egon I don't have any medical training, I don't think I can give you to answers you're looking for."

"I just have one question, if you don't want to answer you don't have to, but please, don't lie."

Finally looking back into his gaze she nodded respectfully as she continued to unwrap the gauze. "Okay. I won't lie."

Sitting upright in the bunk, with Dana's assistance to aid him as he moved, Egon looked down at his unveiled injury with a scientific curiosity that was etched across his otherwise stoic face. "While treating my injuries did I... succumb?"

The question made Dana's heart skip a beat. "You... want to know if..."

"Did I die?" Egon asked firmly without flinching. "I must know."

Reluctantly, but honestly, Dana answered the uncomfortable question. "Yes, Egon. Your heart stopped and you were... You were gone."

"I was resuscitated. By whom? Paramedics?"

"Peter. Peter managed to revive you."

"Peter?" Egon seemed genuinely surprised by the revelation.

"You refused to go to a hospital and Peter didn't take you in. Instead he helped Ray take care of you."

"I... I refused to seek medical attention?"

"You said no doctor, no hospital. We didn't know why you refused to go but we respected your request." Dana explained with a gentleness normally reserved for her own son. "I'm going to get some clean bandages. I'll be right back."

Looking down at his burned and raw chest Egon gingerly pressed his fingers over the injury only to retract his hand as the touch was too intense to bear.

"Second degree electrical burn of the subcutaneous tissue and underlying muscles." He self diagnosed as he awaited Dana's return. "Close proximity to the heart would result in an instant arrhythmia of a temporary nature; permanent if the amp of the strike was of a high enough charge." Pressing his hand to his rib cage Egon managed to detect at least two fractured ribs which was a common effect of having endured strong chest compressions. "Prolonged rapid heartbeat and a dangerous increase in blood pressure would lead to full cardiac arrest."

"Egon?" Dana returned to the bunk room with fresh bandages in her hands. "I could hear you talking, are you feeling alright?"

"All things considered, yes. I was merely thinking out loud." His intellectual quirks had become fairly known to Dana. "I believe I know know what happened to me between the hotel and waking up in the firehouse."

"Oh?" Dana gently began re-cleaning the painful burn with a delicate touch.

"There is only one moment I can't account for." Glancing out the window and noting the change in the darkness of the storm clouds before checking the time on Dana's watch Egon struggled to put together an accurate timeline. "How long was I... 'gone'?"

"I'm not sure. Everything happened to quickly and Peter took charge of the situation."

"If you had to estimate a time frame how long would you wager?"

"Perhaps... two minutes."

"Two minutes." Egon began doing mental calculations based on the latest studies about the human brain when faced with oxygen deprivation. "Not long enough to sustain any significant brain damage. The shutting down and restoration of the brains synapses could possibly induce vivid dreams or hallucinations."

"Are you sure you're alright?" Dana was still worried about Egon despite his already impressive recovery.

"I believe so. Where's Ray, the basement? I need to speak with him."

"Just take it easy." She put a hand on his shoulder to keep him from trying to get up. "Ray isn't going anywhere. Neither am I or Peter."

"This is important. If what I saw was true then I may know how to stop this apocalypse, this 'kismet', before it happens."

"Egon, what did you see?"

The photographs that Peter had taken at the hotel had been developed and were now hanging on a tight wire through the dimly lit basement. There were no locked doors this time as the previous attempt to photograph a paranormal artifact had nearly gotten Ray and Egon killed when an ethereal force locked them inside their original dark room and ignited a fire that engulfed the photos in the process.

Dipping the last of the two dozen photos in the necessary chemical baths Ray patiently scanned over the photos that had already been developed and were drying on the wire.

"That's no furnace, you were right Peter." Ray was taking in every detail of the unusual contraption. "The metal used to create it isn't the proper alloy for heat conduction but it's perfect for electrical conduction."

"See? Do I know my home appliances or what?" Peter boasted arrogantly as he too admired his work. "And it only cost me one of my five senses in the process."

"Still having a hard time hearing anything?" Ray questioned sincerely.

"Huh? What did you say?"

"I said..." Ray just shook his head when he saw the smug grin appear on Peter's face. "Cute."

"So we know that the furnace isn't really a furnace and we know that the hotel is kind of like a Shandor building, but it isn't really a Shandor building. What do we know for sure?"

"Well, we know that the storm has been churning over the city for seventeen days now and it's getting stronger. We know that it's being drawn to the Mercado hotel and it doesn't like visitors poking around the rooftop-"

"Or the basement!" Peter interrupted. "Please go on."

"Right, or the basement. And we know that either the storm or someone, or something, inside the storm is conscious. We need to put a name to the ghost in the storm and to the architect of the Mercado."

"Think your fancy collection of ill-gotten city blueprints could hold the answer?"

"I doubt it. Those blueprints date back only so far. I already checked for Shandor's name for the Mercado and he's not there."

"You checked for The Mercado," Peter pointed a finger into the air as he began toying with an interesting idea. "but what about The Ingress? If The Mercado had any reconstruction since it was purchased and renamed..."

"Then the original architect's name would be erased from the redesigned blueprints." Ray gave Peter a very approving smile. "You're onto something!"

"Where'd you stay the blueprints? I want to give it another look."

"Upstairs in your office."

"Let me guess, you filed it under 'B' for blueprint?" Peter quipped as he practically skipped out of the dark basement and back onto the first floor.

Removing the final photograph from its chemical bath Ray hung it up on the line with the others and waited for it to develop fully before turning back on any proper lights. Starting from the first photo and walking down the line Ray took in the bizarre images until each one was burned into his memory.

"What the...? Is that a... face?" Ray got uncomfortably close to the sixth photo on the line and tried to wrap his head around the unusual shape he was seeing. The face of a young, eyeless screaming woman with wild hair steadily came into focus. "That's the banshee. The furnace must be some kind of gateway..."

...to be continued...