The tunnel under the school was long and twisting and confusing. Steve had long ago grown weary of the winding paths. From Pete's expression, he had as well.
"It has to come out somewhere," Pete frowned. "Why haven't we found a door yet?"
"Your guess is as good as mine," Steve retorted. He pressed against the wall, which he had been doing all along the way. If there was a hidden door anywhere down here, he hadn't been able to find it.
A sudden, strange whirring noise brought their attention sharply upward. Pete stared at one particular stretch of ceiling where the noise seemed to be the loudest.
"I think someone just activated part of the Manzana Valley Prep hauntings," he said.
"And just what part of it could be making a noise like that?" Steve objected.
"Maybe the recording device they're using to play back all the grotesque threats?" Pete suggested
"I don't hear any voices," Steve pointed out.
"I wonder . . ." Pete trailed off with a frown.
"What?" Steve demanded.
"Well, I don't remember hearing about this happening, but I just started to wonder whether there could be any holographic projectors with ghostly images," Pete said. "The Manzana Valley Prep hauntings have mostly involved hearing and feeling things, but it would seem strange if they didn't also have some images."
"And maybe there's a hole in the floor of the ground level where the projector beam comes through and displays the holograms?" Steve said dryly.
"I know it doesn't sound reasonable," Pete said ruefully. "But okay, if it's not actually between the ceiling here and the floor there, there has to be some other reason why we're hearing it so clearly—and why I haven't found any trace of a projector."
Steve sighed. "Okay, maybe there is some odd little space where a machine has been hidden. But why? And how? It would almost imply that such a space was built right into the school during construction. And that implies that this scheme may have been planned all the way back then and someone on the construction crew was secretly paid to make these additions."
"That's possible, isn't it?" Pete felt around the area, certain there had to be a lever or spring nearby. Above them, the whirring noise persisted in a very loud and ominous manner.
"Of course it's possible," Steve retorted. "But why on Earth would . . ."
He trailed off as a horrific crash actually vibrated the area where they were. Pete grabbed onto the wall, his eyes wide.
"What is that?!" Steve exclaimed.
"Aaron Stuart," a voice now intoned from above. "This is your last warning. Now you're going to die."
Pete stared upward. "I wonder . . . no, it's too fantastic."
"I'm not sure that anything is too fantastic at this point," Steve scowled. "Tell me what you're thinking."
"Well," Pete said slowly, "I've heard about some companies, both here and in Oregon, that have been developing incredibly realistic and lifelike holographic technology. Not only is it three-dimensional, some of it is advanced enough to cause physical damage."
"Why would anyone develop something so dangerous?!" Steve yelled over the sound of another crash.
"I think the original idea was that it could be useful to the military," Pete called back. "Then someone else decided that it could also work for gaming technology. You know, for people who want a real hands-on experience."
"And just maybe someone had the brilliant idea that it could also be used as made-to-order poltergeists," Steve guessed.
"It would sure be convincing," Pete shuddered.
"If our phones worked down here, I'd try calling a couple of people I know and ask them about their company's holograms," Steve grumbled. "Unfortunately, down here we're on our own."
"Help me look for the panel," Pete requested. "I'm sure there's a way upstairs from right here."
Steve finally nodded. "Alright." The only other option was continuing down the tunnel, and he had to admit that it seemed more logical to stay right here, where all the strange things were happening.
He just had to wonder whatever was going on upstairs and if anyone was getting hurt.
xxxx
Aaron jumped a mile as something crashed out in the hall, right near the gym. "What was that?!" he gasped.
Most of the students had heard it too, in spite of the blaring music. Some of them ran over to where the Stuarts were still sitting near the door. "Wow, what's going on out there?!" one boy cried.
"Don't go out there," Aaron snapped in concern. "You might end up hurt."
Paul drew his gun and hurried into the hall. "A table fell over out here," he said in disbelief. "And . . . there's something coming towards us!" His stomach twisted. "Oh no."
"You sound like you know what it is, Paul," Hamilton frowned.
"I told Perry that some of the ghostly devices were dangerous, but I never got to explain how," Paul told him as he rushed back into the gym. "I found out that a very advanced holographic machine was delivered here in secret right before all this chaos started."
"So what does that mean?" Hamilton asked, raising an eyebrow.
"It means that the school is probably under attack," Paul replied. "My guess is that projectors have been set up in key locations all over the building. Gerard and Eliza, Carola, whoever, activated them for their big finish."
Hamilton scoffed. "We're under attack by holograms? That doesn't sound very dangerous."
"These particular holograms are," Paul said, his visage grim. "They've been developed to be able to cause a certain amount of physical damage. You're supposed to be able to control them to make sure they're not deadly, but how much are you willing to bet that Gerard and Eliza turned off all the safeties?"
"I've heard about technology like that, but I don't really believe it exists," Hamilton retorted, folding his arms.
"You might be forced to," Paul said.
Two students came to the doorway and stared out. "That's wild!" one of them cried. "It looks like a spirit flying down the hall, right at us!"
"Shut the door!" Paul barked.
The students didn't need any prodding. But even as they let the heavy door close and tried to hold it shut, it rattled from the force of the thing outside.
"This is terrible!" Della exclaimed. "What if it can get through the door?"
"Then we've got a problem," Paul said grimly. "We can't fight a hologram. We have to find the main machine and turn everything off from there."
"And Perry and Sergeant Brice are right out in this!" Della wailed in distress. "Maybe Steve and Pete are too; we don't know where they are now!"
"I know." Paul turned to look at another part of the room. "I'm going to go out this door over here and see if I can find them and the machine. You stay here with Burger and the Stuarts. If we can't stop this in a few minutes, maybe you'd better consider evacuation procedures. We don't know what kind of gas they're planning to pipe through here. And now we've got these holograms to contend with too."
"I've already been thinking about that," Aaron said. "Frankly, we don't know if it's safe outside either, which is why I hesitate to send everyone out. But . . ." He shook his head. "Of course we can't run the risk of everyone being gassed, even if it does turn out to just be a knockout gas. If we don't hear from you in five minutes, I'll start the evacuation."
"Good," Paul nodded. He looked to Della. "Goodbye, Beautiful."
"Paul . . . !" Della stared after him, conflicted, as he ran off. "I can't just sit here while they're all out there in danger!" she burst out.
"Della, what could you do out there?" Hamilton retorted. "It's important to be here with the Stuarts too. And if we have to start evacuating, you'll be needed for that."
"You're here and so is Tobin Wade. Somewhere." Della briefly glanced around for the Grim Reaper but soon abandoned the effort. "So is the rest of the staff, except Janet Gwynne. I think I saw Gene Torg and Pearl Chute here too. There should be enough adults to handle the evacuation. I can't stay here, Mr. Burger. I have to go try to help all the others."
"Miss Street, there's no telling what's out there," Aaron exclaimed. "That . . . hologram or whatever it is outside the door sounds serious."
"And I'm serious about making sure Perry and Paul and Sergeant Brice and Steve and Pete are safe!" Della insisted. "Also, since Janet is missing, how can we just leave her here while everyone else evacuates? She could be somewhere in danger too."
Hamilton groaned, running a hand into his hair. "Maybe Perry or Paul or one of the others will find Ms. Gwynne," he said.
"And maybe they won't," Della retorted. "None of them are specifically looking for her. I could handle that, while at the same time looking for them!"
Hamilton sighed. "Frankly, Della, it doesn't seem like anything I could say will make a difference at this point. If you're so determined to do this, I can't stop you."
Della smiled. "Thank you, Mr. Burger. I promise I'll stay safe." With that she ran to the door through which Paul had left and vanished through it.
Hamilton slumped back, shaking his head. "It's too bad no one can really make that promise and be one hundred percent able to fulfill it," he said quietly, sending up a silent prayer for all of them.
xxxx
The costume room was empty when Perry and Brice arrived, but as they listened, there were definite sounds coming from the other side of the wall.
"That must be the stage," Perry noted.
"Here's the door over here," Brice announced, opening a door half-hidden behind several costume racks.
"Be careful, Sergeant." Perry followed him over. "Do you see anything?"
"Only the blue stage lights are on," Brice replied. "It looks kind of eerie. I don't see anyone onstage . . . wait!" He tensed. "Someone just came out from behind the curtain."
"Who is it?" Perry demanded. "Can you tell?"
"It's two people," Brice said in surprise. "Two women. One of them is holding a gun on the other."
"I don't understand why you're doing this!" the captive cried.
Perry stiffened. "That's Janet Gwynne!"
"Why? That really shouldn't matter to you," the captor retorted. "Anyway, I don't think Gerard would want to tell you; you're known for talking too much."
"Well, he's the one who got bent out of shape when he saw I'd accidentally found one of your little machines," Janet snapped. "I didn't even know what it was, but he acted like I'd learned everything!"
"Gerard doesn't take any chances. He already decided that Ellena and the woman she was possessing are expendable. He feels the same about you." The woman prodded Janet forward with her gun. "You'll step off the stage and it will look like an accident."
"You don't want to do this." Janet's voice was firm and angry, but there was fear in it as well. "I can tell by the way you can't hold the gun steady. Even if Gerard is a murderer, you're not."
"But I haven't tried to stop him," was the reply. "That makes me an accessory."
"If you force me to fall off the stage, it's first-degree for sure!" Janet exclaimed.
Brice rushed through the door, gun outstretched. "Stop! L.A.P.D.!" he yelled.
The woman with the gun jumped a mile and whirled, aiming her weapon at Brice. Janet knocked it from her hands, sending it spinning across the floor. Perry grabbed it up and hurried over to her. "Are you alright, Ms. Gwynne?"
"Fine," Janet said in relief. "But what's going on around here?!"
"I think this young lady should be able to tell us," Perry replied, training his gun on the now-subdued woman.
Brice came over, still holding his gun. "You have the right to remain silent," he recited as he took out the handcuffs.
Suddenly the woman sprang into action again, kicking out at Brice and running in desperation for backstage. He grabbed for her, catching one of her arms before she could get away.
A gunshot rang out through the room from somewhere near the ceiling. With a gasp of shock and pain, the woman sank to her knees and then to the floor.
Janet went stiff in horror. "Is she dead?!"
Perry dropped down to look while Brice scanned the rafters in the direction of the shot. "She's alive," he reported. "Come here and try to stop the bleeding." Taking out his phone, he dialed 911.
Janet, stunned but steeling herself for the task at hand, knelt as well and took a handkerchief to press against the wound. "It's in her shoulder," she reported.
Perry nodded. "She should be alright, unless she loses too much blood."
"The shock caused her to black out," Janet frowned. "And what are we going to do with that maniac in here with us?"
Perry glanced to Sergeant Brice. "I don't know," he said quietly.
"You might as well come out," Brice called up to the mysterious shooter. "You're never going to get away with this."
Another gunshot answered him, drilling into the stage near his feet. "You have to be crazy if you think I'm going to surrender," a male voice snarled. "I've waited too long for this."
"For what?" Brice exclaimed. "It isn't revenge on Dr. Stuart that you want. What could be so important?"
"I'm not going to tell you that, either." For a moment there was silence. Then without warning, a heavy sandbag plunged towards Brice. He ducked out of the way just before it hit the stage.
"It's a distraction," Perry realized as he hung up with the dispatcher. "He's getting away!"
"Not on my watch," Brice vowed, hurrying across the stage and still looking desperately up at the catwalks. He couldn't climb up himself, but if he could figure out which one Gerard was on, he could be waiting at the point of descent.
Perry shook his head. "You have to marvel at the strength of that man," he remarked. "He's wounded and yet he's still doing all of this. A man with that level of determination is very dangerous."
Janet was barely listening. "Look out!" she screamed at Brice.
Gerard was jumping down from the catwalk, directly at Brice. The sergeant leaped and tackled him, bringing him to the floor. As they struggled, Gerard's gun between them, Perry got to his feet.
"Stop!" he commanded, firing his gun into the air.
It didn't even faze Gerard. Bent on whatever ideas he was fighting to fulfill, he pushed the gun into Brice's torso and fired.
Brice gasped, falling back to the floor and going still. Sneering, Gerard got to his feet and looked to Perry, holding his gun level with Perry's. In an instant he had fired, knocking Perry's gun off the stage and across the floor.
Perry's stomach turned. "You've just shot a police officer," he said, sickened at the sight of Brice lying there so lifeless. Was he dead? Considering the angle of the bullet, if he wasn't dead it wasn't likely he would live long, especially if the wound was left untreated. And right now, Perry couldn't get to him.
"It's a crying shame, too," Gerard said darkly. "Aaron Stuart was supposed to be the only casualty. No one would have connected his death with me, especially since I didn't even know Tobin Wade. It was Carola who knew him. She got us in on this whole plot. She got her whole family in on it."
"Carola?" Perry blinked. "Isn't this woman Eliza?" He indicated the wounded woman near his feet.
Gerard sneered. "Yeah. Carola is her twin sister. Same voice and everything." He held the gun at Perry now. "Of course, I'm only telling you this because you won't be around to tell anyone else."
"So, you're going to commit two more murders?" Perry said darkly. "And how many more?"
"As many as I have to." Gerard started to squeeze the trigger.
"NO!" Della screamed as she ran into the auditorium.
The distraction was a lifesaver. Gerard stiffened, staring into the darkness of the audience. Unable to see who had cried out, and now no longer caring about lingering, he turned and fled backstage. A door banged shut behind him.
Perry looked out into the darkness. "Della?" he called in surprise.
"Yes!" Della rushed up to the stage. "Oh Perry, are you alright?!"
"I am," Perry said slowly. "Della, you saved my life."
Della froze, hearing the odd inflection in Perry's voice. "What about Sergeant Brice?"
Perry looked over at the other man. "Gerard shot him," he said quietly. "I'm afraid he's dead." Now that he was free to go over and look, he walked quickly across the stage and knelt down.
Crying out in horror, Della found the stairs and rushed up as well. "No," she protested, falling to her knees beside her fallen friend. "He was with me only a short time ago. . . . He tried to help me after I regained control of my body. . . ." She grabbed his hand, feeling for a pulse.
Perry frowned, having noticed something he hadn't seen from a distance under the eerie blue lights. But before he could comment, Brice groaned and opened his eyes. "Della?"
"You're alive!" Della exclaimed in amazement and joy. "Sergeant, we thought you were dead!"
"I don't even see a wound," Perry said in surprise. "Bullet-resistant vest?"
"Yeah." Brice weakly smiled as he tried to push himself up. "I guess being hit at that close range stunned me for a few minutes." He cringed in pain. "I think I'll be pretty badly bruised for a while. Of course, that's better than the alternative."
"It certainly is," Perry declared, relieved that he was alright.
"And I hear the ambulance sirens," Janet called out.
"Good," Perry said. "Della, stay here with Ms. Gwynne. Gerard has to be stopped before he can do whatever it is he just ran off to do."
"He's probably going to kill Dr. Stuart," Della exclaimed.
"Or the entire gymnasium," Perry said grimly. "He's definitely insane or evil enough to do it. I hope they're evacuating."
"I'm sure they are by now," Della told him.
Sergeant Brice was standing by now. After quickly reloading his gun, he made his way to the backstage door and slowly opened it. "The hallway's clear," he reported.
A spectral image floated past in the next moment and he jumped back.
"What was that?" Della gasped.
"I'd say a hologram," said Perry.
"Gerard must have rigged a projector near here," Brice mused. He stepped into the hall.
Della looked to Perry. "I suppose you're going with Sergeant Brice."
"Naturally," Perry said. He laid a hand on Della's shoulder. "How are you holding up?"
"I'm alright," Della said. "I'm just worried about you and everyone else."
Perry smiled gently. "We'll be alright."
"Perry . . ." Della gripped Perry's arm. "Sergeant Brice was only alright because he had a bullet-resistant vest. If that had been you Gerard had shot . . ."
"I won't let him have the chance," Perry assured her. With that he stood and hurried to follow Brice.
Della slumped back. "He would have had the chance if I hadn't come in when I did," she said quietly.
xxxx
At long last a panel flew open in the ceiling of the long and winding tunnel when a particular section of wall was pressed. Steve, being taller, pulled himself up and through the opening and then knelt on the floor to help Pete up.
"Where are we?" Pete wondered, gripping Steve's wrists and bracing himself on the wall as he half-climbed, half was pulled up.
"An office," Steve noted. "Probably Dr. Stuart's."
Pete slipped, nearly falling to the floor below. Gritting his teeth, Steve held on, even as he fell halfway into the opening again himself. Finally he and Pete both managed to catch themselves. The second attempt to bring Pete up succeeded, and he knelt in shaking relief on the floor with Steve.
"Thanks," he gasped.
"Anytime," Steve said. "But let's not make it happen again soon, okay?"
"That's fine with me." Pete got to his feet, wandering around the office to confirm its identity. "This is Dr. Stuart's office, alright. But how could the trapdoor be in his floor without him knowing about it?"
Steve closed the panel and stood. "Are you suggesting he does know about it?"
"I don't know," Pete frowned. "How about we find him and ask?"
"Works for me," said Steve.
But before either of them could move, the door burst open and admitted a figure dressed as a Grim Reaper. It gripped its scythe with one hand and, upon noticing the room's occupants, swung the weapon right at them!