17
They watched the police officer drive off and turned to hear a strange, sharp report behind them. The glass windows of the pseudo occult shop had cracked and shimmered with vibration. Winston grabbed Ray and managed to get hold of Peter's sleeve as he dove toward the gutter. "Duck!" he hollered just before the glass shattered. They were peppered with pellet-like shards. Most of the glass bounced harmlessly from Winston and Ray's backsides, but Peter had only been staggered and spun and thus remained at a crouch with a head full of glass. Egon had only shrugged to the side and was well coated also. Glittering crystals slid from their jumpsuits, some of it jutting out at scary angles, and while the two who had remained on their feet were just beginning to show webbing of fine red lines across their faces, necks, and hands, the teenaged girl squatted for a handful of the sharp stuff she poured between her fingers like sand.
"Okay," Peter said, rising slowly and wincing as he felt shards slide between his collar and his back. His left ear was bleeding and he hadn't noticed it yet, but a large red drop kept growing in size at his lobe, threatening to create an impressive stain when it finally met his shoulder. Before he could continue his thought they were startled by even louder sounds like gunshots too close for comfort, and looked about wildly for the source of the noises. A dark line spread across the face of the shop in jagged spurts that followed the lines of bricks beneath the paint. Egon recognized the danger and motioned them farther into the street, away from the structure. The sidewalk erupted into tree-branch patterns, sharp edges churning upward. Then a nice chunk of the building dropped toward them, falling in slow-motion, raising dust and chunks of bricks, mortar and cement while exposed cables popped like miniature fireworks. Hacking until he expectorated a long line of dust-filled saliva, Venkman swiped a sleeve across his face, then tried, "Obviously-"
The rest of the building began to fall away from them as a roar like Niagara Falls drowned out the rest of his sentence. Dust obscured some of the view, but it was soon very clear that some sort of a giant sinkhole was opening up in the center of the little collection of shops, swallowing everything for at least a block around. Venkman looked wildly for the stranger; the only one of them seemingly unaffected by it all. She had parked herself on a small bench across the street and was raptly watching the spectacle like it was some crazy action film being played out live just for her viewing pleasure. He knew she was key to resolving the situation if not simply getting them back home in one piece. Beneath their feet the ground rippled and warped like waves. The guys were tossed and jolted like popcorn. The edges of the sinkhole were spreading and he figured he might have one chance to make a single wish. His pack had powered down automatically after several minutes of non-use. He struggled to feel for the switch on the back that would warm it up and saw Ray's look of confusion. Trying to point at Amanda, he heard a familiar sound near him and saw that Egon had managed to power his pack up. Winston's thrower wand was damaged. It would be dangerous for him to attempt to utilize it. He was trying to spread his limbs out as far as possible to stabilize himself as though he was on cracking ice and not a paved roadway. The sidewalk shattered, sounding a lot like a heavy rain on a tin roof before it vanished from view. The more flexible asphalt began to curve away beneath them as the hole grew wider.
Peter flicked a switch on his thrower, but was unable to aim. He had no idea if his plan would work or not, but he could see that Ray and Egon were willing to give it a try also. The blacktop bucked, tossing him a few feet in the air and he hollered, losing his grip on his weapon. Egon fired and the stream went wild, dancing far past the teenager who remained aggravatingly still and serene like an uninvolved figure in a dream. They heard a fire truck draw near. Peter bounced and rolled toward the gap that was inevitably coming for him, uncertain whether he wanted to watch his fate unfold or not. Winston grabbed his ankle, but he was sliding.
The concrete on the other side became a wall of white fog and Amanda was lost. Egon was afraid his wild proton stream might hurt someone innocent and was trying to turn it off. If they'd only been able to get the girl's attention…the genie…whatever the heck she was…. She turned energy into matter and could disregard the laws of physics….
"No," they thought they heard.
Venkman landed hard upon knees, hips, ribcage, and chin, almost biting through the end of his tongue. He lay still, hurting.
Zeddemore remained upon his back staring dazedly up at a pretty pale fog that was beginning to break apart, revealing patches of inky blackness dazzling with stars. He remained in contact with one of Venkman's bootlaces. One of the shoulder straps to his proton pack had broken and it lay beside him at an odd angle, still somewhat strapped to one arm.
Stantz had pushed himself up from the waist, but hung his head as he suffered a terrible coughing fit.
Spengler took a halting deep breath and held it, counting slowly to fifteen before releasing it, and then he rolled onto his side to see what was happening. His damaged proton pack was tangled up in his legs.
Feet maneuvered gingerly around and between them. Amanda wore black half boots with low heels that made no sound as they picked their way over loose gravel and other crunchy debris. As she neared Venkman, he saw for the first time that he was apparently balanced on the edge of an abrupt drop and froze in fear. She strolled past him, the soles of her shoes remaining on the same plane she'd trod when still on asphalt…but there appeared to be only air beneath her. Peter slowly brought an arm around to test the empty airspace he assumed he practically dangled over, and while his skin registered the movement of warm air, his brain told him he remained on a flat and stable surface.
As the dust settled, some of it caught by errant drafts and sent dancing and whirling around them, they noted the dead woman dangling in mid-air at about the center of where the ring of buildings had been. She faced her visitor and said nothing.
Peter convinced himself to roll toward the drop-off. He suffered terrible vertigo looking past his hands as he put weight on them, watching them flatten out. It's glass, he told himself. There's a giant sheet of glass between me and death, so it's okay. I'm okay. Winston was watching him, breathing hard, and having difficulty processing what he was seeing. As Amanda drew closer, there was a sudden tremor that made them all yelp and yodel. Venkman panted over his splayed hands, watching loose soil bounce and skitter far down into darkness. The asphalt had broken away from beneath his knees and he didn't even know it yet. Winston tried to sit up on one hip, watching incredulously as his friend remained in place in mid-air.
Ray tried to rise, but was still unsteady with shock. His equilibrium quivered and he staggered backward, falling over Egon. That's when Peter glanced back to make sure everyone else was okay and finally saw something that made him go stiff with fear.
"You're okay," Spengler assured him. "But…you'd be safer if you crawled farther this way."
He looked down past his hands and knees and squeaked, "I don't wanna move!"
"I gotcha, Peter," Winston told him soothingly, reaching for his ankle again. He grabbed both of them. "I'm going to guide you backward. If you fall, I've got you."
"I think you weigh more than I do. Please don't fall over the edge on me." Closing his eyes, he swallowed, and then opened them again, preferring to gaze straight ahead and pretend the ground was still solid.
"No, Ray!" he heard Spengler call as Stantz found his feet and tottered forward, pausing for only a moment before strolling directly over the edge of the sinkhole, keeping his focus on the two females ahead of him.
Amanda had stopped before the ghoul that dipped and bobbed ever so slightly, apparently unable to enjoy the illusion of terra firma. She stared into the empty sockets of the impossibly sad, grayish face, long black tendrils of hair flowing about her as though she was underwater. The brows of the corpse seemed to lift and another tremor occurred.
"No more," the teenager told her.
The marionette-like figure writhed a little before turning toward the other girl with her mouth a large, vague shape that widened grotesquely as she neared her adversary.
The girl stayed her ground as the other dissipated into a wet, pinkish grey mist that swirled and elongated like a mini-tornado. Her clothing fell to shreds and pieces whipped by, but not a puff of disturbed air touched the teenager. The earth shuddered and a horrible sound erupted from below like a distorted chorus blended with the sound of a speeding subway train trying to brake around a curve. Peter dropped and rolled toward Winston, but the ground crumbled away from beneath them all. Vivid flashes of colored lights astounded and disoriented them and they added their own screams to the cacophony. The whirlwind of body fluids and viscous matter and loose hair spun around and engulfed Amanda completely. The bench broke and fell into the widening chasm in two pieces followed soon thereafter by a fire hydrant that shot water high into the air and several trees planted by the city as part of their beautification project. The fire engine that had stopped half a block away was thrown into reverse and backed smartly into an ambulance that was whizzing around the corner. The occupants fled the vehicles like cockroaches, scrambling as far as they could, but unwilling to miss the spectacle. Streetlights and street signs dropped and vanished. A mailbox tilted and dove into nothingness while a statue of two children playing with a dog broke and slid into the earth's widening maw. No one could see above the vacuum for all the dust it was creating until Winston banged his thrower against what felt like something solid and aimed toward where he'd last seen the two females.
The faulty wand glowed with energy, died, began an intermittent whine while a warning light on the back came on followed by another. Pushing himself upright, he managed to get his bearings when a fortunate wind gust cleared a few puzzle pieces of airborne debris from his view. In the center of the mess churned a whirlwind black and ominous. Winston provoked his pack into overload, lifted it and spun with it like an Olympic discus champ before he tripped over Venkman and threw badly. The wand tried to wriggle free as though it knew what was coming. The pack disappeared into roiling clouds and presumably slid a bit off the mark. Bending, he grabbed a handful of Venkman's jumpsuit and started power-dragging him toward the edge of the mess. He didn't honestly believe they would clear the blast zone. He never once thought their chance of survival was good.
There was an odd lemon-yellow flash that lit a section of dirt-filled air like half a glowing sphere prickling with a few fine lances of light. The light died and was replaced by a smaller, fainter sea-green glow that lingered, throbbing gently for a few tremendously long seconds before the actual explosion occurred.
Everyone thought they were dead. Spengler hadn't seen anything. He'd been concealed by choking dust, coughing, hacking and trying to crawl away from what he thought of as Ground Zero. Winston hadn't so much been thrown off his feet as possessed by an undeniable impulse to leap at the last second, legs pumping, landing awkwardly on an ankle before he hit ground and rolled. Peter had tried to crawl while being dragged, but collapsed, his eyes and throat stinging. And Ray had remained still throughout the ordeal, entranced, innately knowing everything would, someway somehow turn out okay. Even if it meant he was dead.
The dust settled eventually. Amanda stood, untouched, unmarred, and facing Ray. He smiled beatifically at her, feeling like he was glowing. She watched him passively, her very fair skin nearly glowing from what little light reflected off of it. She eventually moved toward him, and he reached his hands out as if to take hers in them. She ignored him, so he thought he was going to get a hug instead, but his arms closed in until he was hugging himself and he dropped to his knees in the air, coughing a little and whispering, "Oh, my…."
No one had seen her walk through him aside from a few of the emergency responders. As far as they knew, she was part of the problem and to be avoided. She reached Pete first and reached for his belt, hauling him upright by it with one hand until he was steady on his feet, hacking against a fist as he rubbed at his eyes and watched her move on. She patted Winston's back until he moved, her fingers gliding down his jumpsuit until they found the injured ankle. She peeled his laced boot back like a banana skin, drew his sock down and held his ankle for a few counts before lowering it gently and moving on. Finally she approached Egon, who had managed to work himself into a sitting position, and pulled the cracked lenses from his face. She held up the eyeglasses and looked through them, tried them on and blinked at him, then placed them back upon his nose. The lenses were once more whole and even spotlessly clean.
With a sigh, she continued on until she had reached actual ground, and then she wandered off in the general direction of the Ectomobile.