Ghost Hunters (6 page)

T
he ledge widened as it arched up and around the chasm, allowing Amy, Troy, and Dick to walk alongside one another with plenty of room to spare. Randall brought up the rear, keeping the camera on his friends while he shone the light ahead of them to shred the darkness from their path.

Dick licked his lips and tasted nervous sweat. He liked Troy, and he was going to feel like shit if he got him killed.

Not that he didn’t already feel like shit for what he’d done to Troy and the others. It had all seemed like such an easy out—use the credit cards to finance the shows, sell the shows, pay off everything and get back in the black. But every pilot piece ended in the same disappointing
nothing
that kept them from drumming up any interest. “I’m going to get us out of this,” Dick said to his crew.

Amy puffed a strand of sweaty hair out of her eyes. “You fucking better.”

The ticking noise was back, insistent and erratic. It seemed to come from all around them, but quit anytime they stopped walking to listen for it.

The tunnel corkscrewed down, branching and twisting its way into a maze. Dick was choosing paths almost at random, stopping only long enough to let Amy unwrap stick after stick of chewing gum. He lost count after the twentieth time she spat out her old gum and replaced it with a new wad. She caught him staring at her and shrugged. “Chewing gum’s my vice. Ripping off your friends and shanghaiing them into cannibal cave country is yours. Guess who isn’t winning the friend of the year award?”

They were standing in a little bulb-shaped cavern with just one way in and one way out. Dick motioned to the wall, “Let’s take a break.”

Troy groaned in agreement, and they eased him back against the wall, with his legs splayed out in front of him. His eyes were glassy and blank, and Dick didn’t like the chill temperature of his skin. They needed to get out of here before Troy bled out.

Dick paced, knuckling his aching back. “This isn’t what I wanted to happen,” he started.

Amy snapped her gum. “Yet here we are.”

Randall took Dick’s side. “He was trying to get us ahead,” he said. “He was trying to keep the dream alive.”

Dick nodded at Randall’s words. He needed them to understand, to see how he’d ended up dragging them into this world of shit. “We were so close, so many times. I just kept thinking we needed to stick with it. We needed to have a new camera, or better sound gear. Something to give us an edge.”

Troy’s head nodded, and he slurred his words. “It’s okay, man.”

But Amy just shook her head. “You know you fucked up. You can’t talk your way out of it. Even if this thing works out, how are we ever going to trust you again?”

“How could you not?” Dick scraped his scalp with his fingernails. “I bet on you even when you were too afraid to bet on yourselves. If—when—we get out of here, we’ll be successful because
I
had faith in us.”

Amy’s eyes narrowed to thin, angry slits. “You can’t spin that line of shit on me.”

Dick snapped his fingers, and the big camera light died.

He sipped his breaths, taking the smallest, shallowest inhalations he could manage. He needed to be able to hear if this was going to work.

Click.

Dick tried to pinpoint the sound, but the echoes confused him. He couldn’t tell if it was coming from ahead of him or behind him. His pulse quickened. He’d fucked up. He hadn’t planned on it going down like this.

Click.

It was definitely closer, but he couldn’t tell how much closer. Dick blinked away nervous sweat and clenched his fingers tighter around the pistol’s handle. He had to make this work.

Clickclick.

Where was that noise coming from? He turned in a slow circle, felt his eyes bulging as they strained to soak up any light. But there was nothing except the deep darkness and—

Clickclickclickclick.

It was right there, so close he could almost feel it. It had to be close for this to work, if it was too far away the whole thing would fall apart. But if he waited too long, there was no telling what might happen. He
knew
it would go for Troy, the weakest of their number, and he also knew Troy couldn’t survive another attack.

Clickclickclick—

Dick thought he knew where it was, he could see it in his mind’s eyes. His hand flew up to his headlamp and slapped the switch, flooding the darkness with sudden light.

It was crouched over Troy, its body hiding the technician from Dick’s view. His eyes were watering from the abrupt change from darkness to light, but he could see the pale arms, the hunched back, the wild mane of black hair hanging down its back. This was his chance, before the thing reacted to the trap he’d set for it.

He stepped forward and swung the pistol down, both hands locked around its grip. In his entire adult life, Dick had never hit anyone like that. The pistol’s butt slammed down against the back of the thing’s head with a solid thud, like a mallet striking a thick piece of wood. The force of the impact ran up Dick’s arm and vibrated in his skull.

The pale monster fell onto Troy. Blood ran onto the floor, pooling around Troy’s legs, and Dick’s heart sank. He needed the freak alive, not bleeding out through a hole he’d knocked in its skull. He nudged it with his foot then pushed it off Troy.

The thing’s eyes fluttered, and the only blood he could see was smeared around its mouth. “Fuck,” he whispered, “Troy.”

He’d been too late. The thing had latched onto Troy’s throat and torn it clean through. Dick fell to his knees at Troy’s sides, gun dangling from his hand. “Oh, shit, Troy.”

Amy came at Dick with both hands hooked into claws. He tried to rise, but she smashed him to the ground and pounced on him, straddling his chest. “You
asshole!
” she growled, slashing at his face with her fingernails. She raked open a ragged wound on his cheek then another across the bridge of his nose, and another down his forehead.

Randall called out from behind the camera’s light, confusion and panic at war in his voice. “You guys, stop. You
guys
.”

Blood roared in Dick’s ears as adrenaline dropped into his bloodstream. He tried to push Amy away, but he didn’t have the leverage and her strength was fueled by raw rage, where he was drained by exhaustion and a deep, soul-sucking sorrow over Troy’s death. He’d had a plan, he’d
fucking
tried. It wasn’t his fault it had all gone wrong.

She threw a hard backhand slap across his jaw, and for long seconds Dick couldn’t see and his head was filled by a Dopplering whine. His teeth clicked together and sliced away a sliver of his tongue, flooding his mouth with the rusty tang of blood. “Stop,” he moaned, raising his left hand to try and ward off Amy’s attacks.

His attempt to defend himself pushed Amy further into her rage. Her eyes were wild, rolling in their sockets as she grabbed his head in both hands and lifted it off the floor. Dick could
feel
the depths of her anger, the intensity of it, through her hands. He saw his death as clear as he’d ever seen anything. Amy was going to smash his head against the stone floor until his skull shattered like an egg and his brains sloshed out.

The blow never came. Amy’s head snapped backward, and she flew off Dick, arms and legs flailing as she arced away. She hit the ground with a meaty thud, and Dick heard the air gush from her lungs.

Randall chased Amy with the light, chanting “Ohshitohshitohshit,” as he turned the camera to follow her.

Dick shook the cobwebs off and scrambled to his feet, eyes glued to Amy’s receding form. The freak he’d tried to trap, the freak who’d killed Troy, was hauling her into the darkness.

Dick raised the gun, took a deep breath, and fired.

B
lood ran down the tunnel’s wall, a crimson trail that dead ended at the pale freak curled on the cold floor. She was young, Dick didn’t figure her to be much more than sixteen, with skin the color of sour milk and wide-set eyes clenched against the unyielding light of Randall’s camera. Her breaths, harsh and shallow, hissed through jagged yellow teeth that curved out past her lips. Dick’s shot had gouged a bloody chunk from her shoulder.

Amy stood next to Dick, hands briskly rubbing her arms as she chomped her gum. She spat a pink wad against the wall and unwrapped a new piece. She jammed the pink stick in her mouth and paced back and forth, chomping at her gum until her nerves calmed enough to speak. “Now what?”

Dick motioned for Randall to get closer to the girl. Her ears were long and tapered to points, their interiors filled with complex circular channels. Her nose was a turned-up spade, the nostrils gapping and surrounded by inflamed pink frills that fluttered with every breath. “You getting this?”

Randall gave Dick a thumbs up and kept shooting.

Dick stared down at the wounded girl. She’d taken Mickey and killed Troy, but he still felt sick looking at the gaping wound he’d inflicted. He had to get this over before he lost his nerve. “Where is she?”

The girl turned her head away from Dick, eyes squeezed tighter. “Ye’re dead,” she whispered, “they’ll bleed ya dry fer comin’ here.”

Dick tapped her knee with his pistol’s barrel. He had to get her to take them to Mickey, or his plan, the plan that had killed Troy, was all for nothing. “Where is she?”

The girl squinted against the bright light, black eyes burning with hatred. “She’s mine. I took her.”

Dick sighed and stood. Amy was staring at him, her eyes brimming with tears. Since he’d rescued her, she’d been chewing gum and staring at him like he was a monster himself. She hadn’t said a word, just stood and stared and trembled while she chomped her gum. She drove him crazy.

He lifted his boot and rested it against the girl’s arm, just below the oozing gunshot wound. “She’s not
yours
. You’re going to take us to her, and then you’re going to show us the way out of this fucking cave.”

Dick put weight on the girl’s arm and watched as the wound gaped open, scorched flesh yawning to reveal glistening red meat beneath. The girl’s teeth gnashed, chewing through her lip. She whimpered and beat the floor with her uninjured arm, a scream building in her chest. Dick kept pushing until fresh blood flowed, bright red in the camera’s white light. Tears ran from the corners of the girl’s eyes and carved jagged tracks through the dirt on her cheeks. “Where is she?”

She spat bloody phlegm at Dick, defiance burning through the pain. “Fuck ya, asshole.”

He couldn’t believe this shit. Dick paced away from the girl, fingers clenching around the pistol, brain burning with frustration. He was trying to make everything easy for people. All they had to do was listen to him, just
do what he fucking asked
, and everything would be fine. But no. They fought him every step of the way. Now he had one member of his crew missing, one dead, and another who’d tried to kill him. All of that, and now the freaky bitch wanted to spit on him? No. Fuck that noise.

Dick rushed at her, face hot with rage. Her black eyes stared at him, daring him, defying him. His hand sliced through the air, bashing the butt of the pistol across her face. Something crunched under the impact, and liquid heat poured over his fingers. His stomach lurched, the blind rage pushed back by horror at what he’d done. He stepped back, and the camera’s light exposed the damage he’d inflicted.

Blood smeared across the girl’s face, a crimson flood gushed from her nose and over her lips and jaw. Her left cheek was swollen and bruised, turning the deep purple of an overripe plum. The eye on that side was ballooning up, lids pushed together until only a narrow slit of an opening remained. But her right eye no longer stared at him. She kept her gaze averted, the defiance knocked out of her.

Now we’re getting somewhere,
Dick thought, a hot rush of exhilaration burning in his chest.

He grabbed her hair and turned her face toward his. “Where is she?”

The girl’s lips trembled, and she looked away, fear etched into her features.

Dick whipped her hair and banged her head off the wall. “Where is she?”

The girl’s good eye rolled in its socket, and her lips twitched, drooling blood. She said something, but the words low and slurred.

Dick gave her hair a tug, and she squealed. “Speak up.”

Amy put a hand on Dick’s gun hand, her touch tentative. “That’s enough,” she whispered.

Dick threw her hand off. “It’s enough when we have Mickey back.”

The girl gulped to clear the blood running down her throat. Her nose was distorted, a mushy flap of broken meat so swollen and clogged with blood it was useless for breathing. She turned her good eye to Dick and cleared her throat. “I’ll show ya. Don’t hurt me no more.”

Dick held onto her hair, ready to bash her head against the wall. She’d killed one of his friends, right in front of him, he had to keep reminding himself of that. He was in charge here, the freak had to what he said. He didn’t care that she looked like a filthy teenager with bad genetics, she was a monster.

She leaned against the wall and pushed with her legs to stand. Dick helped her along by pulling her hair, hoisting her onto her feet and tearing out little chunks of her scalp at the same time. “I’m right behind you,” he said, “and if you fuck with us, I will put a bullet right through the back of your deformed skull.”

The girl tried to nod, but his grip on her hair stopped her. Dick saw the last of the fight leech out of the girl, she took a shuffling step, shoulders slumped, head bowed. He released her hair and followed her into the darkness.

Randall kept the light trained on them, but the tunnels were narrower where she led. The girl kept stopping and clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth.

Clickclickclick.

The sound brought Troy’s death rushing back and Dick felt his finger closing around the pistol’s trigger. He wanted to put the pistol against the back of her head and pull the trigger.

Amy’s hand on his shoulder snapped him out of his rage. She leaned in close, a cloud of her bubble gum breath engulfing Dick’s head. “This could be a trap,” she whispered.

Dick shook his head. He half turned to Amy and said, “She’s too hurt, too scared. She knows if she tries anything, she gets a bullet to the brain.”

Amy squeezed Dick’s shoulder. “What if she doesn’t care?”

Dick tried to ignore his co-host’s words and focus on following the girl. She led them through one turn after another, clicking as she went, moving with confidence despite her injury. Randall was huffing and puffing at the rear, struggling to keep the light on the girl. She was at home here, used to moving through the darkness, familiar with every turn and twist in the passages. Where Dick found himself slipping on puddles of seeping water or stubbing his toes on rocky outcroppings, the girl dodged around obstacles without effort. This was her home. Here, he was the intruder.

Clickclickclick
.

The girl ducked inside a short tunnel, and Dick managed to bang the top of his head against the rock before he could follow. He heard Amy and Randall struggling behind him, grunting and cursing as they tried to get into the tunnel. The light from Randall’s camera was useless here, blocked by Amy and Dick’s body so it shed no light past them at all. Even Dick’s headlamp only shone far enough ahead to show him his next few steps before it, too, was blocked by the body of their captive guide.

Clickclickclick.

Tickticktick.

Dick’s stomach dropped. That sound hadn’t come from the girl ahead of him. Its echoes had come from somewhere
behind
them.

Tickticktick.

The girl dropped into the darkness ahead of Dick, vanishing as if she’d been swallowed by the floor. He slowed, afraid of running into a trap, nervous sweat pouring down his back. He could feel something behind them, hunting them.

Tickticktick.

Randall shouted in surprise, and Amy crashed into Dick’s back. He braced himself, trying not to be thrown forward into whatever hole the girl had dropped into. Amy was screaming, shoving at his back even as he screamed back for her to stop, just stop, so he could find out what was ahead of them.

Tickticktick.

A heavier impact drove Amy forward, shoving Dick off his feet. The tunnel sloped away at a steep angle, and he rolled down it, elbows and knees smacking off the stony floor as he curled into a ball to avoid a skull-crushing landing. He bounced hard at the end of the slope and flopped onto his back, spreadeagled.

Dick scrambled back to his feet, and his headlamp stabbed at the darkness. Pale bodies fled from the light, darting all around him. There had to be close to fifty of them, all turning to stare at Dick and his crew.