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Authors: Sholly Fisch

Tags: #General, #Fiction, #suspense, #Mystery, #Science Fiction - Adventure, #Ghost stories, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Movie, #Mayors, #Terror, #Haunted places, #Demonology, #Movie novels - gsafd, #Ghost stories - gsafd, #Tv Tie-Ins, #Adventure, #Movie-TV Tie-In - General, #Media Tie-In - General, #Fiction - Science Fiction, #Political candidates, #Science fiction, #Movie or Television Tie-In, #General & Literary Fiction, #Media Tie-In

Ghostbusters The Return (19 page)

BOOK: Ghostbusters The Return
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"Fine, thanks. And you?" said Ray.

"Oh, you know. Can't complain."

"Shouldn't you be on television right now?" asked Winston.

Venkrnan gestured up toward the cameras at the police line. "I think I am, actually. Smile."

"I meant the debate."

"Oh, that. I blew it off. It was getting dull."

A flurry of thoughts flashed through Winston's brain. He thought about the time and effort they'd put into the campaign. He thought about what Venkman's absence during the debate might cost them. Most of all, he thought about how disappointed his mama would be. Then he thought about what she would tell him to do. He shrugged. "Aah, I guess I would've done the same thing."

"In fact, if I recall correctly, you did do the same thing," said Venkman.

Egon pointed at Venkman's proton pack. "And you stopped off to pick up your equipment along the way?"

"Y'know, you guys shouldn't leave the Ectomobile unlocked like that," said Venkman. "I mean, this is New York, after all. Just anybody could come along and walk off with this stuff."

"So I keep hearing," Egon said.

"By the way," Venkman added, "love what you've done with the car. The concrete's a nice touch. Very downtown-exposed-brick-bohemian. "

With a deafening roar, one of the monsters slammed into the top of the overpass.

Venkman turned to look at Ray. "What are you grinning about?

"Nice to have you back," Ray replied.

Venkman returned the grin. "So what's the deal with the geckos?"

"They're obviously some sort of fully corporeal ectoplasmic manifestation," said Egon. "Judging from the water displacement, these aren't insubstantial phantoms or wraiths. They're solid."

"And from the way they keep screaming about Xanthador, it's pretty clear where they came from," Ray added. "But what to do about them? That one's stickier."

"The cops tried bullets," said Winston. "Guess what - it didn't do a whole lot."

"I'm shocked," said Venkman.

"Yeah, but Ray and Egon didn't have much luck with nutrona wands, either," said Winston. "The things are just too powerful."

"So how do we get rid of them?"

"Good question," said Egon. "Technically, Nessie and her family shouldn't even exist."

"Giant sea serpents in the Hudson River?" Venkman shrugged. "Gotta tell ya, it wouldn't surprise me
what's
in that water."

"Besides that," said Ray, "Manifesting solid creatures that big takes major power. We're talking Gozer-level power. Xanthador shouldn't be that strong. Not yet, anyway."

"Xanthador's strength has been growing as he feeds off people's fear. That's why the severity of the incidents has been increasing steadily," said Egon. "But even so, according to the prophecy, he should be a good century away from the kind of power levels it would take to manifest something on this scale."

Approximately one block uptown, one of the smaller creatures whipped its head through a cluster of trees. The Ghostbusters pressed their bodies back against the overpass as one of the trees went hurtling past.

"'Prophecy'? What prophecy?" asked Winston.

Ray reached into his pocket and produced his photocopy of the parchment. He unfolded it and passed the paper to Venkman and Winston. "Here, see? Xanthador's not supposed to hit these kinds of power levels until Saturn aligns with Venus and Mars. And that's not going to happen for another hundred and seventy years."

Venkman studied the drawing with a curious expression.

"What's up?" asked Winston.

"I don't know. It just looks... Familiar."

"From your extensive studies of astronomy? Or a ticktacktoe board?" Egon said dryly.

"No, really. I can't place it, but..." Suddenly, Venkman's eyes lit up. "Wait a minute."

He reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and drew out some papers. He shuffled through them for a moment to find the one he was looking for. "When's the soonest that the planets are supposed to line up that way?"

"One hundred seventy years from now," Egon replied.

"Give or take," Ray added.

"Nope," said Venkman.

"'Nope'?" asked Winston.

"Nope. I can show you a place where it happens five times a day."

"Huh?" said Ray.

Venkman held up Ray's photocopy to display the drawing. Beside it, he held up a brochure with an illustration that showed the three planets in the same position as in the drawing.

"Of course!" said Winston.

"The star show!" said Ray.

Venkrnan nodded. "At the Hayden Planetarium."

Judging from his expression, the reporter was saying something very earnest and intense, but Janine couldn't hear what it was. She had long since turned off the sound on the television in the Ghostbusters' headquarters. There were only so many times she needed to hear about how vast the danger was, and how her "heroic, noble" friends and employers were facing certain death.

Instead, she left the picture on while she continued to pore over the various reference materials, searching for some scrap of information that might help turn the tide. From time to time, she glanced over to see images of the rampaging serpents or - more often  - endless series of talking heads as self-proclaimed "experts" speculated about the danger, possible strategies, and what might happen next.

Maybe it was the stress that came with her concern over the Ghostbusters' safety. Or maybe she had spent so many days with ancient texts that she simply burned out. One way or the other, Janine felt as though she just couldn't bring herself to face another crumbling, yellowed page. So she decided to play a hunch instead, and turned to her computer.

She was clicking her way through the Web site of the New England Genealogical Society when she found what she was looking for.

"Oh, my," she muttered.

"So Xanthador's power is coming from the Hayden Planetarium?" said Winston.

"Not exactly," Egon replied. "Xanthador's power comes from fear. But the planetarium show sets the stage for his ascendance by satisfying the conditions of the prophecy."

Attached to the Museum of Natural History, the Hayden Planetarium had long served as an introduction to astronomy for countless children and adults from the New York area. One of the most popular features of the planetarium was its star shows, in which images of constellations and heavenly bodies were projected over the heads of the audience against the 360° backdrop of an immense, domed ceiling. 

"So if we can stop the show, we should be able to disrupt Xanthador's power," said Ray.

"Theoretically. Even if it fails to disperse his current level of power, it could prevent him from growing any more powerful," said Egon. "Yet, there's also the possibility that it might accomplish nothing other than proving the prophecy wrong."

"Unless anybody's got any better ideas, I'd say it's worth a shot," said Winston.

"That's great, guys. Really," said Venkman, throwing back a thumb to point back over his shoulder. "But don't you think we oughtta do something about these things first?"

As if to emphasize his point, the ground shook as one of the gargantuan serpents lunged forward to strike the far side of the overpass once again.

"If our hypothesis proves to be correct, once we disrupt the star show, these creatures should vanish," said Egon.

"But Peter's right," said Ray. "We can't just let these things run around loose while we head off to the planetarium."

"What do you suggest?" said Egon. "It would take simultaneous ion streams from all four of us just to bind one of the creatures. While we're all busy restraining one creature, we'd be sitting ducks to be devoured by the other two. Besides, even if we could avoid being eaten alive, what would we do with them? They're solid, remember? Ecto-traps won't work, and we have no way to contain them. We can't just stand here holding them forever."

"That's right. They're solid..." Winston said thoughtfully.

"A little too solid," said Ray.

"These things aren't any smarter than alligators, are they?" said Winston.

One of the creatures slammed its head into the overpass once again. "I'm not seeing any candidates for Mensa here," said Venkman.

"Then I've got an idea," said Winston.

Slipping his nutrona wand out of its sheath, Winston walked out into the roadway. From where he stood, he could see all three of the creatures through the short tunnel beneath the overpass.

"Uh, Winston, as your running mate, I'd have to say this is a very bad idea." Venkman turned to Egon. "Does he know what he's doing?"

"Doubtful," said Egon.

"I hope you have a backup candidate lined up for that deputy mayor slot, Peter," said Winston.

"I could," Venkman said with a hint of sarcasm, "but Ray's always been a little soft on the whole crime issue thing."

"Winston!" shouted Egon. "Come back!"

"Nah," said Winston, trying to appear calm despite the cold sweat that was already coating his face and hands. "No problem. I've got it covered.?"

The raised voices seemed to catch the attention of the closest creature. Winston said a quick, silent prayer and took advantage of the opening.

He raised his nutrona wand and fired short bursts at the other two serpents. "Hey! Over here!" he yelled.

"Puny mortal!"
hissed the nearest one.
"Flee in abject horror before the minions of Xanthador!"

"Flee? From you three?" Winston shouted back, incredulous. "Yeah, right! I'm gonna kick your sorry Scottish haggis all the way back to bagpipe land!"

Behind him, he could hear Ray say, "Um... He did hear us when we said traps don't work on these things, right?"

"I sure hope so," Venkman replied.

Winston had the attention of all three monsters now. They eyed him curiously as the more distant ones sailed closer through the water. None of the beasts were attacking yet, but there was no mistaking the air of impending doom that surrounded them.

"Yeah, that's right! I'm talking to you! Y'know, I thought I'd seen some ugly mess come outta that river, but that's like roses compared to you freaks!" He punctuated his speech by striking the creatures with more short bursts from his nutrona wand, alternating among them. The bursts made the monsters wince, but their only real effect seemed to be making them even angrier.

"He's lost his mind," said Egon.

By this point, all three serpents were clustered together around the far side of the overpass. Growling, their heads bobbed back and forth as each of them sized up the proper instant to swallow their minuscule prey.

Winston looked up at them through the opening in the overpass, dwarfed by their sheer scale. It occurred to him that the just the visible parts of the creatures were as tall as the apartment buildings in his neighborhood. Maybe this wasn't such a great idea after all...

No. No time to worry about that. Got to stay focused,
he told himself, pushing the thought out of his mind.

"Man, Xanthador must really be scraping the bottom of the loch with you three!" he shouted. "I wouldn't bother to scrape you off the bottom of my shoe!"

He peppered the three beasts with an extended series of short ion blasts. They roared, more out of rage than pain. Then, as one, they all lunged at Winston with jaws gaping wide.

It was the moment he had been waiting for. He leaped aside, out of the roadway, and kept running, putting as much distance as he could between himself and the creatures as they thrust their heads through the opening beneath the overpass.

Seeing that they had missed, the serpents tried to rear back for another strike. But as they pulled back their heads jammed together and wedged against the ceiling of the tunnel.

The creatures looked startled as, over and over they slid their heads back and forth, trying to free them. But it was no use. Alone, any one of them could have slipped out of the space without much effort. With all three of them jammed together, though, there simply wasn't enough room to maneuver.

The reinforced overpass held. All the trapped creatures could do was roar in helpless fury. Which they did. A lot.

Taking care to stay outside the serpents' considerably shortened reach, the Ghostbusters started to head out of the park.

"Not bad," Venkman told Winston, giving him a slap on the back.

"Just observing the leash laws," said Winston.

"Next stop, Hayden Planetarium," said Egon.

"And the main event," added Ray.

"Smile for your public, boys," said Venkman.

As they reached the street beyond the park, the crowd burst mto cheers and applause.

Egon took a deep breath. Under his breath, he muttered, "So much for the preliminaries. Now for the hard part."

CHAPTER 17

It was only about one mile from the south end of the park to the Museum of Natural History and the Hayden Planetarium. With the front seat of the Ectomobile full of semi-hardened cement, it looked as though the Ghostbusters were going to have to get there on foot. Fortunately, after reining in the serpent trio, it took Venkman less than a minute to coax help out of one of the police officers stationed on crowd control.

Now, they were speeding through the streets of the Upper West Side in a police car with lights flashing and sirens blaring. Ray sat up front with the driver, and the others crowded together in the rear. Even as he drove, the officer was already on the radio, requesting immediate support from a SWAT team, and a cordon around the museum.

"Better ask for a couple of fire trucks and arnbulances too, just in case," said Ray.

"Yeah, okay. Good idea," he decided. He made the call.

Egon watched the scene with wonder. The Ghostbusters' relationship with the police had always been cordial at best. The friendly interactions and level of accommodation they'd experienced over the past few days were a quantum leap forward from what they were used to. He wondered if the relationship would hold up at some point in the future. when they inevitably wound up arrested again.

Winston nudged Venkman. "Maybe we should call the museum, so they can start clearing out the civilians."

With a nod, Venkman reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. As he switched on the power, the phone was already ringing. He winced.

"Your adoring public, I presume?" said Egon.

"Probably Gary and the party boys again," said Venkman. "They've been calling nonstop to find out what's going on."

"So you turned off the power?" said Winston.

"Wouldn't you?"

Egon looked down at the cell phone to read the telephone number that flashed onto its display. "That's not the party. That's our office."

Before Venkman could react, he snatched the phone from his hand and answered it. "Hello? Janine? Why are you calling on Peter's line?... Right. We had a little difficulty with some cement... No, I'll explain later. What's up?... Yes... " The conversation continued along those lines for another minute or so, until Egon thanked her, broke the connection, and handed the phone back to Venkman.

"Can I do anything else for you?" said Venkman, a little miffed.

Egon didn't seem to notice. "That was Janine," he said, loud enough for Ray to hear him in the front seat. "She was going through seventeenth century genealogical records, trying to identify the exorcist who defeated Xanthador in 1627. Guess whom she found?"

"Pocahontas?" said Venkman.

"Jonathan Goodraven," said Egon.

"Are you serious?" asked Ray.

"Janine says the name seems to match the blurry entry in the diary."

"It can't be the same guy," said Winston.

"Although it would explain his cutting edge fashion sense," said Venkman.

"It's more likely that the present-day Goodraven is the descendant of the historical one," said Egon.

"You think he can tell us how to beat Xanthador?" said Winston.

"Easy enough to find out," said Ray. "Look over there."

The Museum of Natural History loomed up ahead. Police cars were already starting to converge on the site, and barricades were going up. Clouds were gathering and turning dark. The air felt cold and dank. Lightning split the sky. A mass of screaming patrons was pouring out of the museum, toting cameras, maps, and children.

Standing across the street from the museum, as grimly impassive as ever, was the unmistakable figure of Jonathan Goodraven.

"Well at least he doesn't appear to have set the museum on fire," said Egon. "Yet."

The police car pulled up to a nearby curb. With a quick thank-you to their driver, the Ghostbusters poured out of the car and grabbed their equipment from the trunk.

Strapping on his proton pack as he walked, Venkman approached Goodraven with a broad grin. "Johnny. Johnny. Fancy meeting you here. Hey, didn't I hear you got fired?"

Goodraven gave no sign of acknowledging that Venkman even existed. He continued to stare at the entrance to the museum - or, perhaps, the crowds fleeing through it. But then, his deep voice intoned, "My mission depends not upon the whims of mortal men."

As the other Ghostbusters caught up, Ray pushed in front of Venkman to try a more politic approach. "Hi, Mister Goodraven. Ray Stantz. We met the other day."

Goodraven said nothing. His gaze remained fixed on the museum.

Ray continued, undaunted. "I gather that one of your ancestors once faced a demon named Xanthador."

For the first time, Goodraven's face almost registered emotion. He was silent for a moment, then turned his head to look Ray in the eye. "My ancestor."

"Yes, um...the first Jonathan Goodraven?"

Goodraven's eyes narrowed. It seemed to only intensify the fire that burned deep within them. Involuntarily, Ray started to fidget.

"Indeed," said Goodraven, "in eons past, my honored progenitor did do battle with the netherspawn Xanthador. A fearsome creature it was, of great and terrible aspect. Truly, it was unmatched by any other that has walked this mortal plane."

"Oh, dandy," Venkman muttered to Winston. "Well, that sure inspires confidence. I can't wait to hear his halftime speech."

"But your ancestor did defeat him, right?" Ray asked.

"The price of victory was dear, yet, 'tis true. When the final word was writ, 'twas Goodraven who stood alone upon the field of battle. The ancient power of Xanthador was banished once more from the world of men."

"You wouldn't happen to know how he did it, would yout?" asked Winston.

"I am in possession of some small charms and traditions, yes."

Egon looked skeptical. "They don't involve flamethrowers, do they?"

Again, Ray stepped in. "You see," he told Goodraven, "The thing is, we're pretty sure that Xanthador is after something in that building over there. And there's a good chance he's inside right now."

Goodraven closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. "Aye, Xanthador is near. I sense the stygian scent of the Lord of Fear e'en here."

"Well, I was thinking: Considering your knowledge and experience," said Ray, "how would you like to work with us on this one?"

In unison, Egon and Venkman exclaimed,
"What?!"

"You presume much," said Goodraven, with a sneer. "I require no assistance."

"No, I get it. I see what Ray's getting at," said Winston. As he spoke, he looked back and forth between his teammates and Goodraven, trying to convince both sides at the same time. "Listen, judging from everything we've seen so far, Xanthador's not going to give this up without a fight, right? And it's a safe bet that, whatever's he's got going on, he's not alone in there. We can handle the assorted weirdies, but you're the only one who knows how to fight the big guy himself. We can make sure you get up close and personal with Xanthador. Then you can finish him off."

Goodraven mulled it over briefly. "Thy words hold some measure of merit. You propose to deliver me to the seat of Xanthador's power?" He nodded slowly. "Very well. Let us join forces for the present."

Grudgingly. Egon said, "I suppose it makes sense."

"Guess that settles it," said Venkman. He tried to throw an arm around Goodraven's shoulders, but found that he couldn't reach all the way around them. Instead, he settled for clapping Goodraven on the back. "Welcome to the team, Johnny. Let's go see a man about a ghost."

Most of the fleeing crowd had subsided by the time the Ghostbusters and Goodraven climbed the steps that led toward the main entrance to the museum. If any living people remained inside, there probably weren't many of them - a fair number of the museum's security guards had joined the mass exodus.

"Guess we didn't have to bother calling to tell them to evacuate," said Winston.

"There are forces at work here that span millennia, and terrors untold in the history of man," said Goodraven.

"That would explain it, then," said Winston.

Egon kept his PKE meter trained on the museum. "I can't vouch for how old they are, but there are 'forces' in there, all right. If these readings climbed any higher, they'd pass out from lack of oxygen."

As the group neared the entrance, Venkman took the various pamphlets out of his pocket and found a floor map to the museum. He paused for a moment on the steps and studied it. "The planetarium's pretty big. It spans a couple of floors," he said. "But according to this, the entrance will be to our right and down one floor once we get inside the museum."

Ray pulled down a pair of high-tech goggles from the top of his head, and adjusted them to cover his eyes. Ordinarily, he preferred not to wear them - they restricted his peripheral vision, and besides, they made his eyes sweat. But the goggles were useful for particularly tough jobs. Not only did they protect his eyes, but the scopes that protruded from the front of the rig were handy in detecting spectres whose forms lay outside the visible spectrum. If the opposition waiting inside the museum was as formidable as they expected, he and the other Ghostbusters were going to need every advantage they could get.

"Hey, Ghostbusters!" said a gruff voice behind them.

They turned to see a grizzled SWAT commander in a cap and flak jacket, jogging up the steps behind them. He wasn't even winded by the time he reached them.

"Awright," he barked, "I've got my men fanning out around the complex now to cover the exits. Word is, we're letting you go in as the first wave. We'll hold our position for twenty minutes. Then my guys go in."

"With all due respect, we're highly trained scientists specializing in paranormal activity," said Egon. "If we are unable to bring the situation under control, then I fail to see how your - "

Ray broke in before Egon could get them further in trouble. "Twenty minutes should be plenty, sir. Thanks."

The commander gave a grunt that sounded like he was unconvinced. But he walked back down the stairs.

"So, anybody got a plan?" asked Ray.

"Blast anything that moves, get Johnny into the planetarium, kick Xanthador's butt," said Venkman.

"Works for me."

They entered the building together, then looked around the vacant lobby. Apart from the diorama of dinosaur skeletons, there was no sign of life, past or present.

Cautiously, the Ghostbusters fanned out to peer down the hallways that extended down either side. Ray ran his hands along one of the walls and pressed his ear against it to learn whether anything might be lurking inside. Goodraven continued to stand near the entrance, almost eerily still, as his narrowed eyes studied their surroundings.

At first glance, all seemed quiet.

"Nothing yet," said Ray.

"Yeah? So why were all those people screaming?" said Winston.

"Maybe they saw the admission price," Venkman replied.

Egon held his PKE meter upright at arm's length as he checked for ambient psychokinetic activity. "It's close," he said. "Very close."

He started to pass the PKE meter in a slow arc to isolate the source of the activity. But as soon as he began the arc, there was no longer any need for it.

"FOOLlSH MORTALS!"
boomed a voice, echoing off the museum walls and floor.
"YOU HAVE DARED TO INTERFERE IN THE AFFAIRS OF THE ALL-POWERFUL SOVEREIGN OF HORROR! KNEEL BEFORE THE FEARSOME VISAGE OF XANTHADOR! KNEEL IN ABJECT TERROR AND SUBMISSION!

"KNEEL—OR DIE!"

"Up there!" shouted Ray, pointing at the head of the tallest dinosaur.

Sure enough, a small, round demon was perched atop the dinosaur's skull. Without missing a beat, all four Ghostbusters let loose with their nutrona wands. The ion streams shot toward the demon with the speed of light. But the demon was already rolling off the skull and catching on with one hand, swinging down to hang beneath the skull. The streams sailed over him, converging to blow a blackened, smoking hole in the ceiling. Before they could fire a second time, the demon held up his free hand.

"Hey! Whoa! Chill out!" yelled the demon. "I'm only goofin' on you!"

The Ghostbusters hesitated. They looked at each over, confused.

"You're...not Xanthador?" said Winston.

"Nah, not by a long shot." The demon swung itself back up onto his perch on the dinosaur's skull. "The name's Geezil. I just work for the big guy."

As one, the Ghostbusters took aim with their nutrona wands.

Geezil covered his eyes. "Whoa! Hold it! I lust wanna tell you something!" When they still hadn't fired after a second, he peeked down with one eye. "Sheesh, and they say demons have hair-trigger tempers. .."

"What is thy message, demon?" demanded Goodraven, his booming voice reverberating around the room.

Geezil looked toward him as though he hadn't noticed Goodraven standing near the entrance before. A flash of fear crossed his face. "Oh, it's y - you. I - I didn't see..."

"Thy message!"

"Message. Right. Right."

"Amazing what happens when you can make these things burst into flame with your hands," Ray muttered to Egon.

"Anyway," said Geezil, "on behalf of Xanthador, supreme master of panic and almighty liege of anxiety, I offer you one opportunity to escape with your miserable lives. Although you are as mere fleas before the power of Xanthador, foolish persistence may render even a flea into a bothersome nuisance. As penalty for your recurring interference, your very lives are forfeit.

"Yet, all know that Xanthador is ever merciful. Thus, you may save yourselves by becoming this era's first worshippers, for the sight of this realm's defenders in his unholy service shall unnerve the populace and hasten the rise of Xanthador."

"You're kidding," said Venkman.

"Pass," said Winston.

"No," said Egon.

"I don't think so," said Ray.

Geezil shrugged. "Your choice. Guess I'll have to kill you now."

"Oh, yeah?" Ray snapped. "You and what arrny?"

"This one," said Geezil.

Instantly, the dinosaurs' eye sockets glowed red with an unearthly light. The huge skeletons turned their heads toward the Ghostbusters. They would have licked their lips if they still had tongues.

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