The Realms of the Dead (18 page)

Procuring an item that had belonged to Nodens required a bit of creative thinking. When the man had been recruited as a Sleeper, he'd come to The Institute with nothing more than the hospital gown covering his body. Though Chuck had been given no background information about his new partner, he knew the man had been married; when Nodens had first been wheeled in, Chuck had noticed that the skin encircling the base of his ring finger was not as dark as the rest of his hand. However, the wedding band that had kept this strip of flesh from tanning—as well as any other personal effects—had been claimed by surviving relatives when the terminally ill man had allegedly passed away at the hospital. Even the hospital gown had been incinerated, quickly being replaced by The Institute's own disposable ones.

You can't get much more anonymous than that,
Chuck thought as he watched the digital display inside the elevator go through the alphabet. When it reached Level L, a bell chimed and the doors swished open, flooding the enclosed space with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the perpetual clicking of administrative assistants at their keyboards.

Ever since he was a child, Chuck had loved puzzles. The logic required, the way they sometimes forced him to look at problems from different perspectives, and the challenges they presented: Every step of the process was as rewarding to him as hitting a home run was to other boys his age. The best part, however, had always been the euphoria that accompanied a correct solution; pride in a job well done and a personal sense of accomplishment were a combination that was almost intoxicating and it was this natural high that kept him coming back to the brainteasers time and time again.

This was also why Chuck whistled a nameless tune as he stepped out of the elevator. Beaming smiles at those he passed, he practically skipped down the corridor leading to his office, his steps light and bouncy as his hands jingled change in his hip pockets.

What he toyed with, however, was not the loose quarters and dimes; his fingers rubbed something even smaller, something so incredibly expensive that he'd been required to sign four different requisition forms acknowledging that his pay would be docked should anything happen to it while it was in his possession. Even sealed within a miniature ziplock bag, the object weighed less than a feather and Chuck knew he shouldn't be messing with it at all. The slightest amount of pressure could potentially snap the thing in half, ensuring an extremely fragile lifestyle for years to come. Yet, he couldn't resist.

This was, after all, a brilliant solution to a difficult puzzle. One which he was particularly proud of, for it had demanded that he think far, far outside of the box.

Eager to share his success with Control, Chuck scanned his retina and entered his office only to find that the interior was dark. Light spilled through the open door and he saw Marilee and his partner standing beside a stack of large boxes that had not yet been opened. However they didn't turn to look at him as the door swung shut, plunging the office into a darkness that was almost as complete as The Divide.

“Give your eyes a few minutes to adjust. Marilee's got equipment all over the place.”

Something red flashed in one corner of the office, a small pinprick of light that winked out almost as soon as he registered it. Within a few seconds, there was another flash of crimson, just as tiny and short-lived as the first. This one, however, seemed to originate near the gurgling Buddha fountain.

“What are those?” Chuck asked as he acclimated to the darkness. “Those little lights?”

“Electromagnetic field detectors.” Control's voice moved through the darkness, coming closer to him. Now he understood that his companions weren't being rude when they didn't turn to greet him; they were simply preserving their night vision.

“They're for you guys' benefit. I don't need 'em. They haven't made a machine yet that's as sensitive as
me.
”

Control emerged from the gloom as nothing more than a moving patch of darkness. While Marilee tinkered with something near the stack of crates, she shared with Chuck what the girl had explained in his absence. Apparently, whenever there was any sort of contact with the dead, an electromagnetic field was created. This field acted as a bridge between worlds, allowing energies to flow back and forth.

“When those lights start flashing rapidly,” Control said, “that means the line is open, so to speak. That's how we know that things are about to get interesting.”

Chuck could now make out vague outlines in the dark. His sofa was a hulking silhouette in a sea of shadows and the boxes and crates were perfect cubes of darkness.

“So the lights being off,” he ventured, “does that help these fields form? Is that why you always hear about hauntings and stuff happening at night?”

Marilee giggled in the darkness and though there was no malice in her voice, something about the sound caused a chill to race down Chuck's spine.

“No,” the little girl admitted. “It's just more fun this way.”

The red lights flashed in the darkness again and Chuck, who had a knack for recognizing patterns, realized that they weren't simply winking on and off randomly. There was a delay between the flashes. A very long delay, but a delay nonetheless.

He didn't hear Marilee cross the office, but suddenly she was at his side.

“We're about ready to start, Mr. Grainger. Were you able to find something?”

Chuck's eyes had fully acclimated. Though cloaked in gloom, he could see details that had been previously hidden and he felt secure enough to finally remove the object from his pocket.

“It wasn't easy,” he said as he opened the small plastic bag and carefully handed its contents to the girl. “But I think this should suffice.”

Pinching it between her thumb and forefinger, Marilee scrutinized the circular piece of silicon as Control laughed. “Very clever, buddy. Very clever, indeed.”

“His energy is all over this thing.” Marilee spoke as though within a trance, her voice low and lethargic. “So much that it's almost a part of it. I can
feel
traces of him here. Almost like I was holdin' one of his bones or something. This is amazing. What the heck is it?”

“That,” Chuck explained, “is the recorder chip that was embedded in Nodens's throat lining. It was hardwired into a bundle of nerves because those little zaps of electricity were what powered it. So, yeah…this thing practically was part of him.”

Marilee rubbed the scar along her hairline with her free hand, her fingertip tracing its contours in a way that almost seemed remorseful to Chuck. It was as if the chip implanted in her brain made the girl feel a connection to the Sleeper that he and Control could never understand.

“Let's begin.”

As Marilee led them back across the room, Chuck crossed his arms over his chest and rubbed his forearms briskly. Somehow, it felt colder in the room. He remembered how the temperature had dropped in the room just before Nodens died and his eyes darted to the EMF detectors, half-expecting them to be flashing like mad. However, they remained slow and constant in their rhythm. If something was in the room with them, it was well hidden.

“So what do we do?” His voice trembled and Chuck balked at his own question. He'd faced things within Crossfades that would have driven lesser men insane. He'd personally witnessed the cruelty and brutality one soul could inflict upon others and gazed upon horrors that simply could not exist within the realm of the living.

So why did his heart flutter within his chest? Why did his stomach twist with nervous queasiness?

Why the hell was he so damn afraid?

As Marilee picked up the Spirit Box, Chuck glanced at Control, seeking reassurance in his friend's smile. Her face, however, was tight and pinched. The woman's nostrils flared with each breath and even in the darkness she looked pale.

She feels it, too
.

Marilee's eyes changed. In the darkness, her pupils had been so wide that very little of the irises could be seen. Now, however, they contracted, shrinking down to mere pinholes. At the same time, her body relaxed, as if all her muscles had simultaneously gone limp.

By way of contrast, Chuck was so tense that his own muscles felt as if they'd been seized by cramps. The shadows lurking in the corners of the room seemed blacker than they had moments earlier. Almost as though dark forces gathered there, twisting and writhing as they gnashed at one another with ethereal teeth.

The EMF detectors winked. Still slow. Still steady.

Yet faintly—so faintly it might have been nothing more than his rampant imagination—Chuck thought he heard a rope creak.

Marilee flipped the switch on the Spirit Box and the roar and hiss of white noise assaulted the room, almost as if the wall of static had been waiting to pounce upon its unsuspecting victims.

Was it also his imagination, or had the little girl's complexion changed, too? Her cocoa-colored skin seemed waxen and sallow as she gripped Nodens's chip in her free hand so tightly that her knuckles stood in sharp contrast.

Control had shuffled close enough to him that her shoulder bumped against his own and Chuck fought the urge to seek her hand in the darkness. He felt like a little kid seeking the reassurance of his mother's touch and the hairs on the back of his neck bristled.

Something was creeping up behind him. Something dark and malicious. Something that leered through the veil separating worlds and thirsted for the warmth of his blood.

He was certain of it.

Yet he couldn't force himself to turn and look.

A vein on Marilee's forehead throbbed and she rolled her head slowly as her small body swayed back and forth. With the Spirit Box tucked in her armpit and one hand extending the speaker, she looked like a high-tech voodoo priestess, summoning the dead through an ancient dance.

The static was nearly deafening, the rush of sound almost entirely drowning out the girl's soft voice when she spoke.

“It's coming…”

Chuck couldn't help it. His hand shot out and he gripped Control's palm in his own, squeezing as shivers and shudders passed from one body to another.

“It's coming.”

The red lights on the EMF detectors flashed as though sending frantic messages in semaphore to one another and a high-pitched whine rose and fell through the Spirit Box's static.

Marilee closed her eyes and a smile crept over her face as her body became motionless.

“It's here.”

“Nodens?” Chuck meant the question for the little girl, but she was not the one who answered.

“They said no dreams.” The voice didn't emerge from the static, but rather seemed a part of it; the words buzzed, somehow reminding Chuck of a radio tuner that had been quickly turned, the rapid changes in pitch stringing together into short bursts of syllables. “They lied.”

For some reason, the statement made Chuck's eyes water. He felt as though a well of sadness had opened somewhere deep within him and he squeezed Control's hand as his bottom lip quivered, making his words as shaky as his knees felt.

“I'm sorry, man. I'm
so
sorry.”

Only the hiss of static answered. The trio stood in silence for a moment, Chuck feeling as though he should say something but unable to find the words. It was finally Control who broke the silence.

“Nodens?” she asked hesitantly. “Did…did someone kill you?”

Chuck found himself leaning forward, almost as though being physically closer to the Spirit Box could somehow coax an answer from it.

“Murder.” The reappearance of the dead man's voice caused Chuck's breath to catch in his throat. “Death. Pain. So much pain.”

Each sentence had been separated by several seconds of silence and with each gap, Chuck's heart beat a little more rapidly. Sweat dotted his brow and the air in the room felt heavy, as though it were physically trying to force him to his knees.

“Was it him, Nodens?” Everyone else in the room had ceased to exist for him and Chuck found himself breaking the rule he'd laid out the night before. “Was it Albert Lewis?”

The lights on the EMF detectors fluttered and flickered as static hissed in the darkness.

“Nodens!” Chuck demanded. “Was it Lewis?”

He held his breath as he awaited an answer, mentally cursing the dead man for not being more forthcoming.

“Who did this to you, Nodens? Who the hell killed you?”

“It's coming.”

The EMF detectors flashed so quickly they looked like miniature strobe lights and the static grew louder, even though Marilee had previously said the volume was fixed. Spurts of interference crackled and popped and the atmosphere in the room felt as though it were charged with static electricity. Every hair on Chuck's body prickled and his flesh felt as though it were creeping over his body.

“It…is…coming.”

The whine cutting through the Spirit Box's roar was now so shrill that Chuck's eardrums seemed to quiver and a stabbing pain flared behind his eye, forcing him to cry out.

Chuck, however, wasn't the only one affected by the change in the room. Convulsions wracked Marilee's small body and her face screwed into a grimace, her teeth grinding against one another as spasms twitched her jaw. The little girl flung her head from side to side and her braided pigtails swished through the air.

“Get out, get out, get out!” The girl sounded frantic, the words growing more guttural and adamant with each repetition.

“Chuck…buddy…”

“Get out!”

“We need to stop this. We need to stop this
now
!”

The EMF detector by the fountain exploded with a loud pop and shards of plastic flew through the air, plinking off Buddha's resin sides as the other detector shattered into bits of shrapnel as well.

“Damn it, Chuck!” Control screamed. Plumes of vapor billowed from her mouth as the temperature in the room plummeted. “She wants us to leave for a fucking reason!”