End of the Road: An anthology

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End of the Road: An anthology Page 6

by Wendy Dranfield


  Daniel also offers to help. ‘I can put you in contact with people. You wouldn’t be doing it alone.’

  I can’t look them in the eye. I’ve never been offered a way out before. I’ve never sought one. How did he do this? How did he make it feel normal? My stomach flips with the possibility of change. The tears come back and my body jerks with emotion as I let everything out. The old woman comes over and hands me a pack of tissues from her pharmacy bag and then wraps her warm hands around my cold ones. We all find ourselves sitting together on one side of the carriage, huddled for warmth and comfort, and silently thinking things through.

  Then, just as suddenly as it stopped, the lights come back on and the train starts again, with a large jolt. It hesitantly glides towards its final destination. We each stand up and watch through the windows as the carriage crawls forwards. Eventually, we see the South Ferry platform approach. I notice some police officers and paramedics waiting on the platform to see if anyone needs assistance. It seems too good to be true. And it is. There, next to one of the police officers, is my husband. He’s come to check my alibi. Even though my story is true, I’ll still pay for making him feel stupid in the restaurant. I look back at my fellow travellers and I can tell they’ve spotted him. Their eyes are filled with anger, but I also spot uncertainty. Uncertainty about what I will do and whether I should do it. At least that’s how I’m feeling. I turn back to face the platform. The carriage doors open in front of me. I look first at my husband, and then at the officer next to him. They’re both looking at me. I wonder how easy it would be for me to walk up to the officer instead of my husband. I realise with terror that it’s time to decide whether or not I really do hate the inevitability of my life.

  I step onto the platform.

  Shiver

  The rain damaged poster was what interrupted my day dreaming and stopped me in my aimless wandering.

  ‘Paranormal investigation at the City Mission, Friday at 8pm. Free entry! Come and find spirits with lead investigator Jack Logan and his psychic sidekick, Dave Stewart. One night only.’

  It’s Friday today and the City Mission is just at the other end of the street I’m on, which I can see now has a poster on every tree. The Mission has been closed down ever since I was a kid. We used to mess around in there and pretend we saw ghosts. We even made our own Ouija board at one point. Naturally we tricked each other into believing none of us were moving the planchette. No-one knows who owns the building now but the Auction sign has been up for years. I often wondered why no-one turned it into a convenience store. I look up at the clouds while I think about whether to check out the investigation or not. It’s drizzling and almost fully dark, but it’s still quite mild considering summer’s long gone. The investigation’s due to start shortly. Maybe it’s not safe for a young woman to go into an abandoned building on her own to meet self-proclaimed ghost hunters, it could be a way of trapping naïve women, but seeing as I’ve got nothing else to do I decide to check it out. I’ve often wondered whether paranormal investigators and psychics are for real.

  The Mission sits on the corner plot. It’s a ghost hunter’s ideal location with broken windows, weeds eating into the exterior and rotten wood everywhere. I can see some flashlights shaking around inside but for all I know that could be homeless people hiding from the rainy night. I’ll just pop my head in to see if it looks legit before I decide whether or not to stay. I creep up the front steps towards the dark open doorway and listen out for voices. I can hear a muffled male voice but I can’t see anyone without entering into the first room, to the right of the doorway. I slowly tiptoe inside the room and it takes a few seconds for my eyes to adjust to the new layer of darkness. I can sense other people nearby so I should probably announce myself.

  ‘Can I join you?’

  ‘Everyone Ssssshhh! I need you to work with me on this so that we don’t pick up each other’s movements on our digital recorders. Wait, can anyone feel that?’

  The person talking puts his flashlight on and shines it across everyone else’s faces. There are only six of us altogether. Everyone looks slightly bemused except for the man with the flashlight. I’m guessing he’s the lead investigator, Jack Logan. He seems very domineering just from his dramatic body language.

  ‘The hairs on my arms have stood up, I can feel some intense energy.’

  ‘Yeah I feel really cold,’ says the man to his left. He’s not wearing a jumper or a jacket so it really isn’t surprising that he feels cold inside a dilapidated building on an autumnal night.

  ‘You’re absolutely right Dave, my EMF detector is showing a temperature drop over here. It’s down by one, no wait, two degrees. Oh my God, this is amazing to have some activity so soon!’

  He’s so easily excitable. One of the women to his right is filming him. I bet he’s got a YouTube page or something and he’s trying to get more hits. I don’t feel any different to when I was outside so there’s definitely no change in temperature, it’s all for the camera.

  ‘Come on everyone,’ says Jack. ‘Let’s try the back room, there are all kinds of reported deaths in there. Like when just last year a young boy was found dead in the corner under a pile of leaves. Turns out he’d been tortured by his high school counsellor.’

  I let the woman with the camera go ahead of me so that I’m at the rear of the group and can bail at any time without anyone noticing. I also don’t have a light with me so I can follow their flashlights more easily from behind them. We shuffle into a big open space and try to look around us. Unconsciously we form a circle, which Jack steps inside.

  ‘Okay, so I’m going to try a session on the spirit box, let’s see if any voices come through. You all have to be absolutely silent for this in case we miss someone trying to communicate with us. I’ll ask the questions. Okay?’

  Everyone mumbles in agreement. I’ve seen enough paranormal investigation shows in my time to know what a spirit box is, but I’m intrigued to see it in action. When he switches it on it’s so loud that it makes me jump. The harsh loud white noise and sound of it sweeping all the radio stations pierces my head. It makes me wince and take an unexpected step backwards. This is worse than nails down a chalk board. I’m going to have to leave if he’s going to use this all night. I look at the others to see if they’re irritated by the noise too but their faces are in shadows. I massage my forehead and close my eyes for a few seconds.

  ‘Are there any spirits here who want to communicate with us? Speak into this device in my hand,’ he has to shout to be heard over the spirit box.

  If tonight doesn’t give me a migraine, nothing will. Still, eager to be the one to hear something, we all wait with baited breath. There are snippets of voices over the sound of the spirit box but nothing that sounds coherent. It just sounds like what it is; someone scanning through lots of radio stations without stopping. Now my eyes have adjusted better, and Jack’s flashlight is pointing to the ground, I look around the other faces that make up the circle. The woman holding the camera looks bored. She’s probably Jack’s girlfriend and has to film him every weekend at a different location. She’s young and attractive with bright red hair and I suspect she could do better than wasting her time with him, although he’s not unattractive himself. The man next to her is probably in his forties. He’s bald with a big beard and an extra-large black t-shirt with scary death faces on. He looks deadly serious, like it’s his life’s mission to hear a voice come through the spirit box. The other two people are a young couple. I know that because they’re holding hands. They look like Goths to me. They’re both dressed all in black and she has blood red lipstick and nail varnish and very heavy eye make-up, all set on a backdrop of white foundation. The movie The Grudge springs to mind when I look at her. All of a sudden, bald man spins around to the window behind him.

  ‘What was that? Jack, did you hear that?’

  ‘Totally! Oh my God, it sounded like a woman crying.’

  ‘Yeah that’s what I heard too. Keep asking questions Jac
k!’

  It’s like they’re acting. The bald man must be Jack’s ‘psychic sidekick’ Dave something, as advertised on the posters outside.

  ‘Did you die here?’ Jack asks the building.

  I take a few steps sideways as I crane my head to look around the room properly.

  ‘I feel really dizzy,’ says the female Goth

  ‘That’s good! That means there’s something here. Dave, can you sense anyone?’

  ‘I can feel a feminine energy.’

  Well there are two women here, duh.

  ‘And I can sense confusion and sadness. The hair on my arms is standing up but not because I’m scared, more because I’m sad.’

  I can’t help but laugh. These two are something else. I wish I was filming this myself.

  ‘Okay, good,’ says Jack. ‘I’ve had my digital recorder taping this whole time so I’ll play that back shortly to see if we captured any EVP’s. But before I do, let’s go to the garage outside, apparently that’s where two people have reported seeing a full bodied apparition recently. Follow me everyone.’

  I linger behind as they go. I’m not sure why, as I should probably just leave now I know this is just two amateurs and a bunch of Goths. I just don’t want to go to the garage. I’m not easily scared but I must admit I’m feeling a bit odd right now. My stomach feels heavy, as if I’m dreading a job interview, but I can’t understand why. The others, and their flashlights, have gone out of sight and standing here on my own is making me feel vulnerable. It must be the size of the room and the darkness. I force myself to get back to the group, feeling that there’s safety in numbers. How ridiculous, I don’t even believe in ghosts! It’s still mild outside as I follow their lights to the open garage. As I approach the entrance, I’m overcome with dizziness so strong I expect to pass out. I weaken as I go through the garage doors and as soon as I step on the wooden floor, an almighty shiver runs through every inch of my body from head to toe. I groan involuntarily and then shudder as I try to shake it off. The group don’t notice because Jack is exclaiming about something again.

  ‘Oh my God, they were definitely footsteps! And can you feel the change to the energy of the room?’

  Only Dave agrees, but the Goth girl is looking scared. My mouth feels a bit numb, like I couldn’t talk if I wanted to, not without sounding drugged anyway, like after you have an injection at the dentist. I check out what I can see of the garage and get a really strong sense of déjà vu. I must have been in this bit as a kid. Although it’s clearly been empty for a long time, there are none of the cobwebs and creepy crawlies you’d expect. There are lots of discarded paint tins and various tools scattered around the floor, and in one corner there is an old newspaper that’s been used to cover a damp patch. It looks like someone’s been here recently. I hate to think that a homeless person might be using this horrible place as somewhere to sleep at night. I just want to get out of here, it’s disturbing. The hairs on my arms are standing up.

  ‘Okay, everything appears to have quietened down so now’s a good time to review the audio on my digital recorder. Everyone huddle close to me so we can all hear it.’

  We all take just one step closer to Jack as he uses his flashlight to set his recorder to play from the start.

  ‘Dude, it just got really cold in here,’ says the Goth girl’s boyfriend. He puts his arms around the girl as they crane their necks to listen to the recording. I’m stood right next to him and I don’t feel a change in temperature. Jack hits play. It starts with him marking the recorder to say they’ve just entered the Mission. This was just before I arrived. He spends a few moments explaining what everything in his equipment is for and what EVP stands for. Then he asks a few questions to the room and asks the spirits to join him, but he gets no responses. After a few seconds we listen to my hesitant approach and entry to the room, followed by me asking, ‘Can I join you?’

  ‘Oh my God! Did you all just hear that?!’

  Jack literally jumps backwards, forcing us all to move, as he gets overexcited by my arrival.

  ‘Did you all just hear those footsteps and then a female voice?’

  The Goth girl whimpers as her boyfriend lets out a big exaggerated sigh, ‘I can’t believe it! That was a woman’s voice!’

  I laugh and roll my eyes. I want to tell them they’re being crazy and that it was just me arriving, but for some reason I can’t find the words. Jack plays the same bit again, and again everyone reacts to it.

  ‘Can we go now Josh? I don’t wanna be here anymore, this shit just got serious.’

  ‘No way! Things are just getting interesting!’

  Dave pipes up, ‘This is the female presence I felt earlier. She’s been following us around since we got here but I didn’t want to scare anyone.’

  Is he kidding? Dave and his sidekick are here precisely to scare everyone, that’s what they do!

  ‘Come on, let’s listen to see if there’s anything else on here,’ says Jack. He speeds through the spirit box session as it’s so loud on the digital recorder that we wouldn’t be able to hear anything on the recording over the white noise. After Dave announces he feels a woman’s presence and he feels sad, my mocking laugh is picked up on the recorder. I remember laughing so I know it’s me. But they want to believe it’s a spirit instead.

  ‘A laugh! Did you guys hear that?!’ He spins around the group, looking for validation in everyone’s eyes. I’m starting to get annoyed with him now. He’s such an idiot.

  ‘Whoa, the energy in here is starting to change again. I don’t feel too good.’

  ‘She laughed at the exact time I said I feel a sadness. Maybe she’s mocking me. Or maybe it’s demonic?’ says Dave.

  ‘No, don’t say that! Josh I wanna go. Please?!’

  ‘Don’t be scared,’ say Jack. ‘They can’t hurt us unless we let them.’

  What a douchebag. They can’t hurt us because they don’t exist. I’m starting to feel weak again, like I really need to sit down. Jack hits play on the recorder again and after we hear them all trundle into the garage, my approaching footsteps can be heard.

  ‘Oh my God, it followed us in here. Dave, is someone with us right now?’

  Why can’t I speak? I want to yell at them that they’re being stupid and everything they’ve heard was me! But they’re ignoring me. Thinking back, they haven’t acknowledged me at all night, not even when I arrived. My heart sinks in my chest. What if they’re the spirits and they can’t see me, like that film with Nicole Kidman? No, that’s ridiculous. I reach for Jack’s flashlight and turn it off to try and get his attention.

  ‘Oh my God! It’s drained the power from my batteries! This is great; spirit, use the battery energy to manifest yourself! There is definitely something in here with us right now people. I’m going to start recording again to capture this. Are you getting all this on camera Toni?’

  Toni looks like she’s about to pass out but nods affirmative, ‘Put the spirit box back on Jack.’

  That awful sound pierces my skull once more and makes me want to tear my brain out of my head. Goth girl screams and clings to Josh for dear life. I hear Dave gulp. I’m so confused. What the fuck is going on here? I think it’s time to go. I turn around to head out the garage doors, but I hesitate. I don’t want to cross over into the outside because I feel like I’ll get the whole body shudder again, and that was unpleasant. I look down at the ground and try to ignore the commotion behind me.

  ‘I just saw a black mist!’

  ‘Josh, shut up! You’re scaring me.’

  Something weird is happening. The floor is disappearing before my eyes and the ground underneath is becoming visible. There’s a black bin bag down there. There’s something in that bin bag. Oh my God. No. Just as the ground disappeared, the bin bag reveals what it is storing. I suddenly find my voice as I spin around and scream into the faces of the group.

  ‘Help me!’

  Jack’s back-up flashlight flickers on and off several times. My scream is heard thro
ugh the spirit box. It sounds so distant, but audible.

  ‘She needs help Jack, we need to help her pass over,’ says Dave.

  I run at Dave to shut him up. I can’t hear this right now.

  He screams as I approach him, ‘I’m being attacked!’

  In an effort to avoid what is attacking him, he dives onto the ground where my grave is. The weight of his oversized body breaks two of the rotten wooden floor boards, which were only recently disturbed when my body was dumped.

  ‘That smell is rancid!’ moans Jack.

  Goth girl and boy cover their faces with their scarves, and Dave does a funny horizontal dance in his effort to get away from the area where the smell is coming from as soon as humanly possible.

  ‘There’s something down there you guys. We need to get out of here!’

  In seconds they all leg it passed me and leave the garage behind. There’s nothing left for me to do but sit down and think. I can see my face through the bag, even though they couldn’t. How did this happen? When did this happen? I try to remember what I was doing earlier today but I can’t. There wasn’t any earlier today. I was just wandering when I stumbled across the poster. I can’t even remember where I was wandering to or from. Is this limbo? Is this purgatory?

  * * *

  I don’t know how long I’ve been sat here but eventually the police turn up. The group must have phoned it in. I can’t smell anything but it must’ve been bad to call the cops. They have better flashlights than Jack. Two men dressed in suits carefully enter the garage and pass their lights over me and the interior. They don’t react to me. That is, they don’t see me sat here, but they react to the smell. They go back out and ask for masks. Then they get some uniformed rookies to start pulling up the rest of the floorboards near the doorway.

  * * *

  I watch as they take my body away from the garage. As they were bagging me up in an official Police body bag rather than the make do bin liner I was in, I noticed that along with the bruised marks around my neck, there was a neck tie. A man’s tie. Blue. I recognise it.

 

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