by H. P. Bayne
“I’m not big on interviews,” Sully said.
She squeezed his arm and tucked herself up against him. “Please? You’d be brilliant.”
Ian brushed past, slowing enough to speak to Leanna. “If they’re going to be here, they need to agree to proper introductions and interviews. I’m not having them lumbering around without letting our fans know who they are. Absolutely no choice in the matter.” He cast a disapproving eye over Sully and Dez. “Apparently.”
Dez pressed forward, all but running up Sully’s back to snap at Ian. “You do appreciate this isn’t a game, right? These are real people, and they’re not in here because they stole a few cookies from grandma. You’re talking about violent men. They won’t appreciate you disrespecting them.”
Ian winked. “Oh, we’re counting on it.”
Sully guessed at the expression on Dez’s face when Ian turned abruptly and speed-walked the rest of the way into the prison’s main area.
“Ignore him,” Leanna said. “I do.”
“He’s not lying though,” Sully said. “Fact is, that’s what you guys do. You get ghosts riled up.”
She stopped, forcing Sully to a halt as well given his arm was still hooked by hers. “I know we probably don’t do things your way, so I can appreciate your concern. But here’s how we view things: there’s a whole world of people out there who either don’t believe or who desperately want to believe in the afterlife. We’ve all lost people we love, Sully. We’re taught by religion to believe in something beyond this life, but that’s all it is in the end—belief. We want people to be able to do more than believe. We want to prove to them it’s real. Think how comforting it would be to everyone out there if they could glimpse only a portion of what you’re able to see. People wouldn’t have to simply hope they’ll see their loved ones again; they’d know they’re right there waiting for them.”
She paused to clasp his other arm with her free hand. “Now, I know what we do probably seems awful, provoking the dead this way, but there’s a reason. Just like with the living, emotion sparks action. If ghosts are angry or upset, there’s a far greater chance they’ll interact with us and do something we can catch on camera. Do you see?”
Sully raised a brow. “And you’re telling me none of this is done to draw more viewers to your show?”
Leanna quirked one side of her mouth. “Of course that’s a part of the reason. But it’s not the only reason.” She gave his arms a squeeze and released him. “That’s all I need you to know.”
He caught her arm before she could walk away. “Will you do one thing? If I tell you to stay out of Hell’s Gate, will you listen?”
The smile turned apologetic. “You know we can’t do that. Hell’s Gate is where the worst of the activity is centred, after all.”
Leanna talked over his attempted argument as she led them onto the prison’s main floor. “We’ve got a locked-off camera monitoring the death row walkway right outside Hell’s Gate. We’ve got another one on the stairs leading up to Death Row and another down in the solitary confinement area. The rest of the camera work will be handled by Ian, Roy and me using hand-helds. I obviously can’t tell you what to do or where to go, but I’d very much appreciate it if you’d agree to accompany us on an initial walkthrough on camera and join us on some of the vigils once we turn the lights off.”
“Is it necessary to do this in the dark?” Dez asked. He’d growled the question. Sully knew him well enough to hear the anxiety underpinning the question.
“Not really. It’s for atmosphere. We always do our investigations in full darkness, using only the night vision on the cameras. Our fans expect it.”
Sully cast Dez a quick, encouraging smile, although he was probably equally as nervous.
As they headed across the floor toward the sound-barrier wall, Roy came jogging out through the door.
“Battery drained already,” he said.
Ian appeared at the door, holding it open for Leanna. For the first time since Sully had seen him, he wore a huge, genuine grin. “Isn’t this great? The spirits are already circling. I can feel it!”
They were circling, all right. Ian had a whole host of pissed-off spirits hovering around him, each looking like murdering Ian was at the top of their to-do list tonight. And these were only the ghosts Sully could see. Unquestionably, Ian had also managed to annoy the ones who hadn’t been homicide victims.
“Come on,” Ian said with a jut of his chin toward Leanna. “We were about to get started.” He held up a small hand-held video camera. “I’ve got yours here. Still plenty of juice in the battery.”
Ed and Kevin stood together at the base of the metal staircase, Ed clearly anxious and Kevin all but bouncing with excitement. Leanna glanced between the two of them and Dez and Sully. “Listen, to make this less complicated, we’ll have Kevin on air explaining the history of the prison and the reasoning for having Sully and Dez brought in. After that, we’ll grab some B-roll of everyone during the walkthrough. Sully, I want you to point out anything you see—once we start rolling, of course.”
Sully took another look around. No fewer than seven spirits glowered at him. “That might take a while.”
Leanna clapped her hands together and gave a laugh. “Brilliant! I love it.”
Ian was no happier about the suggestion. He leaned toward Leanna as if to speak quietly though the words came out plenty loud enough for them all to hear.
“That’s my role. I do the psychic walkthrough.”
She spoke through gritted teeth. “We have a guest psychic, dear. Other shows do it.”
He likewise gritted his teeth. “Still my job, dear.”
Sully dropped his head, both trying to avoid the continued glares from the dead prisoners and hoping they’d see he wasn’t a willing traveller on this excursion into madness. He had enough to contend with upstairs on death row. Last thing he wanted was to have to go toe-to-toe with these others as well—or with Ian, for that matter.
He wasn’t sure what had been decided when Ian and Leanna finally stopped the stare-down, but Sully guessed it was in Ian’s favour given the scowl was gone.
“Let’s do Kevin’s interview now,” he suggested. “I’ll need absolute silence from everyone else here.”
Immediately, one of the ghosts next to Ian started shrieking in his ear. Thanks to the quirk in his abilities, Sully couldn’t hear it. Clearly, Ian didn’t hear the ghost either, although he did reach up to scratch at the ear in question.
Sully glanced at Dez and tweaked a thumb toward the sound-barrier door. Dez gave an enthusiastic nod of the head.
“We’re going to take a quick look around on our own,” Dez said. “What time do you need us back?”
Leanna checked her watch. “Give us about twenty minutes. Wait outside the barrier door when you’re back, and I’ll come out and get you.”
Dez hightailed it out before Sully. As they passed through, Roy came jogging toward them from the hallway, battery packs in his hands. He raised his brows, offered a small smile and rushed through the door as Dez held it.
“Roy!” Ian exclaimed. “What kept you? We’re behind schedule.”
Sully closed the door, grateful to seal in the nonsense.
Dez wasted no time. “I don’t believe these people. I’ve seen some arrogant, self-righteous, pompous assholes in my life, but Ian Rogers—he puts nearly everyone to shame.”
“He’s something, all right,” Sully said. “One thing I will say: if he wants to do the psychic walkthrough, more power to him.”
“Psychic walkthrough, my ass. That guy’s no more psychic than I am.”
“I won’t argue. He’s got multiple pissed-off ghosts circling him right now, and he didn’t clue in to a single one, best I could tell.”
Dez shook his head. Then he eyed Sully and raised his brows. “You know, if we run now, we could make it to the vehicle and be home well before bedtime.”
Sully chuckled and nudged Dez. “Don’t tempt me.”
But reality and fantasy stood miles apart. No way Sully could leave now—particularly with the crew about to heat things up in here.
For his part, Sully decided if he wanted a quiet moment with any of the ghosts, this might be his last chance.
He plucked at Dez’s sleeve to get him to follow. “Come on. There’s someone I want to talk to.”
Sully took them down the stairs leading to the basement, turning to the right where the laundry room stood.
Ed and Kevin had replaced whatever existed here previously with new industrial-sized machines, allowing them to wash a significant amount of linen and towels at once.
Sully took a few steps into the room and sought out the two ghosts he’d seen the other day. One was along the wall to the right, running back and forth over and over and over, face contorted in terror. That he still believed himself to be fleeing his killers seemed obvious; that he’d been driven mad by his confinement here more obvious still.
Sully wouldn’t get a straight answer out of him.
The one in the corner seemed his best bet.
Covered head to toe in blood, he’d clearly been the victim of a vicious stabbing. Something about his clothing struck Sully as old-fashioned prison garb, a sort of grey-coloured uniform rather than the sweatshirts and green pants he’d seen on the ones in general population upstairs or the bright orange of those on death row.
The man in the corner, Sully guessed, had been here a long time. Long enough to have seen a lot.
One of his eyes had been reduced to pulp during the attack on him, but the other fixed on Sully and held. Sully bit back his uncertainty and took a few steps toward the spirit.
He stopped before reaching him, leaving a bit of distance between them. “My name is Sullivan Gray. I mean you no disrespect by coming here, even if others do. I want to apologize in advance for the people you’re likely going to encounter in a while. They have nothing to do with me. There’s something I’m hoping to ask you about. Whether you answer, of course, is up to you. Is it all right if I ask?”
The ghost gave him the one-eyed stare for another long moment. At last he nodded slowly.
Sully provided a little additional needed explanation. “I can’t hear anything you might try to say, but I can see you.” He took a breath before saying the next part. He hated alerting ghosts to the fact they could communicate through touch. The images they showed him often made it feel like he was riding inside their bodies during their last moments on earth. He’d already experienced firsthand far more homicides than he cared to think about.
As awful as it was, communication was necessary.
“We can communicate, but not in the usual way. If you touch me, I’ll be able to see things you want to show me. I need to ask one thing, though: please, don’t show me your death, okay?”
He waited. No nod. With nothing to do but hope for the best, Sully carried on.
“You’ve been here a long time, I think. You’ve obviously seen a lot. There’s a spirit here, not a prisoner. A guard. Do you know who I mean?”
He thought the good eye flashed open, though it was difficult to tell given the amount of blood on the surrounding face.
“I think some of you stay here out of choice, because you’re afraid of what comes in the next life. But I think others stay because they have no choice—because the guard gives them no choice. Am I right?”
This time, a slow nod.
“Is that why you stay?”
Another nod.
Sully took a step closer. “I’m here to end it. One way or another, I’m going to make him go away tonight. You’ll be free to leave.”
The man’s mouth had been badly cut on one side, but the other twitched a little. A smile. Tiny but definitely there.
“You’ve seen things,” Sully continued. “Do you know how he keeps you here? How is it he has that sort of power?”
They’d reached the point of being unable to correspond in nods or head shakes. Sully gritted his teeth and took the last few steps toward the ghost.
Then, drawing what strength he could from Dez’s nearby presence, he extended his hand toward the prisoner.
16
The dead man met his touch.
Sully’s world disappeared and a new one exploded behind his eyes.
He was no longer himself but the dead inmate, standing in his corner, looking out. Life went on in super-fast speed, laundry days and secret meetings between inmates and chats between guards and, worst of all, so many assaults he lost count. Some were horrific, so horrific they made the man’s own death appear a blessing in comparison.
Some—including the most vicious—involved inmates only. The pacing ghost was born of such an assault, his life snuffed out by several different inmates as he ran between them begging for mercy that wouldn’t come.
Other assaults were doled out by the guards. The ghost in the corner had watched these, too, including those meted out by a tall, solidly built officer with a bald head and a sneer carved by the devil himself. He’d taken pleasure in the cries of his victims and had sometimes needed to be pulled away by other guards. Other times, he’d order them away so they couldn’t interfere.
Time flitted past. Assaults continued, rarely involving guards anymore. And yet, the guard—Coving—would come. No longer in human form but spirit, he would reach for the assailants as if to either imbue them with added power or to take some of their rage and power into himself.
He didn’t seem to see the man in the corner. Why, the man didn’t know. Perhaps a trick of time, the fact he’d lived and died long before Coving ever set foot inside this prison. Regardless, Coving controlled the place and everyone inside.
The man in the corner had stayed for years because he feared the fires of hell. Once Coving came, the man knew he’d made the wrong choice. Hell wasn’t someplace else. Hell was here, and Coving was the devil incarnate.
The vision ended, leaving Sully standing there, facing the man in the corner, Dez’s hands on him as if prepared to either prop him up or haul him away.
“It’s okay, Dez,” Sully said. “It’s over.”
“What did you see?”
Sully paused his reply, giving the man in the corner a nod of thanks. Then he turned to face Dez. “Coving draws his power from others, kind of like I can. He feeds off rage and violence. It makes him stronger.”
Dez frowned. “Bloody hell. A prison’s got to be a smorgasbord for someone like that.” Then his eyes widened. “Jesus, Sull, those people upstairs are about to get everything riled up in here. Which means…” He trailed off.
Sully finished where he’d left off. “As strong as Coving is already, he’s about to become even worse.”
17
They dragged themselves back slowly, drawing out the inevitable. By the time they returned to the crew, they were wrapping up Kevin’s interview.
Ed drew the two of them into a corner as Kevin and the crew fussed with removing his lapel mike.
“He’s very excited about this,” Ed said. “I’d been trying to think up a way to coax him into leaving, but there’s no way it’ll happen now.”
Sully peered back toward the crew. The same ghosts were moving around restlessly, their annoyance clear. They weren’t happy about this intrusion, and they wouldn’t be any happier once the place opened as a hostel.
“What do you see?” Ed asked.
Sully turned back toward him. “What?”
“You were looking at something. What did you see?”
“The ghosts. They’re annoyed.”
Ed made a slight wringing motion with his hands. “I was worried about this. We’re going to make this worse. What’s going to happen once we open?”
“I promised you I’d get rid of the violent ones, and I will.”
“What about the others?”
Sully smiled. “They’re not happy about it, but they’re basically powerless. Listen, if people choose to remain on this level rather than crossing over, they need to learn to suck
it up and share the space. The living have a right to be in and use this world. The dead don’t. This isn’t their place anymore. Don’t look at it like you sharing the space with them. Think of it as you allowing them to stay in your place, rent-free. If they choose to stay and take advantage, the least they can do is follow the rules. If they don’t, call me back.”
Ed raised his brows. “I’ve never heard it explained that way before. It makes a lot of sense, actually.”
“To be honest,” Dez said, “I wouldn’t count on this bunch obeying your rules or anyone else’s. They’re in prison for a reason. But like Sully said, we can always come back if you need us again.”
Ed gave a grateful smile. “Thank you. Knowing that makes me feel a little better.” He cast another doubtful glance at the crew. “A difficult trick to pull off given current circumstances.”
“Are you boys ready to get started?” Leanna called to them.
Dez rolled his eyes before turning. “I guess so, yeah.”
“I’ll be in the office with Kevin if you need anything,” Ed said. “Thank you again for doing this. I know it must be very frustrating for you.”
That wasn’t half of it, Sully thought, but he kept the words to himself.
Kevin shuffled over to Ed with a frown as Ed made his way toward the door leading from this side of the sound barrier.
“I want to stay,” Kevin mumbled.
Ed patted him on the shoulder. “You’ll see it when it airs. Come on.”
He cast Sully and Dez a final glance over his shoulder as he led Kevin away. Dez nudged Sully with an elbow before heading for the crew.
A moment later, the lights went out, plunging the group into darkness. Sully felt Dez jump, but the situation didn’t seem at all unexpected to the crew.
“We asked Kevin to get the lights for us,” Leanna explained. “We’re going to do a full walkthrough now, then start the vigils and other stuff.”
Sully wasn’t sure what she meant by “other stuff,” and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.