“My camera is acting up,” Stan said. “Batteries are draining, and the image is grainy. Gonna have to swap battery packs.” He left the room.
“Did someone kick the bed?” Sterling asked, pressing forward with his camera.
“No one was anywhere near the crib, Sterling. You saw that yourself if you were paying attention.”
“Then maybe—”
“Save it for later. Please. I don’t want to disrupt the connection.”
“EMF is falling.”
“Ms. Wantland,” TJ said, “my battery pack drained, too. I need to swap out.”
“Go ahead. Too much commotion in here now.”
“We definitely had some activity,” Michael said. “Good job!”
“I’m afraid we may have scared it off for the time being. Or shaking the baby rattle may have used all the strength it could muster.”
“My batteries are fine, by the way,” Sterling said, still recording. “I know you’re going to say the drained batteries are a sign a ghost attempted to appear, but mine haven’t been affected.”
“We experienced several signs of supernatural manifestation,” Michael said. “I’ll be interested to see what we recorded.”
“Your batteries are drained now, by the way.” Kimberly turned the camera back to face Sterling. “Hope you have some extras up your sleeve.”
“What?” He spun the screen around. “No way. I just put brand-new batteries in it.”
“I’m sure we have extras if you didn’t get any. Go see TJ.”
She started down the hall but stopped in Drew’s room. She’d had luck in there the previous night. Probably too much to hope for a repeat scenario, but she sat on the bed, closed her eyes, and took deep breaths.
She tuned her senses to other frequencies, like turning the dial of a radio, moving past the static to find the one broadcasting.
No one wanted to talk.
She gripped her crystal and sank further into herself, receptive to anything out of the ordinary. Blocking out the noise of the world around her, she listened. Nothing.
She thought she should feel something residual from last night’s manifestation. She placed her hands against the toddler bed. Come on. Talk to me. While everyone else is busy and distracted. Just us.
Who had shaken the rattle? If Danielle was correct, her grandmother’s cat began appearing during her second pregnancy. The crib was a hot spot. Kimberly had experienced a vision there the first night. And now the rattle tonight. The cat had also been in the toddler’s room. Maybe it wasn’t just the baby. Maybe both children were the target? But why?
She recalled Drew’s crayon-scribble drawing. The boy drew his room, with the cat beside him on the bed and the dark figure to the side. He’d seen both entities, she was sure. Tat. The Dark.
As she sat cross-legged on the miniature bed, dread, hopelessness, and vulnerability overwhelmed her. She found herself in the child’s place, experiencing what he lived through at night. She clutched something—a teddy bear?—to her chest. Her heart pounded. She squeezed her eyes tight and dared not open them even to peek just the tiniest bit because she knew—somehow she knew—the dark figure lurked in a shadowless corner, hiding, waiting for her to fall asleep.
Her frantic mouth worked feverishly in a single repetition, “Mommymommymommy . . .” Yet no matter how desperately her burning lungs gulped breath after breath, she produced no sound.
A soft meow broke through her paralyzing terror. She opened her eyes.
The entity stood before her.
This time the form, though still hazy, appeared more human. She even saw faint facial features, twisted into a grimace.
The entity held out a hand. Did it want to communicate? Could she communicate in her current state? Pushing down the fear, she attempted to gain control, to open herself, and to accept a connection.
The figure drifted closer. Coldness gripped her. Her entire body shook as though the temperature had dropped below freezing.
The figure’s mouth appeared to move. Words? She couldn’t tell and couldn’t break the grip it held on her.
The outstretched hand reached for her. Unable to move, she watched the hand creep closer, closer until the fingers—tendrils—closed about her neck. Her skin burned where the entity touched her. No, froze. No, the tendrils were so cold they burned. She didn’t know and lost the ability to care as she choked and gasped for air.
She heard her name, distant, distorted as if someone called her while she sat underwater. Was that why she couldn’t breathe? Was she drowning?
“Kimberly?”
She heard the voice more clearly, followed by a frantic, “Kimberly!”
The entity turned toward the doorway, then dissipated. Drained, she pitched forward. Strong arms caught her before she hit the ground and encircled her as she lost consciousness.
19
Kimberly opened her eyes, a strong scent of lemon surrounding her. She turned her head, trying to get her bearings. Rosie hovered over her, brow furrowed and anxious. Michael and Sterling stood behind Rosie. Stan trained his camera on her from the foot of the couch. The rest of the crew was scattered about the living room.
Something slid off her forehead. Rosie caught it and repositioned it. “Be still. You were really wiped out this time. Give yourself a few more minutes to recover. The lemon oil on your feet and arms should help rejuvenate your energy.”
She listened to her and remained still, careful not to disturb the chakra crystal on her forehead. She took a deep breath, noting the weight of a crystal on her chest, as well. Breathing felt so good after choking. “How long was I out?”
“Just a few minutes,” Rosie said. “Sterling carried you to the couch.”
“Sterling did?” She sought out his eyes, but he wouldn’t meet her gaze.
Michael knelt beside her. Rosie shifted to make room for him. “Tell me what happened. Sterling is convinced you have an undiagnosed medical condition.”
“That’s ridiculous. I connected with the other entity—the shadow. I fell into a spiritual coexistence, morphing into the toddler’s awareness and experiencing The Dark through Drew. That little guy is incredible. I’m not sure how he braves it. It turned hostile. Choked me. I couldn’t breathe. What did we get on tape?”
“We haven’t had time to review,” Michael said. “We were too worried about you.”
“Can I sit up now?”
“Not yet,” Rosie said. “I have some tea almost ready. Just lie still and breathe lemon for a bit longer.” She scurried away.
Sterling stepped forward. “You okay?”
“I’ll be fine. Not the first time this has happened.”
“Right. I saw an episode where you passed out. Thought you must be faking. Guess it’s not an act.”
“That’s really offensive.” She didn’t like lying helplessly on the couch. Especially with him here.
“People don’t pass out for no reason, Kimberly. You must have some underlying cause. Even if it’s sheer exhaustion. That was really alarming.”
“I’m not faking. The underlying cause was being choked by a spiritual manifestation.”
“Sure. Have you been to the doctor for a checkup recently? Maybe you have low blood sugar. Or something more serious.”
“I appreciate your concern, but I know exactly what happened. And it isn’t medical. You’ll see it on the recordings. Probably.” She really hoped somebody had caught something on tape.
“I was standing right there. I had my own camera going. I didn’t see a thing except you having a seizure and not breathing. I’ve never been so scared. I wanted to call nine-one-one, but Michael forbade me. Not sure what kind of friend he is if he isn’t concerned about your safety.”
“Michael knew I wasn’t in danger. And we certainly didn’t need an ambulance disrupting the investigation. Rosie is trained to help me recover when my spiritual energy has been depleted. Think of it like your batteries being drained in your camera. When I open myself to an en
tity, I invite them to tap my energy for themselves, hoping they can connect with me. I’m certain that’s what happened tonight. I even saw some facial features and had the distinct feeling we’re dealing with a female presence. She didn’t want me interfering. But she was more than happy to drain my energy and show what she thinks of me.”
“That’s nonsense,” Sterling growled. “You should be at the hospital having tests run.”
“No. I need to be here taking advantage of a charged spirit that seemed ready to communicate.”
“If you consider choking a form of communication.”
She sat up, spilling crystals on the couch and floor. Sterling caught one and held it in front of her. “What is this?”
“Jade.”
“I recognize the stone. Why is it sitting on your chest? With all these other crystals?”
“I’m recharging my depleted spiritual energy. Anytime I need to recharge or focus on a specific chakra, I wear the corresponding crystal.” She held up her clear quartz on her necklace. “I always wear my quartz because it helps hone and harness the sixth sense. I add more if I feel lacking in a particular area. Rosie used all the crystals at once and placed them directly on the chakra zones to recharge fast.”
“You can’t possibly believe you draw strength from rocks. Like Popeye eating spinach?”
She laughed softly. “Rocks are of the earth. So are we. We draw all our power from the earth. Where else would we get it? Well, the earth’s energy comes from the sun, but we’ll keep it local for now. All the chemicals and elements that formed us come from the earth. The earth supports us. Of course we draw strength from the earth.”
“I . . . I don’t even . . . ,” he sputtered and shook his head. “You’re trusting your health to rocks and voodoo. You’re too smart for this nonsense.”
He thought she was smart? “It’s not nonsense. Look.” She placed a hand on each side of his face and forced eye contact. “Are my eyes dilated? Bloodshot? Yellowish? In any way unusual?”
He leaned closer and stared into her eyes. “I’m not a doctor, but they seem normal.”
“What about my skin tone? Pale? Flushed? Clammy? Anything wrong? Go ahead. Examine.” She lifted his hand to her cheek.
He swallowed hard. “I’m not really qualified to say, but I don’t see anything wrong.”
She saw his pulse quicken in his neck. So she wasn’t the only one who felt an inexplicable spark between them. Not good.
Michael cleared his throat. Sterling dropped his hand and jumped to his feet.
“You good, Kimmy?” His gaze bounced between her and Sterling under a furrowed brow.
She stretched. “I think so.”
Rosie bustled in through the front door, tea clutched between her hands. “I haven’t cleared her. Tea first.”
She accepted the decoction, wrapping her hands around the hot mug. She held it to her face and inhaled deeply.
“Ugh. Rosie! Not the Super Perk. You know I hate this one.”
Rosie crossed her arms. “Every drop.” She whirled on the crew. “And I better not catch any of you pouring it down the drain. She needs to drink it, so don’t listen to her sob stories.”
Rosie collected the crystals and left for the trailer.
Aware of every eye in the room on her, most filled with pity, she scowled. “Okay, find that ghost. Tape, run EVPs, thermal scan, see what you get. The ghost is hot—go!”
“Yes, everyone, let’s do what we do.” Michael clapped, and the room cleared.
Sterling sat beside her. “The ghost is hot?”
“Charged. Potentially more visible and more active. You can record, too, if you’d like.”
“So what’s in the tea?”
“Blah. It’s Rosie’s special recipe to treat all the chakras at once. She throws pretty much everything in her cache into a pot and boils it. Ginger, lemon and orange, honey, garlic, peppercorns, mushrooms, roots. Who knows what else? Meant to cleanse and energize. I know sometimes she adds sage to ward off spirits. I’ll need to wear something protective since this entity threatened me.”
Sterling leaned over the mug, sniffed, and wrinkled his nose. “Price of celebrity? Or just the price of your bizarre health practice?”
She narrowed her eyes at him and sipped—and couldn’t disguise the gag it prompted. She pressed her fingers to her forehead and rubbed.
“Headache?” Sterling asked.
She nodded. “A headache always follows an episode. It’s associated with contacting another spiritual plane.”
“Headaches are also associated with seizures, strokes, any number of other serious problems. Maybe you’re prone to migraines. Modern medicine can treat those. May be as simple as taking a pill.”
She shook her head. “Not migraines. Thank you for your concern, though.” She forced down a gulp of tea and shuddered. “Jeez, it’s worse than beer.”
“Don’t like beer, huh? Interesting. Here.” He took the mug and set it on the coffee table. Placing his fingers on her temples and his thumbs on her forehead, he rubbed gently.
Immediately the throbbing pain lessened. The rhythmic, circular pattern soothed. His touch dissipated the stress. “That’s fantastic. Thank you.”
Rosie came through the front door and gasped. “Did you finish the tea?” She marched to the abandoned mug. “As I suspected. Drink the tea first, then massage.” She shook a finger at Sterling.
“Rosie, come on. It makes my stomach hurt.”
“You’ve never once puked it back up. Drink.”
Michael leaned around the corner. “Kimmy, Sterling, I think we’ve found something.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder.
She shrugged at Rosie and helped gather her chakra stones. “I’ll have to drink the tea later.” She placed her hands on the cushions and eased herself off the couch.
Sterling jumped to his feet and rested a hand on her shoulder. “Sure you’re okay? No dizziness?”
She stood still and took stock. “No dizziness. Let’s see what Michael found.”
She crossed the living room slowly, Sterling at her elbow.
The moment she rounded the corner into the hall, she felt it—an icy wall slammed into her with the force of an arctic front. She gasped and stopped abruptly, pointing toward the door to the master bedroom.
Sterling curled an arm around her waist. “You got up too soon.” He attempted to guide her back to the living room, but she held her feet in place.
Teeth chattering, she jabbed her finger toward the entity drifting in the hallway. Which she knew he wouldn’t be able to see. “Camera . . . there . . . record.” She removed his arm from her waist and turned him to face the master bedroom.
“What’s wrong with you?” Sterling asked, lifting his camera.
“C-cold.”
Michael held out his thermometer. “Kimmy, I’ve found it. Cold spot, right here. TJ, get the FLIR. Stan, stay on Kimmy. Sterling, you recording?”
“Yes.” He fiddled with the “Record” button. “Why is Kimberly cold? She said the ghost was hot.”
“Figure of speech. Means it’s active. Charged. This is not a warm-blooded creature we’re dealing with. Elise, what’s the EMF look like?”
“Nearly one hundred. And climbing.”
“Unbelievable. Everyone stay on this. It’s building toward something big.”
Kimberly saw eyes boring into her from the entity’s face. It drifted closer, beckoning her. She shook her head. “No way. I’m not coming closer. One draining is enough for today. Tell me what you want.”
Without hearing a voice or even actual words, she knew the spirit wanted her gone.
“I won’t leave. Not until I know the family is safe.”
“Who are you talking to?” Sterling said. “No one told you to leave.”
“She did. The ghost. She doesn’t like us here.”
“EMF at one hundred and ten,” Elise murmured.
“Cold spot moving. It’s drifting down the hall. This is unreal. Ki
mmy, you good?”
“I’m fine. I’m prepared this time.”
“Sterling, don’t flip out,” Michael said.
“Why would I? There’s nothing there.”
“What do you want?” Kimberly asked the entity. “Tell us why you’re here. We can help you.”
She saw the figure stop, hover. She worried it would deplete its energy and dissipate before she learned anything more.
It rose higher, then swooped down at her, passing over Sterling.
“What the—is a window or door open? I felt a breeze.”
“No, Sterling, that was her. She’s directly between us now.”
He turned, aiming his camera at the space. “Still nothing—” He yanked the camera from his face. “I thought I saw—”
“Tell me what you want.” She wrapped a hand around the quartz crystal hanging from her neck and focused all her energy at the entity. She saw images of Drew and Josh sleeping in their beds. Her stomach churned.
The entity turned, raced past Sterling, and dived through the ceiling, leaving behind a trail of wispy residue.
Sterling smoothed his ruffled hair. “I felt that breeze again.”
“Not a breeze.” She gulped deep breaths, trying to compose herself before speaking directly into Stan’s camera. “She communicated with me. She wants the children.”
20
Kimberly slid her plastic keycard into the slot and swung the hotel door open. Bed had never looked so good. Physically exhausted and spiritually drained, she went to the bathroom and peeled the contacts from her eyes.
She turned the shower on as hot as she could stand, filling the room with steam. She lost track of time, savoring the heat against her skin, soothing her aching muscles.
Sleep tugged at her. She turned the water off and patted herself dry with a thick, white towel. She slid into her Victoria’s Secret nightgown.
The clock read 4:15 a.m. when she finally crawled between the clean, soft sheets. The bed wasn’t hers. No telling how many heads had rested on the pillow. But she was too worn-out to care. She closed her eyes, eager for sleep.
Someone knocked on her door.
She groaned. Go away. Surely it was a mistake. Everyone who knew she was here worked on the show. And not only did they know better than to disturb her but they also wanted to sleep while they could.
The Wantland Files Page 12