“And if instead, we don’t debunk?”
“Then, we see if we can get hard data of anything supernatural. My gut tells me that we’re going to have enough abnormalities that we won’t need to manufacture drama.”
“Yeah?” Ray asked sarcastically. “Demon Hunters may just drum up all the drama you need for the rest of your abnormal life, my friend.”
Zach had never confided in Ray how abnormal his life really was. There had been a close call—freshman year of high school, when Zach had just begun to gain control of his affliction, but in the end Zach had kept the secret even from his best friend. “Again, you sound way too familiar with the show.”
Ray took a scapular from his locker and kissed it before draping the small, Catholic sacramental article over his head and tucking it into his shirt.
“You know that isn’t just supposed to be a good luck charm,” Zach said. He also wore one of them—he and Ray had gotten them together at their Confirmation ceremony in sixth grade.
“Okay, Mr. Judgmental,” Ray said. “You keep your Sundays as you want, and I’ll keep mine as I wish.” He shoved his sweaty clothes into his gym bag. “So how’s your dad getting along?”
“He’s okay. Still grieving or maybe still in shock. He and my mom may not have had the best marriage, but they were together for almost thirty years.”
Ray stopped packing and stared at him. “And you? How are you with it?”
It was a question that, since the funeral, Zach hadn’t asked himself often. Over the years as his mother’s condition worsened, more so as her emotional illness worsened, his visits had become less and less frequent. After one unusually intense outburst, his dad suggested, for the benefit of everyone, Zach stop coming by the hospital altogether. That arrangement had lasted six months—until she’d called him to her deathbed.
“I’m okay. I mean, you know. It’s hard but…”
“No, I don’t know,” Ray said, shaking his head. “And I don’t even want to imagine how hard it is, but I am here for you, buddy.”
“I know. Thanks.” They rarely shared moments like this. “Anyway, the biggest thing now is establishing a relationship with Dad again. It’s different now.”
“I’ll bet,” Ray said. “Wow. Almost three decades of marriage, huh? That’s gotta be some adjustment for him to go from…that to living alone.”
“Oh, that reminds me. Dad and I need your help this weekend. The old deck on the house is showing signs of termite damage.”
Ray had finished getting dressed. “That rickety ole thing? Yeah, and?”
“And we’re going to have to tear it down and haul it away ASAP before those little buggers spread.”
“Yeah? And?” He smiled.
“Screw you. Are you going to make me beg for help and the use of your precious cargo truck?”
Ray smirked. “Nah, as you know, I would do just about anything for…” He slapped Zach on the shoulder. “…your dad.”
Despite his growing apprehension, Zach grinned. Ray was loyal, practically a brother, but Zach could sense his friend’s disappointment at having to work with the Demon Hunters. Would the other team members merely be let down, or would they feel betrayed?
Chapter Three
Oak and maple trees dotted the campus of Saint Xavier University. Their orange and red leaves waved in the breeze brushing against their green counterparts as if reminding them that they too would be falling to the ground. Unrelenting autumn would strip the trees naked by the end of the season. A faint musk of decay hung in the air that even a strong breeze couldn’t whisk away. Students scurrying from one mundane class to another seemed ambivalent to the subtle alterations that, one after the next, were leading them into winter.
Sara had arranged for Zach to make the announcement of the Halloween Special to XPI on the university quad in a circular sitting area near the bronze Our Lady of Mercy statue. She felt filming on campus added a “collegiate flavor” to the show that appealed to a young audience.
The fall afternoon reminded Zach of the day years prior when he founded Xavier Paranormal Investigators. He had waited on the quad wondering if anyone would take seriously his posted flyers expressing interest in forming a ghost hunting group. Ray tagged along offering moral support. Little did either of them know that he would one day be an integral part of the team. Shelly Raynor, a Criminal Justice major, was the first to show up. Dark haired and attractive, she confessed that she would join only for a few cases. Once she completed her degree, she claimed, she’d be getting a job as a crime scene investigator. Several years and dozens of cases later, she still remained on XPI. Zach suspected that she’d one day work for the federal government. In his mind’s eye, he could already picture her dressed in a navy blue suit normally worn by FBI agents.
Rebecca Smythe had been the next to join XPI, but she likely wouldn’t have said twenty words had it not been for Shelly’s delicate interrogation. Short and plain-looking, Rebecca wore wanton brown hair that completely contradicted her personality. She revealed that she held a strong commitment to the supernatural that had emerged from a personal experience she had declined to share. Because she had researched the paranormal extensively, Zach made her the team Occult Specialist. Their first case, she discovered an ancient Navajo ceremony to release the spirits of infants who were haunting a school that had been converted from a hospital where the babies had died in childbirth. Since then, Rebecca’s dedication and research had made her an expert in the supernatural.
Over the years, students joined and left, but the core members of XPI–which included the technical guys who’d been added later, had become a family of sorts. Sometimes it was a dysfunctional one, but a family nonetheless. And now, Zach was going to shock them with two surprises. One, the case at Rosewood, he knew they’d like, but the other, working with the Demon Hunters, had the potential to divide them.
“Okay ladies and gents,” Sara said, snapping Zach back to the present. “Is everyone here? Where’s Matthew Morgan?”
“I’m here,” Matthew said. He was wearing a black t-shirt and a red baseball cap. They’d done twelve episodes and he had made that combination of apparel his signature of sorts. Matthew, a theater production major, was an expert in producing intricate stage sets. His ingenuity carried over into his work on the show. Whenever a contraption needed to be constructed to facilitate lighting or cameras, Matthew was “the man.” While he’d earned his reputation for being tardy, he had arrived early and already constructed a makeshift platform for the cameraman to get shots from an elevated position.
It was Mike “Turk” Turko, Ray’s audio and video review counterpart, who appeared to be running behind schedule.
“Where the hell is the Turk?” Sara demanded.
Zach cringed as soon as Angel Perez opened his mouth to speak. “He’s probably banging the easiest freshman he could find.”
As XPI had come to rely more and more on technical equipment, Zach had recruited Angel as their Technical Lead. The pudgy, acne-scarred Mexican-American was not a handsome man, per se, and his antagonism and resentment towards the Turk made him even less attractive.
Sara glowered at Zach as though both Angel’s attitude and Turk’s lateness were his fault. Zach pulled out his cell phone but, just then, Turk popped out of the glass doors of the brick building nearest them, the cafeteria. His slicked back jet-black hair and sunglasses gave him the slightest hint of movie star quality which he played to the hilt. Chomping on a banana, he hustled over to the group.
“Thanks for showing up, Turko,” Angel said. “Nice banana. Don’t you usually freeze those and use ‘em when you’re alone?”
“Hey.” Zach squinted at Angel. “You’re in mixed company here.” He did not intend to continue playing referee between those two. Their history of gamesmanship was obviously not clean.
Most of the XPI team cast not-so-subtle glances at Wendy Merrick, their Historical Researcher. Wendy had been added to the XPI team immediately prior to filming the
ir debut episode. Thin, blonde and self-conscious, had she refused to date either Angel or Turk, no one would have been uncomfortable. Had she not been girlfriend to both of them at various times over the prior summer, the comfort level would have been perfect.
“Okay people, listen up!” Sara’s normal energetic demeanor kicked into an even higher gear.
As usual, Ray was standing as close to Sara as he could without literally casting his shadow on her. “I’m listening,” he said.
As usual, she ignored him. “We’re going to start filming. Zach’s going to fill you in on the case details. Give me some honest reactions and no clowning around. Zach’s got a couple surprises in store.”
She pointed at him, which meant that the high-definition cameraman standing near her was already filming.
“Welcome back, Xavier Paranormal Investigators. As most of you have heard, we’ve been given a high-profile case that will likely be a ninety-minute special to air on Halloween night. What you don’t know is that—”
“Wait,” Angel said. “Sara, do you want me filming this?” He held up a handheld video camera which they used in many scenes to give the show a documentary appearance.
A collective grumble went through the group. Turk’s groan was predictably louder and longer than the others. Shelly whispered something to Rebecca, and the pair exchanged a smirk and a grin. God only knew how and where Sara would splice that sneaky little shot into the episode.
“Keep rolling,” Sara said to the HD cameraman. “Yes, Angel. Start filming.”
Zach regrouped. “What most of you don’t know is where this assignment will take us.” He stuck his hands in his pockets, looked at his feet and began pacing. Zach tried not to act overly dramatic while the cameras were running. He felt that sometimes just a slight dramatic effect—like him pacing, improved the show’s timing. “There is a place that I’ve wanted to investigate most of my life. I’d almost given up on ever getting that opportunity.”
Shelly raised her hand and whisked dark hair off her face for the camera shot. Zach knew her guess before she even asked it. She had a penchant and passion for investigating female ghosts. “Willowbrook Ballroom?” she asked.
The western suburban dance hall was the second most notable presumed-haunted facility in Chicago. Hundreds of people had reported having seen or experienced a ghost named “Resurrection Mary” on or near the grounds. Shelly had been lobbying him to let XPI investigate that spot all year.
Zach stopped pacing, looked up at her and tilted his head. “Nope.”
Presumably having guessed the answer, a couple team members gasped, most were just silent.
Thumping her hand to her chest, Wendy was the first to vocalize it. “Rosewood Asylum!”
Again, silence.
Even the normally frenetic quad hushed. Students, who had been allowing a relatively wide berth, slowed or stopped as though in reverent admiration.
“Yes,” Zach said. He puffed out his chest and took a step toward the group. He and Sara had discussed, even rehearsed this next speech. Not only would it come off well on TV, but it would ensure that no one in the group could later back out without looking like a total quitter. “And I need to know, here and now, if anyone feels strongly about not investigating this with me. Even if it’s just a nagging fear from inside that you won’t be able to hold up under the pressure, I won’t care now if you come forward and decline this mission.”
Only Ray pursed his lips; he already knew what was coming. The others, as though mesmerized, just stared.
“I need to know right now. Are we in this together?” Zach asked. “Are we in this together, no matter what?”
Most nodded slowly. Looking around, Matthew spoke up. “I think we’re all behind you, boss.”
Zach exhaled deeply and smiled. He glanced at Sara who was already sending a text message to cue the next act of the performance.
The team fired questions at Zach in rapid succession.
“How did we get permission from the state?”
“How much time will we have?”
“When do we start?”
Zach held up one finger and shook his head. “Guys…guys, I still have one major announcement.”
The team quieted. The cameraman slowly circled behind Zach discreetly pointing his lens at the faces of the team. Sara held up a handheld video cam at the doors that Turk had earlier emerged from. Ray’s smirk had transformed into a rueful grimace.
“Because this is such a major undertaking,” Zach continued, “the network has seen fit to provide us some help, some reinforcements, I’d like to call them.”
Ray tapped Angel on the shoulder and pointed to the cafeteria exit where the Demon Hunters were emerging. Seeing the stunned looks on his team’s faces and knowing they were being captured in high definition, Zach wondered if he’d made a major mistake.
Chapter Four
Led across the quad by their enigmatic host Bryce Finman, the Demon Hunters looked like a pack of Hells Angels who’d ridden their motorcycles through the entire length of a circus train. In their late-twenties to early-thirties, they were grungy, colorful and eclectic in a “rock star” sort of way. The Demon Hunters were tall, and to a person, appeared much thinner than they did on television. Two of the five looked almost emaciated—or maybe it was just an illusion produced by their thick layers of make up.
Clad in a gray overcoat out of Tombstone, Bryce strode towards Zach with his arms hanging limp at his sides. His neo-1980s hairstyle was dyed platinum blond.
Zach had never met him in person and had assumed that they’d be about the same height. He was wrong. When Bryce unexpectedly embraced him in a hug, Zach’s face met the chest of his counterpart’s trademark black and pink striped shirt. His stature had been camouflaged by the height of the other Demon Hunters; Bryce stood at least six-feet, four-inches tall.
“Zachman, we really appreciate you inviting us along on this investigation,” Bryce said. Considering his tone, not to mention the fact that he had not invited them, Zach found the comment subtly patronizing.
Bryce paused to face the XPI team as a whole, and then pumped a fist in the air with every syllable. “And we shall not let you down!”
In unison, the Demon Hunters pounded their fists together and barked like a pack of wild dogs, as a sign of their agreement and support. Zach had witnessed their signature cheer on every episode of their show.
Not one Xavier Paranormal Investigators team member had uttered a word since the appearance of the motley band of rival ghost hunters. Sara however, was grinning as though envisioning an Emmy award on her mantelpiece.
Zach knew he should speak but couldn’t find the words.
“To the rest of you in XPI, I say this,” Bryce droned on, fist still prepared to pump, “please consider us your new friends and your new teammates. We-are-in-this-to-ge-ther!”
Again the Demon Hunters performed their bark and signature fist clunking. Zach was growing tired of the rah-rah; it was time to get down to business.
“Thank you, Bryce,” he said, and then turned to the camera. “As you know, Rosewood is considered the most haunted place in Chicago. That makes it a prime target for anything from good-natured tricks and pranks, to hoaxes and all out sabotage. If people get wind that our teams are investigating Rosewood, they may look to make a name for themselves. They’ll deceive us and then after the show airs, go public with the hoax.” Zach took a few steps around the group’s outer circle. It provided a dramatic pause. “Therefore, we need to be on the lookout for any evidence of both natural explanations and fraud. The state may be hoping we’ll debunk the haunting, but with over one hundred years of reputation, I find it hard to believe we’re not going to find ample evidence of paranormal activity at Rosewood.”
The Demon Hunters looked to Bryce as if anticipating a signal to cheer, but he subtly shook them off. Shell-shocked glares from the XPI team let Zach know that they were inspecting his every move for either evidence of leadership or betra
yal. Sara and her cameraman circled around both groups alternating between shots of Zach’s speech and the reaction to it.
“We’re meeting the Rosewood custodian at the site tomorrow at 9 A.M. We’ve got forty-eight hours to collect as much data as humanly possible. That means, before we go in there, we need to know as much as we can about the history of Rosewood.” Zach pointed. “Wendy, please be prepared to brief both groups at the gates of Rosewood tomorrow morning at 8 A.M.”
She nodded.
“We need extensive historical research done.”
“Yes, sir!”
“Patrizia?” Zach turned to the Demon Hunters’ DemonHistorian.
In normal terms, Patrizia was a demonologist. On their show, she wasn’t involved much with the on-site investigations. Zach thought to call her ‘hot’ would not only be an understatement, but based on her scowl and icy stare, it might be the last thing uttered by whoever said it. She had long, jet-black hair and was darkly complexioned. Her attire of black leather pants, a black spandex top that exposed her taut midriff and white leather jacket appeared ready for an action film.
“Would you please assist Wendy and focus your research on the modern-day occurrences—especially that incident where the GrocersMart surveillance cameras captured video of store windows breaking from the inside? Get to the bottom of that,” Zach said. His inflection inadvertently made it sound more like a question than a command.
There was an edge to Patrizia, not her expression so much as her velvet brown eyes which seemed to lose their softness as he stared into them. They flashed indecision but for a second, and then as though forcing any uncertainty beneath the surface, she squinted. “Right.”
Zach barely suppressed a shudder. He’d been wrong. She wasn’t just hot, she was absolutely gorgeous.
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