The Haunting of Isola Forte di Lorenzo

by Sherlyn Colgrove

  As she watched she barely listened to them, but wondered how long it would take for the conversation between Tony and Jesse to grow from cordial, to strained, to a loud argument. The two men clashed more often than the Titans of ancient times, and that was just when they were spending no more than a day or two together. Exactly what would transpire between them over two weeks in the middle of nowhere wasn’t a pretty image.

  And then there was Matt and Jorden. Isis couldn’t hear what they were talking about, though it seemed to be a friendly conversation, a rare feat of late. It seemed that since they found out that they were going to Italy all they ever did was fight, though Isis was fairly certain she knew why. There had always been a certain amount of tension between the two of them since they started SCP, and she figured even before then, but since finding out about Italy, Isis had felt the tension in Matt grow. It was a shame that he was too damned chicken to tell Jorden how he felt, because Isis was fairly certain that Jorden felt the same way. To be honest, both of them were chickens and Isis didn’t know how much longer she could go without either saying something to the two of them or even going so far as to throw them into a small, locked room together until they talked things out.

  “Hey love,” Nigel said as he stepped up beside her, “are you planning on staying here or do you fancy a trip to Italy?”

  Isis hadn’t realized that in watching the others she’d missed their boarding call and she quickly picked up her backpack that carried her laptop and information she’d gathered on Lorenzo. She knew that she wouldn’t be able to sleep much on the flight; airplanes had never been kind to her in that manner, and she figured she’d get some work done in the meantime.

  As they stepped over the threshold between the Jetway and the plane’s door, Isis looked around while she followed Nigel to their seats. Their trip was scheduled at the last minute and they were lucky to get the same flight, though were unable to get seats that were anywhere near each other. She and Nigel had a pair of seats over the wings and by the window, which she was thankful for. She was far too claustrophobic to sit in the middle rows. Syd sat alone a couple of rows up while Ana and Saph sat in the same row but on the opposite side of the plane. Tony was three rows back from Syd and in the center while Jesse was clear in the back on the right side of the plane next to the window. Matt and Jorden were also in the center row of seats but clear in the front of the coach section.

  At least she had Nigel with her. Of all the SCP members, he made her laugh and forget when she was scared. She was sure that when the tickets were handed out, Syd had planned it that way and she could have kissed him for it.

  When the plane taxied out to the runway, Isis forced herself to take deep breaths, and when they started their jet powered charge forward, as if he knew that she was in distress, Nigel took her hand in his. Soon, they were airborne and on their way. Fourteen and a half hours…she closed her eyes and prayed.

  Syd was already making notes on the book he’d write about Lorenzo, starting with the research Jorden gave him. This would likely be the most popular of the books he wrote and it was his hope that they’d make enough money from it to finance another trip next year.

  It was good to be headed to Europe again; he hadn’t been there since he was a young child visiting his grandparents. His parents fled the country during the war when he was still a toddler to eastern Canada and he hadn’t been back since. Far too long. Though he wasn’t going to France it was still a homecoming of sorts and, if possible, he would attempt to make a trip over to his homeland before heading back to the states.

  As he worked on the intro for the book, he looked around the plane and wondered what he would write about the others on the team. Because this was a special investigation, he wanted to write something different, and because of this he made this intro personal, and like always, he would finish it once the investigation was over.

  Six hours into the flight and Jorden finally fell asleep. Her head rested lightly on Matt’s shoulder and he gently repositioned himself so that she wouldn’t be sleeping on the bone and he wouldn’t be in agony after just a few minutes.

  Matt knew that Jorden was nervous about the trip, though he wasn’t sure why. He’d asked several times and she wouldn’t talk about it, though he had to admit that he hadn’t pressed all that hard. But after their team meeting with Jonas Harper, and seeing the way he looked at her and the way she stared at him with an intensity he’d never seen before, he just couldn’t bear to be near her. Now, though, he was glad that Syd sat them together and far from the others. It had given them a chance to talk, though she still didn’t seem to want to talk about the trip. Whenever he brought up Lorenzo, she grew quiet…too quiet…and would change the subject. What he did get from her put his mind at ease regarding her and Harper. She admitted that she didn’t trust him and that she was worried they were being used. Matt agreed, but at least they knew it and that was something. If they were being completely honest, they would have to admit that they were using Harper and his partners as well. They were giving the SCP team the opportunity to have an allegedly haunted location to themselves for two weeks. If nothing else, it would be a nice vacation.

  Matt worked on his laptop and using the map that Harper had supplied and the notes that Tony gave him, he started to make notes of his own. Because of the size of the location, the investigation was going to have to be split into two different segments. The first would focus on the monastery and surrounding buildings while the second concentrated on the hospital and its surrounding buildings. At least the cottage where they’d be staying was pretty evenly set in between the two locations and they wouldn’t have to move their base of operations.

  On the first night of the investigation, Matt and Jorden would take the dormitories of the monastery. They hadn’t generated the most activity, but it would be a good place to start. While Jorden had been on several investigations over the years, she was primarily a researcher and spent most of her time in the investigations at the computers at base. He then decided that Syd and Ana should investigate the refectory and the kitchen while Isis and Nigel took the courtyard and rice fields. Finally he would place Tony and Saph in the Chiesa del Popolo, the People’s Church, leaving Jesse to take first watch at base to keep an eye on all of the stationary cameras.

  “You should get some sleep too,” Syd said just above a whisper so not to disturb Jorden as he stepped up to Matt’s side.

  There was a vacant seat across the aisle from Matt and Syd took it.

  “I was going over our schedule and once we land we’re not going to have a lot of time for relaxation or much more than catching a few hours of sleep,” Syd lectured further.

  “I know, but I still have a lot to do,” Matt whispered then glanced down at Jorden. “Besides, she’s comfortable and I don’t want to disturb her. I’ll get some sleep later.”

  Syd closed his eyes and gave him a brief shake of his head along with a smile on his face.

  “What?”

  “Nothing,” Syd assured.

  Rather than press the matter Matt changed the subject, “So why aren’t you getting any sleep?” he asked.

  “Too excited I imagine,” Syd admitted. “I dozed a bit, but couldn’t sleep long.”

  “Well try to get more. As you said, we’re going to be extremely busy once we land and I want all of my investigators well rested,” Matt insisted firmly.

  Syd stood. “Just make sure that you follow your own advice,” he said with a clap on Matt’s free shoulder then headed back to his own seat.

  Matt heard what Syd said and knew that the older man was right, but as he looked at the notepad and the schedule he was working out, he couldn’t stop. Or rather, he wouldn’t. Lately is seemed that all he had when he slept were nightmares. If he wasn’t dreaming about the shootout that ended his career as a cop, he was dreaming about darker things that didn’t make any sense.

  Instinctively he looked back down at Jorden. Often times it was her face that he’d see in his n
ightmares, and other times the rest of his SCP team would be there. He brushed it off as anticipation for the trip to Italy, but there was something inside that made him worry, and kept him from getting the sleep that he knew he needed.

  When the plane landed in Italy, Jorden couldn’t breathe until the plane came to a complete stop. One of the other PE teachers at the school had been in a plane crash where the plane skidded off the end of the runway. There were only minor injuries, but as the engines of her own plane screamed and the landing gear touched the runway, Jorden took a deep breath and held it.

  No one around her seemed to be aware of her distress and she liked it that way. She was always the rock when others came to her with their fears, and as a teacher she was expected to remain in control during an intense situation, though now nothing could be further from the truth.

  Jorden’s hands gripped the armrests of her seat so tightly that her tanned knuckles were white while she felt her nails dig into their fabric skin. Her grip remained ironclad even as the plane lurched and started to slow. Still, she didn’t breathe.

  Finally the plane slowed to a crawl and eventually ended up beside an extended Jetway. Two minutes and thirteen seconds after touching down, Jorden took a breath. It wasn’t her personal best; being a swimmer she’d learned to hold her breath for a great amount of time, just under five minutes, but the stress of the situation took its toll and forced a gasp once the plane stopped.

  “Are you all right?” Matt asked as he stood and reached for the overhead bins.

  “Fine,” she said steadily.

  Matt shrugged and pulled his laptop case and small duffle bag from the bin, along with a small, light blue duffel that belonged to Jorden. “Then let’s head out. I want to get down to customs ASAP.”

  Jorden stood and took her bag from Matt and followed him down the Jetway. In the terminal, the entire SCP team gathered to head to baggage claim. While Isis, Nigel, Jesse, Syd, Ana and Saph stayed back to retrieve the bags, Matt, Jorden and Tony headed to customs.

  While Jorden was excited to be in a foreign country for the first time in her life, an airport was still an airport and as they pushed through crowds of people speaking a myriad of languages, very few of which she understood, she couldn’t wait to get the hell out. When they finally recovered all three three-by-three crates and got them loaded into their two rented minivans, and were finally on their way, Jorden allowed her first real smile in weeks.

  It was a long drive that took them past landmarks as well as neighborhoods and small towns, and eventually ended on the western coast. When Isis stepped out of the second minivan, she marveled at her surroundings. While it wasn’t entirely different from some of the smaller towns along the California coast there were obvious differences and she took each of them in. Of course, with her flirtatious nature, she couldn’t stop herself from winking at a couple of local fishermen, who were both probably young enough to be her…nephews.

  “And here I thought that I was the only love in your life love,” Nigel joked in her ear, just loud enough for only her to hear.

  She looked up into his bright blue eyes and donned a mischievous grin. Aside from a single tryst between the sheets more than a year ago after a party for Tony where both of them got drunk, Isis and Nigel were little more than good friends, maybe even best friends. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to do it again, from what she could remember she had fun and both of them enjoyed themselves, but a drunken evening together was nothing to base a relationship on and to be honest, she was getting too old to continue flirting around and he was too young to think about settling down. Still, she smiled. “And you are…love.”

  Oh well, at least they could continue getting into trouble together, and of course hunting ghosts. It was a love shared among the entire SCP family that had been fashioned over the years, and each of them was looking forward to this trip for the obvious reasons, but when Isis looked at Nigel, she saw something else. It wasn’t the anticipation that the others wore, but rather fear.

  Isis’s smile faded and she could feel her face grow tight with worry. “Are you all right?” It was a lame question, as she could plainly see that he wasn’t, but she didn’t know how else to broach the subject.

  “I’m fine love, why do you ask?” he said rather convincingly, though there was still something in his eyes and the nervous energy that poured from him that spoke far more volumes than any words ever could.

  Still, knowing that Nigel was the type to shut down emotionally rather than speak to anyone about his problems, Isis nodded and decided to approach the subject later; when he wouldn’t be so inclined to tell her to push off.

  The boat ride straight out into what seemed like the middle of nowhere didn’t take too long, though it was long enough to make the Italian coastline disappear behind them. Once it seemed that they were completely alone on the water the island appeared ahead of them. Starting from a lonely, heavily shadowed mound rising into the horizon, it quickly grew as the boat moved closer. Overgrown vegetation colored the island shades of green and brown and hid any signs of civilization either past or present, though the spire of a bell tower could be seen piercing through the leafy, green canopy as it stabbed ruthlessly into the powder blue sky above.

  “Isola di morte,” the boat driver muttered. Since Italian wasn’t one of the languages Matt had even a decent understanding of he’d have to ask Syd what it meant. But that could wait until later.

  “I thought that Harper said that there was a human presence on the island,” Jorden said suspiciously. “It doesn’t look as though anyone has been here for years.”

  “As far as I know the only human presence that’s been here is a family who takes care of the grounds. Harper told me that they pretty much stay out of the buildings with the exception of the refectory and the church, and are here to keep curious kids and tourists out,” Matt said, though he understood her suspicion. She wasn’t the only one who felt that something wasn’t right. Still, as the leader of the group, he had to be a voice of reason, so he pushed his uneasiness aside and smiled as he looked down at her. Her long hair was pulled back in a ponytail, though several strands had pulled free and they whipped around her face as she looked on, not aware that he’d been staring. It wasn’t until his long pause forced her to turn her head and he immediately looked back at the island. “You can expect a family to do only so much.”

  “I suppose,” she said, still on edge, then looked back at the island as well. “Let’s just hope that our accommodations aren’t quite as neglected as the rest of the island appears to be.”

  “I think that we should wait on judgment until we’ve had a chance to see the entire grounds. Besides, we knew that the island had been abandoned,” Matt reasoned, intending to silence his own doubts as well as Jorden’s. “I know that you didn’t expect a pristine castle.”

  Jorden shot him an irritated glower. “Of course not,” she said then once again turned back to the island and shook her head. “I just…” her words trailed off.

  Matt didn’t like the tone or the distance in her voice. “You just what?” he urged.

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. I think that I’m still tired from the trip. I didn’t really get that much sleep.”

  That was a lie. She’d slept nearly the entire trip…or at least he thought that she had. Her head had rested on his shoulder nearly the entire trip and he had the stiff shoulder to prove it. He’d hate to think that it was for nothing. Still, discretion was the better part of valor and Matt decided that he wouldn’t contradict her or inquire further.

  The boat pulled up to a sun bleached, rickety dock barely standing above the water. Algae gathered on the surface of the water where it met the rocky shore while wild cattails and long grass leapt away from the island in graceful arcs and brushed against the calm surface, gently swaying with the current that tugged at their roots. Gnarled oak branches reached out beyond the rocky shore and joined the long grass at the surface of the deep blue water, their leaves ge
ntly scraping against the surface. With the thick green leaves spreading out, the branches made for a nice shelter for anyone who might want to hide from the heated rays of the bright sun above.

  Matt stepped out and was immediately greeted by an old, hunchbacked, man who appeared far too thin and frail to take care of himself let alone an island such as this.

  “Benvenuto,” the man greeted in a cracked voice.

  Matt’s lack of understanding of the Italian language notwithstanding, he recognized “welcome” when he heard it. Though had he not recognized the word, he might have thought that the old man was issuing a warning. With his hollow eyes, cracked voice, slumped shoulders and severely creased face it was clear that life had taken a toll on him and Matt couldn’t help but wonder just how much of his condition was related to the island and his care of it.

  Syd stepped forward and started speaking to the old man in fluent Italian while Matt and Jorden stayed back and looked on. It took only a moment before Syd stepped back up to them. “He’ll lead us to the cottage where we’ll be staying. Mister Harper instructed him to bring a truck to take our equipment. It’s parked up at the top of the stairs.”

  Both Matt and Jorden looked up the stairs at the end of the dock that rose up a fifteen foot or so incline. “Stairs” was a generous term; they were more just protruding rocks of uneven size, some sticking out as much as a foot or as little as just a few inches. Many were dusted with sand and some held barnacles which told them that it wasn’t rare that the water line rose at least halfway up the rocky stairs and the rocks appeared damp. They both sighed.