by Cara Swann
The next few days passed uneventfully, and Ben had an online session with Dr. Benton which ended in the good doctor suggesting maybe Ben wasn't suited to his line of work. Not only did this irk Ben, but he thought shrinks were supposed to listen passively, let the patient come to their own conclusions. Or maybe he'd watched too many bad shrink movies.
On Friday, the last graveyard shift for Ben, Tom called at the start of his duty. He asked, "So did you meet up with Carmilla in Denver?"
"Nah, but I did call her. She seemed uninterested."
"That's strange because according to Judy, Carmilla is trying to move here. I thought maybe you and she had hit it off."
Though Tom was a good friend, Ben was growing weary of his matchmaking and said bluntly, “I’m sorry. I don't think it's the right time to get involved in a relationship."
"Actually, it might be the best time. You know, get your mind off the incidents you told me about." He paused, then said, "Have you had any more of those since you got back?"
"No," Ben said, not wanting to get into it.
"Okay buddy, I'll butt out. Have a good one," Tom said, ending the call.
Ben thought he'd offended him, but it couldn't be helped. The growing obsession Ben had with the mysterious Olivia pretty much ruled out a romantic relationship right now, he thought...but now, staring at the monitors, he wondered if he was falling in love with a dead woman? No, he chided himself, he was merely interested in getting to the bottom of the eerie phenomena he'd experienced. And deep down, he felt Olivia's spirit was trying to communicate something to him. What that was, he didn't know.
As he sat there, Ben wondered how he could get in the vault without anyone knowing? This had been preoccupying his thoughts lately, and he still hadn't come up with a plan. He even thought about hiring a P.I. to investigate Olivia and Cranston's life -- but it would cost a lot, and probably be fruitless as well.
He spent most of his shift pulling up the facility floor plans, going over security measures for the vault. He'd only toured it briefly the first day he was hired, and Oglethorpe had made it clear it was off-limits. That one reason for security guards was to have constant surveillance should anyone try to break into the facility to breech the vault – lots of monetary incentive.
Even breaking into the vault wouldn't be enough, Ben knew, because there was a wall of safety deposit boxes with keys that held the patients' personal effects. Yes, he'd been told some had also stored great sums of stocks/bonds and cash, which didn't matter to him. What he wanted was to find out more about Olivia, especially her life with Cranston. The last ghost app message plagued him, and he couldn't get over thinking the vault was the source of information he needed.
And then, out of the blue, the way into the vault fell into his hands. The following Monday when he arrived for the evening shift at 3:30, the receptionist, Candace, told him a new patient was being prepped and would arrive on his shift. As he started to the security room, she also said, "There's some personal effects that need to be stored in the vault. I'm just about to take them down. Want to go with me? That place creeps me out."
He had no idea Candace had been allowed access again, but as Oglethorpe’s niece maybe he trusted her implicitly? Quickly he said, "Yes, I'll tag along. Only been down once."
They started down the hall, meeting Tom as he was leaving and saying, "Catch ya later bud, I'm heading home."
"Let's get together for a beer soon," Ben said.
"Will do. Let me know when," Tom replied, then disappeared out the door.
They turned to the left, a door to the stairwell down to the basement vault, and the moment they got to the first step, cold air enveloped them. Candace shivered, said, "Dang, I forgot how cold it is down there."
Ben flipped a switch on the wall, and fluorescent light flooded the stairs, making it easier to go down the steps. At the bottom, Candace took out her access card, swiped it on the sensor and the door beeped, then opened.
Standing there looking at the immense underground level, which was the size of the entire building, he thought Oglethorpe sure planned for the future. Not only did they have the above-ground storage, but some of this space was also set aside as emergency shelter, should they need to relocate the Dewars here to survive a natural disaster, war, whatever the case. Virtually self-sustaining too, with only minimal human oversight – a selling point, no doubt.
Candace led him to the enclosed corner, swiped the card again, and soon they were standing in the vault: a 30X30 foot section made with steel reinforcement. Candace went to the wall of safe deposit boxes, took out a key and opened number 101, putting a box of items in it. Every patient was provided with these secure lock-boxes for their use. Ben had already started thinking of what he someday wanted in his, although recently he'd wondered if he would really go through with being iced?
Looking at the row of boxes, he said, "Ever wonder what people choose to keep in their box?"
"We’re not allowed to see their personal effects, or at least not go through their things. Not important to us, at any rate."
Nodding, Ben said, "You're right."
"Let's get back upstairs, cold down here."
Ben took one long, last look around, feeling despondent at the impossibility of breaking into this place to retrieve Olivia's material.
As they walked down the hall, an idea occurred to Ben and he steered her into the control room, pointing at the computers. "We have been having problems with the cam down there in the vault, but so far, it is still working. I may need access to change the cam, at some point, but right now it's okay."
"Let me know if you do. Since you're on evening shift, we'll be seeing each other before I leave."
"Sure thing."
And just like that, Ben started planning to sabotage the cam view from the vault, to bide his time until he could get access.
Chapter 10
That night was busy in the prep room, although Ben stayed close to the monitors instead of observing. This patient was being decapitated, which meant a long, bloody night in there -- something Ben had zero interest in witnessing.
One of the medics had told him the new patient was well-known, a politician who'd had a long, illustrious career. Later, when Ben got home he looked at the news on his tablet, and sure enough, the name of the patient was banner news on all the cable websites. Or in this frenetic news cycle, "BREAKING NEWS."
It was odd being home shortly after midnight, but Ben was glad for the change, hoping to get more sleep. He grabbed a beer, sat down to scroll through a few movies on Netflix and finally settled on a sci-fi flick. When that was over, he went to bed and fell instantly asleep.
Then the nightmare:
Ben found himself in the field of flowers, now consisting of Bulgarian roses, pinkish and white, with a heady scent. He looked up to see the blue-tinted mountains surrounding the area, then heard a familiar voice, "Come look what I found."
And suddenly he saw Olivia step from the line of roses, appear in clear view: Her long, thick blond hair was wind-tossed, her wide azure eyes aglow, but her face was oddly pale, even as her frozen-blue lips parted to say, "Come, let me show you..."
Ben tried to run, but found his steps moving as if he were in quicksand -- slow, plodding even as Olivia held out her hand, beckoning.
At last he was close to her and saw her turn, point through the roses to where a little girl stood -- almost a small replica of Olivia. The girl said, "Mommy, I need you."
Olivia turned her face back to Ben, and he was stunned at the staggering grief in her expression. She put her head in her hands, starting to weep, mumbling, "You have to help her, you have to."
* * *
Ben awoke, feeling his eyes wet with tears. He was overwhelmed by the sense of loss and grief Olivia had shown him, and simply couldn't move. Paralyzed with the vision, the naked need of the little girl and Olivia for his help. But what, exactly, could he do? Cranston was a billionaire, private and reclusive, for all intents and purposes, out
of reach. Heck, even the tabloid paparazzi couldn't get a bead on him.
Feeling utterly defeated, Ben got up and went to the kitchen, got a bottle of water from the fridge. As he stood there staring at his reflection in the window, he felt he was at an impasse -- a roadblock. Unless he could get access to the vault, this was going nowhere.
Finally, with a shake of his head, he went back to bed.
* * *
Ben got up the next morning and decided to drive out in the boonies, try to get some landscape shots. Grabbing a jacket, he also packed a canvas tote with bottled water, a thermos of coffee and sandwich makings.
Leaving the small town behind, Ben drove thirty miles south, then turned off on a scenic route, slowing to enjoy the vast, endless highway that flatlined into a valley. Crops were grown here in the summer, but the land was fallow now. Early morning lent a slant of the sun that hazed the frosted grasses.
Seeing a place to pull over, Ben got out, took his camera bag out, locked the car and started walking across the crunchy grass. When he was nearly out of sight of the highway, he put up his tripod and attached the camera, then stood watching the traffic make slanted shadows as vehicles passed. He put the shutter speed high, shooting repeatedly at increasing intervals. He'd had amazing luck in capturing some spectacular shots this way but could never determine what he'd go home with.
The hours passed as he hiked around the region, sometimes rolling out a mat, lying on the cold ground and getting shots of the distant, looming mountains topped with snowfall. Or the dry, bent brown grass -- even shots focusing into the shadows cast by the sun-slant.
By the time he headed back to his apartment, he felt better. Just getting outside, enjoying nature had that effect on him -- partly why he loved photography. Often, looking back through his pictures, he could feel the expansive landscapes as if he was there again -- in the wide, open spaces unencumbered by daily baggage of work, relationships and just...life.
He heard on the radio that the controversial politician's funeral was going to be in three days, and he would then be buried back in his home town. Ben assumed it would be a closed casket service, since the esteemed politician's body was still in the prep chamber.
When he went into work at three-thirty, Tom greeted him, "Hey guy, how's it going?"
"Went out in the boonies to shoot today. Good to get away."
"I hear that. Bet you got some good ones."
Just then Candace stuck her head in the door. "Ben, Uncle Henry wants to see you a second."
Tom lifted an eyebrow. "Uh oh, is this good or bad?" He was looking at Candace, who shrugged.
"Have no idea, just said he wanted to speak with you."
"Be right there," Ben said, making a grimace at Tom as he left the room.
At Oglethorpe’s office, he knocked on the door and heard, "Come in."
Ben stepped inside the small office, noting the degrees hanging on the walls, a couple of family pictures on his desk. "You wanted to see me?"
"Yes, have a seat Ben. This shouldn't take long."
Perching on the edge of a faux-leather chair, Ben stared quietly, wondering what this was about.
"Ben, it's come to my attention that there's a section of digital security footage missing. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"
Trying not to show his surprise, Ben said evenly, "I might. We had a malfunction of the cam in the storage room one night recently. I ran the footage, took it out since it was blurred and messy."
Oglethorpe didn't say anything, merely stared.
"Is that what you meant?" Ben knew Oglethorpe liked the silent, intimidating stare, the very absence of conversation trying to elicit explanation. Ben stayed quiet, but it was difficult.
"Perhaps. Ben, you've been here a little over a year, and I've considered you one of our best security guards. I know that third shift can be exhausting, so I understand some of your recent forgetfulness. Or should I say, lapse in judgement? Whatever, are you sure you still want to work here?"
"Yeah, I do. I mean, I like the area, even thinking about buying a house."
"Let me remind you that you are under no obligation to use the benefit of being put in cryonic suspension upon your death. That is, for some, a perk of the job. But we respect everyone's decisions, their faith and beliefs. You can easily opt out of that, if you choose."
"Sir, I have been a fan of cryonics long before I was hired here. I still intend to use that benefit. If I've done something to make you think otherwise, consider this my apology."
After a long, hard stare into Ben's eyes, Oglethorpe grinned, and stood, stuck out his hand. Ben got to his feet, shook hands and said, "You are right about one thing, third shift sure messes with your sleep and your concentration."
"Agreed. Now that you are on second shift, I hope you'll feel better."
"Oh, I already do. Went out today for some photography, a hobby. Felt great to get outdoors."
As they parted, Ben headed down the hallway and realized though it wasn't stated, he was as much as on probation; Oglethorpe had somehow picked up on Ben's turmoil and bad attitude lately. And if there was one thing Oglethorpe demanded, it was unquestioned loyalty -- to him and to cryonics and the patients.
Seated in front of the monitors, Ben knew he was going to have to be extra careful and cautious going forward. If he got fired, he'd never be able to help Olivia, he feared.
Chapter 11
The following week was quiet, nothing happening on second shift. After a bit of tampering with the digital feed, Ben had it set up so he could fake a problem with the cam view in the vault. But he kept hesitating on using it, fearing this was going to cost him his job.
He'd been searching for security work online, at first just out of curiosity. Then more as a backup plan, should he lose this position. There were plenty of security jobs, but most were in other states -- especially Las Vegas. Reluctantly, Ben accepted that he might have to relocate and start over if this situation got much worse.
Not that he wanted to quit without finding out what was going on with the odd paranormal phenomena, just that he was at the point of having to decide on a plan of action. The procrastination was driving him nuts, and he'd cut the online sessions with Dr. Benton. The last time they had talked, Ben kept edging toward his belief that what he was experiencing was supernatural, not the result of exhaustion or PTSD. Of course, that led Dr. Benton to mention maybe in-patient treatment at which point Ben said adios.
He had finally set a time for the fake glitch, and when he arrived that Monday afternoon, he saw Candace was at the reception desk. The other office staff was off on Mondays, so it was just Candace. He said, "Hey, remember that cam I said was giving trouble?"
"Yeah. You ready to change it out?"
Ben hefted a box, said, "Have the replacement here, ordered it last week."
"I'm busy right now, can you wait about thirty minutes?"
"I could, but why don't you just give me the pass card and I'll go on down, get started."
"Fine. I'll be down shortly," Candace said, looking through her desk drawer for the card, then handing it to him.
She hesitated just a second, staring into his face. "Uncle Henry would kill me if he knew I was doing this, so be quick and make sure you dodge that cam on the stairwell."
"Sure thing, don't worry. This won't take long." Ben took the card, and started to the stairs, inching along the left side just slightly out of the digital cam on the wall.
When he was inside the basement, he disabled the cam, then used the digital card to get into the vault and took out the key he'd had made when he slipped the original from Candace's desk last week. Quickly he went to box 99, unlocked it and grabbed a large brown file folder.
Then he shut the drawer, locked it and went out of the vault, shut the door and began unpacking the new replacement cam; it only took a few minutes to install it, and he then put Olivia's file folder in the empty box. Just as he shut the top, he saw Candace appear at the open door, a
nd ask, "Hey, about done?'
"Yep. Just need to go back up and see if it's working on the monitor."
She said, "Let's go ahead and lock this door. I can let you back in if need be."
"Fine by me."
When he was back in the security office, he shoved the box into the corner, sat down at the monitors, pulled up the view, clicked a couple times and said, "Here. Looks perfect."
She said, "Good, I was just getting ready to leave. Hubby is taking me out to eat tonight."
"Sounds like fun," Ben said, seeing her gaze fall on the box.
"Want me to put that in the trash for you?"
"Nah. Thought I could use it at my apartment. I'm thinking of moving soon, looking at houses."
"Hey, one of my cousins sells real estate, I can ask if she has any properties you might like." Candace was standing in the doorway and looking at him.
"That would be great. Why don't I make a list of what I'm looking for, and you can give it to her?"
"Good idea. Well, I'm off. See you tomorrow."
Ben sat in the quiet room, his eyes drawn to the monitor for the storage area. He'd had no more odd sightings or sensations since the last dream, and though anxious to see what was in that file, he had to wait until he got home to go through it.
Just then he noticed movement on the monitor, the bluish chamber becoming misty, obscuring his view. He got up, went down the hallway, pulling on the air filtering mask and after swiping the pass card, entering the storage area; it was almost like dense fog had filled the space. That mist could be a sign of a malfunctioning nitrogen tank, so he started walking down the line of units, shining his flashlight over each one, taking special note of the hose that fed liquid nitrogen into each one. It was a unique setup, with a long, narrow tank behind the rows of units that kept the nitrogen available; the units were topped off about every three weeks but could go as long as six weeks without needing more. Independent of electricity, and with bodies/heads stored upside down, so that the head would defrost last as a safety feature.