“What’s the third choice?”
“We’re both losing our minds.”
“This is impossible,” Amy said, feeling helpless.
“It’s very possible,” Matt said. “Remember what I told you about EM fields? The really strong ones mess with your brain. Maybe it’s the lighting grid, maybe it’s power lines, maybe there’s a giant geomagnetic field under the building.”
“If it’s affecting our brains,” Amy said, “then why is it also affecting your camera?”
“Maybe it’s not,” Matt said. “Maybe the camera is fine, and both of us are hallucinating that it’s not.”
Eventually they settled on a new tactic: this time they would navigate using what was on the screen, ignoring the reality of their surroundings. Matt panned the camera until the tiny screen showed them the direction they wanted to go, then he held it up in front of them. They followed the path on the screen, ignoring what was actually around them. The split perception made Amy feel like she was going to be sick.
“I don’t want to go crazy,” she said.
“We’re not going crazy,” Matt said. “We’re experiencing some rather extreme effects of electromagnetic fields on the human brain.”
They followed the camera, and the route took them in a crazy looping circle through reality. On the screen, they were walking through Storage Solutions. In real life, they were colliding with wastebaskets and file cabinets in Home Office, then climbing over ottomans and end tables in Living Rooms.
“What happens if we make it back to the Müskk, but we don’t see Ruth Anne and Trinity?” Amy asked. “What happens if they’re on the screen but not in real life?”
“One freaky crisis at a time,” Matt said. “To your left, watch out.”
He pushed Amy’s head down and she narrowly missed braining herself on the edge of a display shelf. They crawled over a Potemkin armchair and then out the other side of the room display. On the camera’s screen they were taking a hard right-hand turn.
“That’s sending us back the way we came,” Amy said.
“Don’t panic,” Matt advised. “Just follow the camera.”
Amy placed one hand on Matt’s shoulder and kept going, both of them walking faster now. Their breathing was shallow and Matt was sweating through his hoodie. They rounded the last corner, and in one disorienting blur, the image onscreen and the image in front of them blended together as one.
Trinity and Ruth Anne were sitting on a Müskk, waiting.
“Where were you guys?” Trinity asked. “Making out?”
Amy sat on the edge of the bed, clutching the sides of her head, trying to steady her thoughts. “I don’t even know how to explain it,” she said. “We were lost. We were absolutely, completely disoriented.”
“That’s a tiny bit of an exaggeration,” Matt said. “I got us back here, didn’t I?”
Ruth Anne knelt beside Amy, concerned. “You do look a little peaky. What happened?”
Amy recounted everything she and Matt had just experienced, explaining how they’d used the viewfinder to guide their way back to Bedrooms. As the story progressed, Trinity grew more and more excited.
“Sounds like paranormal activity to me,” she said. “What else could it be? There’s no rational explanation.”
“There are plenty of rational explanations,” Matt said.
“Rational, shmational, I want to try it,” Trinity said. “Get the camera and let’s go to Kitchens, see if we can make it happen again.” She grabbed Matt’s hand and pulled him down the Bright and Shining Path. He scarcely had time to snag a gear bag.
Amy turned to Ruth Anne. “We need to get back to the break room. Basil will be waiting for us.”
“Of course,” Ruth Anne said, wrapping an arm around Amy’s waist and helping her off the bed. “Come on, hon. Maybe you just need something from the vending machine. Some pretzels to get your blood sugar back up.”
Together they headed into Wardrobes, and the great Showroom silence settled over them like a shroud. Amy told herself she wasn’t scared anymore, but as they walked along the Path, she was increasingly certain they were lost again. She picked up her pace, panic crawling up her spine, and then a massive wave of relief washed over her when at last up ahead she finally saw the brightly colored bunk beds of Children’s. Even then, she wouldn’t allow herself to relax until she and Ruth Anne were back in the break area, all four walls clearly visible and close enough to touch.
“I’m glad that’s over,” Ruth Anne said quietly.
“Me, too.”
“And according to Basil’s schedule, we get a fifteen-minute break before starting the next patrol.”
Amy’s heart sank.
Basil was furious when Amy and Ruth Anne returned to the break room. “What part of ‘thirty minutes’ did you not understand?” he asked. “What have you been doing?”
“Talking to Matt and Trinity,” Ruth Anne explained.
“What?” Basil said.
“They’re the ones who gummed up the partners’ entrance,” Ruth Anne said. “But Trinity told me they’d clean it up before they left, so you don’t have to worry about that.”
“What?” Basil repeated.
“They’re over in Bedrooms,” Ruth Anne said. “But it’s okay, they’re not vandalizing anything. They’re just filming a video for their ghost-hunting show.”
“What?” Basil asked again.
“You know how on A&E they’ve got those ghost hunters?” Ruth Anne said. “Oh, shoot, they don’t want to be on A&E, though. Right, it’s Bravo. Anyway, they say this place is built on an old prison and they’ve got cameras and microphones and all kinds of electromagnetic detectors and they’re shooting their own little ghost show. It’s real cute. We caught them kissing, didn’t we, Amy?”
“We did,” Amy said, sitting down on one of the Arsles and crossing her arms over her chest.
She decided that she was going to sit there and definitely, absolutely not go back out on the floor for the rest of the night. She resisted the urge to check her phone. The last time she’d looked it had been 12:20. She thought if she checked again and it wasn’t at least 1 a.m. she would go crazy.
She couldn’t check it again.
It felt too soon to check it again.
But finally, against her better judgment, she checked it again.
Twelve twenty-five a.m.
“This is unbelievable,” Basil said. “Why would they do this?”
“They want to make Orsk famous,” Ruth Anne said.
“It’s already famous,” Basil said. “You need to show me where they are. Right now.”
Amy didn’t want to get involved. She wanted to just sit in the corner where things were sane and not go back out onto the floor. Trying to find somewhere to rest her eyes, she glanced up.
“Was that stain always there?” she asked, studying a faded yellow blotch that covered three of the ceiling tiles.
“Yes,” Basil said.
“I don’t think it was,” she said.
“It’s faded,” Basil pointed out. “So it can’t be new. Mystery solved.”
Amy had a nagging sense that he was wrong. Earlier in the evening, when he was quoting from chapter three of Some Assembly Required: My Life in Retail by Tom Larsen, Amy could remember rolling her eyes toward the heavens and counting the ceiling tiles. She had counted to one hundred twelve before stopping, and none of them had been stained.
“Let’s go,” Basil said. “I need to deal with this Matt and Trinity situation.”
“It’s hardly a situation,” Ruth Anne said.
“Yes, it is,” Basil said. “It is most definitely a situation.”
But before they could take further action, the situation came clattering down the hall to them. Trinity burst through the door, whooping loudly, waving a camera in one hand.
“I got a ghost!” She ran around the break room, leaping, swinging her arms wildly, waving them over her head, dancing backward. “I got a ghost! I got a g
host! I got a ghosty, ghosty, ghosty ghost!”
“Stop!” Basil shouted. “You are way out of line! You shouldn’t even be here!”
“It’s not a ghost,” Matt panted, arriving in the doorway, dripping with sweat. “Someone got through the partners’ entrance. He’s here in the store with us. Right now.”
“You guys can’t do this,” Basil said. “You can’t just run around and act crazy. There are liability issues. If Pat knew about this, he’d fire you on the spot.”
“We can show him my footage,” Trinity said. “Because I got footage and it’s amazing.”
“It was not a ghost,” Matt repeated. “Ghosts don’t—that’s not how they work.”
“Stop it!” Basil shouted, and this time Trinity finally stopped dancing. “I am not in the mood. Tomorrow morning, after Corporate leaves, we are going to have a serious coaching about your future at Orsk.”
“My future is Ghost Bomb,” Trinity told him. “Because we are definitely getting green-lit with this footage. It is going to blow your mind.”
“Well, I don’t know about anyone else,” Ruth Anne said, “but I’d like to see it.”
“You’re embarrassing yourself,” Matt said to Trinity. “It’s not a ghost. Someone is hiding in the store.”
“The only person who’s going to be embarrassed is you,” Trinity said. “I know it’s a ghost because I saw him and he went right by me and I got him on tape. You don’t think he’s a ghost because you’re a jealous butthole.”
“Ghosts don’t exist,” Matt snapped. “They’ve never existed. They didn’t exist yesterday, they don’t exist today, and they’re not going to exist tomorrow. They’re made-up bedtime stories for mouth-breathers who are scared of dying and you’re too smart to believe in them!”
His statement hung in the air like something that absolutely, positively could not be taken back. Trinity looked as though she’d been slapped.
“I mean,” Matt said, stammering, “I guess they could exist, but I don’t think this was one.”
“Screw off,” Trinity said, turning her back on him. “You want to see my ghost, Ruth Anne? Come here and take a look.”
Trinity had the camera open and was rewinding the footage. Against her better judgment Amy drifted over to watch. Lines of static crackled, and then the film slowed to normal speed. On the screen was one of the EMF meters, sitting in the middle of the massive slab of a Frånjk dining room table surrounded by eight chairs. The shot zoomed out until the EMF meter was just a little white dot, then the camera moved toward it, generating a slasher-movie point-of-view effect as it rocked from side to side.
Trinity’s voice, tinny and electronic, squeaked out of the camera’s speaker. “The punishments of the penitents were designed to redeem their souls. Even today, this Orsk superstore echoes with the cries of the dead.”
“Are you narrating?” Amy asked.
“I told her not to do that,” Matt said.
“No one’s listening to you, Matt,” Trinity said.
The camera panned across the room display as it approached the dining table. It passed one of the “Orsk: Our Home Is Forever” posters that listed all the environmentally friendly materials used to make the Frånjk line. It panned past a human figure standing in the bedroom door. Then it panned past a set of Rimmeyob shelves. Around her, Amy felt everyone stop breathing. Her legs went numb.
Slowly, the camera panned back toward the bedroom door, but it was too late. A shadow rushed out and the lens went black. The camera rocked up and flipped over, and light fixtures streaked across the frame.
“Did you see?” Trinity exclaimed. “He came right at me! He was freezing cold and brushed past me, and I tripped over one of the chairs.”
“He jumped you,” Matt said.
“He was trying to communicate!” Trinity said.
The footage did a flip and suddenly they were looking at the back of a man running down the Path toward Kitchens. Amy caught a glimpse of a dark blue shirt and white tennis shoes before he dove behind an island countertop.
“You see?” Matt asked. “He’s wearing sneakers. What kind of ghost wears sneakers?”
“Oh, my God,” Amy said. “I’ve seen this guy! He was here this morning when I got to work. I saw him standing in Bedrooms.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Basil asked.
“Because I’m not Loss Prevention, okay?” Amy said. “It’s not my job.”
“ ‘See Something, Say Something,’ ” Basil said. “It’s right there on page thirty-six of the employee handbook. You should know better, Amy.”
Amy ignored him. “This is the guy,” she said. “The graffiti in the bathroom. The poop on the Brooka. This is totally the guy!”
“He’s not a guy,” Trinity said. “He’s a ghost.”
“He’s not a ghost!” Matt said.
Trinity turned on him. “Have you been lying to me this entire time? You said you believed in ghosts—but now that I’ve finally got clear footage, you say he’s not a ghost?”
“Have you even been listening to what I’ve been saying?” Matt asked.
“No,” Trinity said. “Because everything you’ve said has been quitter talk. We came here to shoot footage of ghosts and we are not leaving until we shoot footage of ghosts. The end.”
“Both of you! Stop it!” Basil shouted.
His voice echoed off the walls of the tiny room. Everyone stopped.
“This is not a slumber party!” he snapped. “I’ve got two partners who broke a lock to film a TV show in my store. I’ve got a vandal writing graffiti and defecating on furniture. And in”—he checked his watch—“six hours, a Consultant Team is showing up and this place has to look pristine, this situation has to be resolved, and Pat has to get a clean bill of health from Regional, or we will all be submitting our résumés to the Ikea in Pittsburgh. Do you understand?”
Everyone silently took in his assessment.
“First things first,” Basil said. “We find this guy.”
“This ghost,” Trinity said.
“Not a ghost,” Matt hissed back.
“Cut it out,” Basil said. “We’re going to stick together and we’re going to scour the store from one end to the other. And when we find him, we’re going to figure out what to do with him. And then I’m going to figure out what to do with the two of you.”
“How’re you going to find him?” Amy asked.
“I don’t know,” Basil said. “Maybe we form a line and walk the store in a grid.”
“There he is,” said Trinity.
“Or we start in the center and walk out in widening circles,” Matt said.
“He’s right there,” Trinity said.
“Maybe if we got up high, we could look over the walls and get a better view of the store and break it down into sectors and do it that way,” Basil said.
“Or we could go where he is,” Trinity said.
“And you know that how?” Basil asked, annoyed.
“Because I’m looking at him,” Trinity said.
They all turned to follow her gaze.
The flat-screen TV hanging in the corner had been tuned to CNN, but now it was showing footage shot on a consumer-model video camera. The image was blown-out and blurry, with no CNN logos or news crawls. It appeared to be the feed from a security camera. The image was underlit, but it was definitely showing the Showroom floor, somewhere on the border between Bedrooms and Dining Rooms.
“There,” Trinity said, walking over and touching the screen.
They all saw it. Sticking out from around the side of a Kjërring shelving unit was a man’s leg. All they could see were his pants from the knee down, a bare ankle, and a dirty sneaker. While they watched, his leg slipped out of sight behind the Kjërring. The movement was so startling that Amy took a step back. Everyone looked at Basil. In the face of something so unsettling, they needed a leader. Basil sensed the change and rose to the occasion.
“Okay,” he said. “We’re going to
Dining Rooms.”
“How’d security footage get on TV?” Amy asked.
“I have no idea,” Basil said. “But as far as unanswered questions go, that’s way down on my list. Right now, we’ve got someone in the store and we need to go … talk to him. See who it is. You know, deal with this.”
“Just give me a second to swap batteries,” Trinity said, opening her backpack.
“You aren’t coming,” Basil said.
“Not a chance,” Trinity said.
“He’s right, Trinity,” Matt said. “This guy already came at you once. Let us handle him.”
“You’re not coming, either,” Basil said.
“Ha!” Trinity laughed.
“You can’t lock us in here,” Matt said. “There’s not even a door.”
“Then we’ll escort you to your vehicle,” Basil said.
“We need to get our stuff. It’s expensive.”
Basil looked very tired.
“Excuse me,” Ruth Anne said, “I don’t mean to stick my nose in your business, but maybe we should go find this man before he hides again? And there is safety in numbers. Maybe we should all stick together for now?”
“How long ago did you shoot this footage?”
“About fifteen minutes,” Matt said.
“All right,” Basil said. “We’re sticking together until we find this guy. And bring your camera in case we need to document anything for Pat. Just to prove I did everything correctly.”
Moments later the group followed Basil out of the break room. Amy didn’t want to go out on the floor, but she didn’t want to be alone, either. She split the difference by hanging back as far as possible.
Basil stopped outside the women’s restroom.
“You said something about graffiti?” he asked.
“It’s inside,” she said.
They all followed Basil into the bathroom, with Amy bringing up the rear. For a moment, none of them could even speak. The walls were covered with scratches, as if someone had taken a chisel and carved them from floor to ceiling. Every inch of the industrial yellow paint was marked, chipped, chopped, scratched, gouged, defaced.
Horrorstor: A Novel Page 6