Back in his bag, he dug to the bottom and removed his holster and gun. He removed his jacket and fastened the holster around his shoulder and chest, then placed his jacket back on. He would not be caught unable to protect himself. Once his jacket was buttoned back up, he checked in the mirror to make sure that his gun wasn’t making a bulge. He didn’t need to go and unintentionally advertise to everyone that he was carrying.
After confirming that his weapon was hidden, Bill headed down to the lobby. Again, no sign of any customers or employees. The camera he had placed in the plant was still there. It was hidden, but he knew exactly where to look. He rang the bell on the counter and waited.
“Hello?” he called out. “Come on! Maurice? Hello?”
He heard a noise from behind him. When he turned his head to look, the automatic doors of the lobby were closing as if someone had just gone or come through. Bill took a few steps back to see if someone was in the parking lot or lobby. Seemingly as soon as his eyes were off the front desk, he heard a familiar voice behind him.
“Can I help you, sir?”
“Jesus Christ, Maurice. How do you do that?” Bill asked turning to the front desk. “I should really be used to that by now.”
Maurice just chuckled at Bill’s comment and then stood silently, waiting for Bill to respond.
After a few seconds of awkward silence, Bill finally said, “Do you guys have a pool here? I looked around but couldn’t see one. I wanted to take a dip before bed.”
“Yes and no.”
“Which is it? You can’t have a pool and not have a pool. It can’t be both.”
“Yes, we have one. No, you can’t use it,” replied Maurice. “It is down that hall there, then to the right, but there was an accident a few weeks ago and it’s closed.”
“Accident?”
“Yes, sir. Someone drowned and it was closed down for the investigation and cleaning, but never reopened. Management says they plan to get to it eventually, but for now it’s off-limits.”
“Really, someone drowned? Don’t you have a lifeguard on duty?”
“Yes, when the pool is open. Not at 2am. He broke in. He was drunk and fell, banged his head, and drowned. Made a hell of a mess, as you can imagine.”
“Wow. Okay, sorry to hear that. I guess I’ll just watch some TV and hit the hay. Good night, Maurice.”
“Have a good night, sir.”
Bill headed back to his room, closing and locking the door behind him. No sooner did he turn on the TV than a knock came at the door.
“Who’s there?” Bill called out.
Without an answer, he got up and went to look through the peephole. The hallway was empty. He began heading back to the bed when another knock came. Having only taken a few steps from the door, he hurried back and threw it open without checking the peephole. This time, however, it led to an unexpected outcome. Standing in front of him was Sara.
Eight
Not long after Sara’s uncomfortable conversation with the stranger on the plane, they had landed safely and she had made her way through the airport to the rental car agency. When she explained to the agent that she was unfamiliar with the area, the agent offered her a vehicle with GPS. She was far more concerned with finding Jeff and Bill than the few extra dollars the GPS option would add to the cost, so she gladly agreed.
The ride out to the hotel was fairly short and the parking lot seemed unusually empty. Perhaps, she thought to herself, it was just an off-peak time between check-out and check-in. She had no idea what make and model vehicle Bill was driving these days, let alone the color, so she parked and tried to call his cell one more time. The call went straight to voicemail, much to her dismay, so she decided to head in and ask for him at the desk.
Inside, she found the hotel lobby was classically decorated with artwork, woodworking, and furniture all reminiscent of the 1950s. Sara also noted that she was also the only person present. At the counter stood a typical service bell that one might expect on the counter of a hotel or post office. A few rings of the bell and calling out yielded no response. Sara turned and walked away from the desk toward the nearest hallway, hoping she would maybe find a maid or maintenance worker, when a voice from behind called out to her.
“Can I help you, ma’am?”
Startled by the presence of a voice when just a second before there was no one around, Sara jumped ever so slightly and put her hand on her chest.
“Sorry to frighten you, ma’am. Can I help you with something?”
“Oh, you didn’t frighten me,” Sara said turning around. “You sure did startle me though. I thought I was alone here.”
“Well, I have been known to sneak up on people. Are you checking in?”
“No. Actually, I’m visiting someone. A friend of mine who’s in town. Bill Anderson.”
“Oh yes, Mr. Anderson. Room 203. Upstairs, end of the hall.”
“Thanks,” said Sara as she walked off and headed toward the elevator.
Halfway across the lobby, a voice behind her spoke faintly, “Mom, get out of here.”
She recognized the voice as her son Jeff. Sara spun around but the lobby was still vacant. The only other person present was the desk clerk. It couldn’t have possibly been him, she thought.
“Did you say something?” Sara asked.
“No, ma’am,” replied Maurice.
She didn’t want to risk exposing her intentions, so she continued toward the elevator. She pressed the button and the doors opened instantly. When she stepped inside, she poked her head out and gave a quick look in both directions to make sure Jeff wasn’t standing there. She knew he wouldn’t be, but she couldn’t help but look anyway.
Sara reached the second floor in a matter of seconds. However, instead of the doors opening, the power inside the elevator went out and then the emergency lights came on. Nervously, she reached over and began mashing on the buttons. Surely one of them would trigger the doors to open, she thought.
“Hello? Help! I’m stuck in here!” Sara yelled out while pounding on the doors.
“They can’t hear you scream,” said a voice behind her calmly.
Sara screamed and turned to see who was speaking. She was alone when she got in. The thought of someone being in there with her now scared her. How was it possible? She didn’t believe in ghosts, but an experience like this was enough to make her question her beliefs. When she turned and confronted the voice, she saw Jeff standing in the back corner of the elevator.
“Jeff? Is that really you?” she asked.
“You shouldn’t have come,” he replied.
“What happened to you? Where have you been? We’ve been trying to find you. Why didn’t you answer your phone or call?”
“You shouldn’t have come,” he repeated, as he took a step forward.
“Jeff, honey, what happened? Are you alright?”
“You shouldn’t have come. They can’t hear you scream.”
Sara wondered why Jeff kept repeating himself, but she was so excited to see him again. She rushed toward him with her arms open to give him a hug, but instead of embracing him, she passed through him and wound up bumping into the wall of the elevator. Confused, she turned to look at him, but he was gone just as mysteriously as he had appeared.
“Jeff?” she called out.
A second later the power in the elevator came back on and the doors automatically opened on the second floor. She stepped out and looked all around, perplexed, unsure of what just happened. Was that really Jeff or her subconscious playing tricks on her? Was it a ghost? If it was a ghost, did that mean Jeff was dead? The very thought of it caused her eyes to tear up. Sniffling, she pulled a tissue from her purse and dabbed them dry. She was having trouble thinking straight when suddenly she realized that Bill’s room was only a few doors away. She threw the tissue in a nearby garbage can and continued down the hall to Bill’s room.
Standing in front of Room 203, Sara knocked on the door. She could hear movement inside and a moment later th
e door opened. Bill was standing there with a look of shock and confusion.
Nine
“What the hell?” asked Bill.
“Good to see you too,” replied Sara.
“Is it really you? Why are you here?”
“We needed to talk and you weren’t answering your phone. Plus, I felt helpless and I wanted to assist in finding Jeff.”
“My phone never rang,” said Bill. “I’ve had it with me the whole time.”
“Do you really want to argue or do you want to ask me in?”
“Sorry. Come in, we need to talk.”
Sara went inside and Bill closed and locked the door behind them.
“Bill. I’m going to tell you something that will seem crazy. I saw Jeff in the elevator.”
“You did? Was he alright? Why isn’t he with you now?”
“This is the crazy part. He just appeared and disappeared like a ghost.”
“You’re right. That does seem crazy and on any normal day, I would call you such, but I’ve seen some weird things since arriving,” said Bill. “I planted some hidden cameras around and one of them was left on my doorstep while I was out for dinner.”
“So you didn’t hide them very well.”
“Apparently not, or someone saw me hide them. Regardless, you need to see this video.”
Bill began playing the video for Sara of the empty hallway with the mysterious white-gloved hand grabbing the camera. Almost simultaneously, when the hand appeared on the screen, there was a knock on the door. He hit pause and they both looked at each other in stunned silence.
“Wait here,” he whispered.
He pulled his gun from its holster and approached the door, bending down a little to look under the crack. He could see someone standing there, so he checked the peephole. It was very dark, almost entirely black, and he couldn’t clearly make out who it was that was knocking. It was almost as if a hand was covering the lens.
“Who is it?” Bill asked.
Bill waved his hand to her and pointed. Sara got to her feet and moved up against the wall by the bed. It was out of view of the door, but was also closer and allowed her to better hear the conversation.
“Room service,” the voice replied.
“I didn’t order anything.”
“Complementary,” the voice simply said.
“No, thanks,” said Bill. “Take it back. I’m not hungry.”
“We’ll leave it by the door for you.”
“I said no, thanks. Take it back.”
“You’re welcome. Have a good night. Enjoy,” said the person behind the door, sarcastically.
The rattling and clinking of metal on metal near the floor could be heard, followed by silence. Bill listened carefully with his ear on the door as the footsteps faded down the hall. He looked into the peephole again and now saw an empty hallway and a silver object on the floor outside his room. He cracked the door open, leaving the security lock engaged. On the floor outside his room was indeed a silver-lidded room service tray.
“What is it?” Sara asked, out from hiding and standing in the little entryway behind Bill.
“Looks like a room service tray. I’m gonna check it out.”
Bill closed the door and unfastened the security lock, then opened the door again, cautiously and with gun-in-hand. A quick look down the hall revealed no one. He lifted the lid a crack to see under and then set it back down. He sighed.
“What?” asked Sara.
Bill picked up the tray and brought it in the room, relocking the door behind him.
“What I was afraid of,” replied Bill.
He lifted the lid off the tray to reveal another one of his hidden spy cameras.
“It’s the camera from the lobby. Guaranteed,” said Bill.
“That can’t be good.”
“No. Someone knows I’m here investigating and has been watching me.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know yet, but it’s probably whoever is responsible for Jeff’s disappearance.”
Bill went to the desk and picked up the room phone, dialing 0.
“Hello, front desk, Maurice speaking.”
“This is Bill Anderson in 203. Room service just dropped off a tray to my room and—”
“I’m sorry, sir, you must be mistaken. We don’t have room service.”
“Well, someone dropped off a room service tray to my room.”
“Containing food?” asked Maurice.
“No,” replied Bill. He thought carefully about his next words. He didn’t want to reveal to Maurice that he had hidden cameras in the hotel. “It was empty.”
“Why would someone deliver a tray of nothing to your room?”
“So you don’t know anything about this?”
“No, we don’t have room service, sir, as I just told you. Maybe someone’s playing a joke on you.”
“Must be. Thanks anyway, Maurice,” replied Bill.
He promptly hung up the phone and turned to look at the camera. Sara saw the extreme concern on his face. She almost didn’t need to ask Bill what the response had been. From hearing his side of the conversation, it was easy to assume.
Without a word to Sara, Bill connected the second camera to his laptop and began playback of the video. Same as before, the first few minutes were uneventful. Suddenly, the video turned completely black for about ten seconds and then became brighter. A white-gloved hand could be seen releasing its hold around the lens. It looked similar to the hand he had seen in the video from the first camera; however, this time the hand was only releasing the camera.
Once the hand was out of the scene, the video revealed a man sitting on a wooden chair, similar to what would be used in a country-style kitchen. The man’s ankles were tied to the legs of the chair. His arms were wrapped behind the back of the chair, most likely also tied. His head flopped forward as if he was unconscious.
Off-screen, there was an incoherent shout; neither Bill nor Sara could tell if it was even in English. Whatever it was, it caused the man in the chair to lift his head and look at the camera, which then appeared to be carried closer to zoom in.
“Jeff!” yelled Sara.
Jeff was obviously beaten. His face was covered in bruises and his lip was bloody. His clothes were ripped and tattered.
“You shouldn’t have come. They can’t hear you scream,” said Jeff on the video. He sat silent for a moment and then repeated the exact phrase, adding one more sentence to the end, “They won’t help you.”
A white-gloved hand, as before, reached in and closed around the screen, ending the grim interview.
“Sara? I don’t know how to tell you this, but something’s seriously wrong with this whole video.”
“What do you mean? Jeff’s probably still alive. I’m going to kill the bastards that did this when I find them.”
“No, not that. This camera… it doesn’t record sound.”
Ten
Sixty years ago — 1953
The construction workers labored away under a hot sun without a hint of clouds to provide a much needed respite. They had been at it since 6am and were hoping to get the hardest part done before the afternoon came. It was one of the hottest days of the summer, almost a record-breaker. The foundation needed to be dug by the end of the day to keep on schedule and the machine that did most of the hard work had failed. The foreman was adamant about sticking to the schedule so he demanded they finish the last few feet with shovels.
With only a few more inches left to remove, Paulie’s shovel made a metallic clanging sound when thrust into the soil. Puzzled, he lifted it out and slammed it down again, repeating the sound.
“Hey Dave!” he shouted. “Come ova’ here and check this out.”
Dave laid down his shovel and headed over to where Paulie was standing. “What’s up, Paulie?” he asked.
“Check this out.”
Paulie repeatedly lifted his shovel and slammed it into the ground in several areas within a two-foot diameter. Each
time it produced a solid metallic clang.
“What’cha think it is?” asked Paulie.
“I don’t know, but whatever, it’s gotta be removed. It’s in the way. Go get me the sledge.”
Paulie hustled over, grabbed the sledgehammer, and handed it to Dave. With a large lumberjack swing, Dave slammed the sledge down into the center of the area. A loud bang and what sounded like broken glass followed. The two men stood staring at the ground.
“What the hell is that shit?” asked Paulie.
The other workers began to gather around to see what made the noise. When the foreman peered out his window and realized no work was being done, he grabbed his hard had and stormed out of his office angrily. Yelling and cursing, he rushed down the hill toward the group of men.
“What’s the problem here? I’m not paying you assholes to stand around!” the foreman yelled.
“Dave and Paulie found something in the ground,” one of the workers replied.
“So dig it up and keep going. I told you guys this needs to be done today.”
“Yeah, but you gotta see this. It looks like blood. How’s there blood on it when it was covered by dirt two minutes ago?” asked Dave.
“It’s not blood. I don’t even have to go down there to tell you morons that. Just dig it up and keep going,” said the foreman.
“No way. I ain’t going anywhere near that thing. Fire me if you want,” said Dave.
The other men all nodded and voiced their agreement.
“Fine, for the sake of speeding things up, I’ll dig it out and you ladies can finish. Step aside!”
The foreman pushed his way through the men and grabbed the shovel from Paulie. All the workers moved back, well away from the object and their furious boss. He slammed the shovel along the edge of the object and began prying it up, pushing so hard that the wooden handle of the shovel snapped off the metal head.
“Aarrrggh!” yelled the foreman.
Frustrated, he kicked the object. The blood-like liquid it was covered with slid a bit and touched his shoe. It immediately sprung to life and moved onto his ankle, then his leg, slithering almost like a serpent.
The Foreman Page 3