Page 20 of Into the Dark

“Do we need to get out the salt?”

Salt was an ancient ward against ghosts, although, according to Nigel, no one really understood how it worked. “Not yet. It’s fading.”

After a long moment, the sense of an outside pressure against his mind eased, then disappeared. “And it’s gone.”

Nigel seemed reluctant to move his flashlight from the shadowy stairway door. “What does our friend in the chute think?”

A good question. Oscar turned his attention back to the metal hatch. “Do you know who that was?”

No reply.

“Do you like them?” Nothing. “Are you afraid of them?”

His only answer was silence.

Nigel fished out the travel packet of tissue he’d stuck in his pocket earlier and discreetly blew his nose as they approached the door to the stairway. Something had come through here—more, it had slammed the door in order to get their attention.

Had it frightened off the laundry chute ghost? Or had that spirit already expended what little energy it had in talking to them, and couldn’t have continued to answer anyway?

This was the problem with his chosen field of study: There were too many damn variables and almost no way to control them. As for direct measurements, temperature fluctuations and EMF readers were among the only tools they had, at least currently.

“Let’s be cautious on the steps,” Oscar said as they started up. “The spirit I sensed didn’t like us, and ghosts have been known to push people down stairs.”

“Do you think that’s what happened to the earlier team?” Chris asked, alarmed. “The guy Lawson said fell to his death? Should we warn Adrienne and Zeek?”

The walkie-talkies on their belts screeched. “Zeek left me his two-way radio in case I needed to call him and Adrienne,” Tina said. Nigel had forgotten she monitored everything over the remote feed. “I can let him know.”

“Thanks, Tina.” Chris seemed to relax slightly. Were they still carrying a torch for Adrienne, or just worried about someone they’d once cared for?

Their boots echoed eerily off the stairs, the metal cage rattling any time they brushed against it. When, they reached thechildren’s ward on the second floor, the PolterPal still sat where they’d left it on the floor of the common room/class room. Nigel had to admit, it did look somewhat unsettling in the beams of their flashlight.

“Let’s sit on the floor near the PolterPal,” Oscar suggested. “If we’re dealing with kids, we don’t want to be looming over them.”

Nigel lowered himself down a few feet from the doll. The floor was gritty from a mixture of flaking paint, dust, and god-knew-what else. Oscar did the same on the opposite side of the doll. Chris circled them slowly, filming all the while.

“We hear there’s a child here,” Oscar called. “Do you like to play?”

“Do you sense anyone?” Nigel asked him softly.

Oscar hesitated, then nodded. “I think so. They’re hiding, or shy, or just doesn’t want to come closer. At least not yet.” He looked around, then leaned over and snagged a dust-covered toy truck.

“Are these your toys?” he asked. “Can you move one and show me how to play?” He pushed it back and forth on the scarred wooden floor, as if demonstrating how to move it, then let it go.

The truck sat motionless.

“We brought something new for you to play with,” Oscar went on, undeterred. “This doll right here. You played with her earlier. Can you do that again, while we’re here?”

The PolterPal stared ahead with lifeless eyes, silent.

Oscar let out a sigh of frustration. “Let’s try the flashlight.”

The flashlight was a simple Maglite that twisted on and off. When set to the point just between on and off, it took only a small tap to change between states. Oscar stood up and put it on the common room windowsill, between the bars, then sat back down.

“Can anyone turn on that flashlight for me?” he asked. “Just tap it and it should come on.”

Once again, the ghost or ghosts refused to respond. After trying several more times, Oscar shook his head. “They don’t want to come any closer while we’re here. Let’s move on to the third floor.”

“Thank god.” Chris glared at the PolterPal.

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