Page 31 of Into the Dark

She walked over to their laptop. “We started off in the creeper’s ward on the fourth floor. You’ve already heard the audio. I’d say that was our best evidence for the evening, but we had good results with the Dead Ringer on the third floor.”

“The what?” Oscar asked.

Zeek jumped in. “It’s really cool! It’s a bell, right, mounted on top of this box. There’s an EMF reader rigged into it out of sight, so it looks like an ordinary bell. That way it won’t confuse any ghosts who don’t know about modern technology.”

“That’s a good idea,” Oscar said. Nigel made a noncommittal noise beside him.

Adrienne brought up the video file. Even raw, the footage was good—both Adrienne and Zeek knew how to work a camera. On the screen, Adrienne explained how the Dead Ringer worked, then put it near the entrance of the patient room they’d chosen. She began to ask questions: “Is anyone here with us? If you are, can you ring that bell in the doorway?”

There was a brief moment of silence, but before she could ask another question, the bell rang in a soft, sweet pitch.

“Holy shit!” Zeek yelled on camera. “Did you see that?”

Oscar glanced at Chris and caught them mid eye-roll. Zeek’s reactions were a bit over-the-top, but Oscar was starting to believe they were genuine, not just a show he put on for viewers.

On the video, they did a brief back-and-forth with the bell, until the responses abruptly stopped.

“Look at the time stamp,” Tina said. “It stopped ringing the bell right when the wheelchair got shoved into the wall down in the south wing.”

“We couldn’t hear anything,” Adrienne said. “But maybe whatever we were talking to could.”

“Do ghosts communicate?” Zeek asked. “With each other, I mean?”

Dr. Lawson had remained silent for so long Oscar had almost forgotten she was there. “Sometimes,” she said. “Most are so wrapped up in their own trauma they don’t seem to acknowledge much else, but that doesn’t mean they’re incapable of doing so.”

“That’s really everything,” Adrienne said. “We did try some spirit-drawing with a planchette in the arts and crafts room, but…well, let me show you.”

She dug a piece of paper out of her backpack and passed it over. There was a continuous pencil line that first looped, then went off and drew… “Is that a chicken?” Oscar asked, holding it up and squinting.

“Turn it on its side,” Chris said. “See? Definitely a pig.”

Adrienne shot them a glare, as if suspecting they were making fun of her. “Anyway, that’s what we’ve gotten so far. Combined with your results, I think it’s safe to say this is the most active site we’ve ever been on.”

“Our viewers are going to. Lose. Their. Minds.” Zeek made a head-exploding gesture.

“Right.” Oscar bent to grab his backpack. “We should get going, unless there’s anything else…?”

There wasn’t. They all loaded up on the gear they were taking in, then stepped outside.

Oscar turned to Nigel. “Chris and I are going to the cemetery first, so we split up here.”

“Okay.” Nigel reached out and touched his arm. “Be careful. This nurse—Della Young—could be dangerous.”

“I know, which is why I wantyouto be careful.” Oscar planted a kiss on top of Nigel’s head. “You have a walkie-talkie—call me if anything goes wrong.”

“I will.” Nigel reluctantly stepped back, then turned to join Adrienne and Zeek. Oscar watched them until the yawning maw of the front doors swallowed them up.

Nigel trudged after Zeek and Adrienne. The only ghost-hunting he’d truly observed first-hand had been with Oscar and the others; mirror-work would be a new, and hopefully interesting, experience.

As they entered the asylum, Nigel sneezed—then doubled over as a cough tore its way unexpectedly out of his lungs.

“You okay?” Zeek asked worriedly.

“Just allergies.” Unless the congestion was morphing into a chest cold. Nigel took a deep breath—was there really something gathering in his lungs, or was he imagining it?

Adrienne shone her head lamp on the patch of mildew on the wall. It looked even bigger than it had this afternoon. “It’s a wonder we aren’t all sneezing our heads off,” she said. “God knows what’s in the air in a place like this. We’re probably sucking down asbestos.”

“You think so?” Zeek asked, worried.

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