Page 50 of No Surrender
A van pulled up with the forensic team, including a crime photographer, to record everything they found.
Vic glanced around, ensuring that everyone was in place. “Let’s go.”
He’d swung by the precinct to pick up the warrant, which he’d presented to the landlord for the key to the closed-off second floor. The landlord had sworn that the owner of the T-shirt shop had no access to the rest of the building and that no one had been upstairs in many years.
Vic figured that the owner had a bad case of denial or was intentionally clueless. Scratches around the lock made it clear that someone had picked it repeatedly—and recently. While he doubted that the building’s owner had any idea of the gruesome secrets in the old attraction, lax security was clearly the norm.
Two squad cars had taken over for the night shift, providing backup. One team stayed on the street, while two uniforms stepped up to accompany Vic and the others through what was now the storage area of the gift shop, through a door that led to what remained of the shuttered attraction. Once they had explained what was going on, the T-shirt shop opted to close for the day, a small mercy.
“This isn’t going to be a normal bust,” Vic told the group. “We’ll sweep the space, but what’s up there isn’t likely to be anything regular bullets are going to stop. Gloves and booties, everyone. Body cams, too.”
He saw the skepticism on the faces of the officers and the forensics squad. Everyone knew Vic and Ross worked with a psychic and solved ghost cases, but that didn’t mean they completely believed the stories.
They’re going to get a crash course.
“Take these.” Simon opened his backpack and handed out hex bags. “Don’t open them. Keep them in your pocket where you can wrap a hand around them if things get weird. They’ll help to protect you.”
“Define weird,” Officer Jackson said.
“You’ll know it when you see it,” Ross replied.
“Keep these where you can grab them fast,” Simon continued, handing out large salt shakers and short pieces of rebar. “Salt and iron repel ghosts. They’ll come back, but you can buy yourself time.”
Finally, he pulled a shotgun from the back seat of Ross’s car and filled his pockets with shells, then handed off more to Vic, who did the same.
“I thought you said we couldn’t shoot what’s up there,” Officer Mason questioned.
“I said regular bullets weren’t going to help,” Vic answered. “Those aren’t buckshot.”
“Rock salt,” Simon told them. “A blast will drive off a bad spirit for a little longer. The victims’ ghosts are not our enemies. It’s Thompson’s spirit we need to watch out for. He was a murdering son of a bitch in life, and death hasn’t improved anything.”
Vic saw skepticism on the other men’s faces. He had been there himself and knew how hard he’d been to convince.They’ll find out.
“Spectral energy often fries electronics,” Simon warned. “So don’t be surprised if your body cams don’t work right or any recordings are damaged. Just so you know.”
Simon looked to Vic and Ross. “Stay close. When Thompson makes his move, he’ll come at me. I’ll be busy trying to send him off and protect the other spirits. Dante will run interference, but it might not be enough. You’ll have to cover me. I can’t blast and banish at the same time.”
He raised his head and looked at the others. “When that happens—the rest of you need to stay out of the line of fire.”
Vic and Ross led the way with guns and flashlights in hand. Simon and Gordon came next, followed by the two officers. The forensic team waited outside for the all-clear to proceed upstairs.
“In the old days, the entrance to the castle was through the area where the shop is now,” Gordon told them, remembering. “Vampire’s Castle was a hot ticket for the weekend—especially around Halloween. It ran all year long. The displays never changed, so to mix things up they had different live acts in the lobby. Magicians, spooky bands, contortionists—everything was a little dark, twisted, and weird.”
“And the teens loved it as much as their parents hated it,” Ross said.
“Oh, you’d better believe it,” Gordon responded. “The thing is, we knew we were never in danger, even when the frights or the people in costumes made us scream. We thought we were safe. Guess that wasn’t exactly true.”
“Thompson did his thing long after the castle closed,” Vic said. “We think he worked here as a ticket-taker in college, so he knew the building well. When it closed, and no one was using the upstairs, he saw a golden opportunity.”
“And Judd?”
“He was a part-time janitor, so he not only knew the building—this is where he might have first met Thompson,” Ross said.
Vic knew that Simon heard the conversation, but he appeared to be focused on his gift and any forewarning it might provide. Even with the lights on, the old bulbs overhead barely chased away the shadows. Simon’s abilities could warn him that danger lay ahead and let him sense the restless spirits and feel the psychic taint left behind by fear, pain, and great evil.
The landlord assured them that the power still worked. Ross threw the master switch while Vic covered him, revealing a strange tableau.
“What the everlasting fuck are we looking at?” Vic muttered, turning slowly to take in the bizarre sight.
