Page 7 of Chasing Ghosts
“And cut!” All three of us look over at Drake, standing behind Tray. “That looked great, by the way. I can’t wait to get this raw footage to the guys back in the editing booth for promo stuff. The two of you researching the history by day and looking for ghosts by night is going to be ratings gold.”
“Oh, no, I…” I look from Mac to Drake and back again. “I’m not…”
“We already have too many people on the team…”
“Nonsense.”
“I’ve picked my team…”
“Then you should know how good the two of you look together already.”
“I’ve not signed the proper papers…” I start to say because Mac seems to be losing, but even I’m shut down.
“Do the show or there is no show.”
My eyes widen, and I turn to look at Mac. Surely he can do something to stop this. Drake walks away and I forget about trying to maintain professionalism. I reach out for his hand. “Do something! Tell him…tell him I…”
Beside us, Roxie starts laughing -cackling really. “You’re on the team now, Cori. Welcome to Chasing Ghosts, girl.”
“We don’t have time for this. We have to get up to that room and figure out what is going on. Let’s go!”
The look he gives me tells me it’s not a subject he wants to broach when everyone is around, but I will be hearing about it later. It’s almost like I can hear his thoughts. That’s strike two.
Wonderful. I made a complete ass out of myself last night, and today this happens. The last thing I want is to have Mac despise me. Last night, I was standing in the bathroom brushing my teeth, and when I glanced up at the mirror, a woman was standing behind me. I thought it might have been someone with the filming crew, but when I turned around, I came nose to nose with a dead girl about my height and build.
Her dark hair was dripping wet, and her clothes hung from her body like she’d just fallen in the water…or was pushed. Her skin had a blueish tint to it that was shocking and wrong. I stumbled back out of the room only to find a scary-looking man-shaped shadow standing on the other side of my bed. The dead girl’s voice echoed through my head, telling me to run. I went on autopilot as the man started to grow larger and taller until the next thing I knew, I was out in the hall being held by Mac.
It just had to be Mac. Of all the people who could have been standing there, it just had to be him. And he just had to smell the way he did, all sexy and…a hint of wild. His scent gives him away more than he would like. As much as he likes to present the picture of command and calm, there is something wild about him that comes out in his scent and in the way his eyes twinkle sometimes when he laughs.
And I’ve pissed him off. Doubly now.
For the rest of the day, I try to make myself scarce, especially around Mac. Even during the night when we start shooting, I make sure to hang back and not speak as much. They complete a whole list of things to do at a haunted house, EMF meters, spirit boxes, REM pods, and digital voice recorders. We have a couple of hits on the REM pods, but otherwise, nothing is going on. A REM pod is a proximity detector that lights up when a spirit or a human is standing close to it. Some of the equipment malfunctions, but other than that, the house is strangely quiet.
After everything, they finally wrap up the night around four in the morning. I am so drained, I barely make it to bed before I’m asleep. But I don’t find peace in sleep. My dreams are drenched in death and fear. I toss and turn and jerk awake multiple times before finally falling into a deep sleep. When I open my eyes next…I’m standing in the hallway, facing a door not my own.
I look around at the dark corridor in stunned silence. How did I get here? Why did I leave my room? What does it mean that I…sleepwalked my way to…oh God! I realize whose door I’m at and immediately take a step back. Why? Why did I have to end up here? Right outside Mac Temple’s door.
I turn and flee back to my room, but I don’t go back to bed. Instead, I sit up staring out the window, waiting for dawn to come while trying to make sense out of what I saw while I was dreaming. Everything was hot, and people were standing all around me, sweat dripping off their bodies. They kept chanting and throwing their heads back like they were having some sort of…religious experience…son of a bitch! I think I just glimpsed the cult.
Logically, I know it was probably brought on by my research, but having that experience doesn’t really consider that logic, especially when there is a sense of fear and dread and a booming voice crying out to repent for the sins I’ve committed. A shiver works its way through me as I keep circling back to what made me leave my bed and go to that particular door.
I have never done that before. Sleepwalking wasn’t one of my problems before I came to the island, and definitely wasn’t on my spooky-shit-to-experience-bingo card for the year. And who can I tell? Who can I share this with? Who can I turn to?
I came to the island to find answers, but all I’ve found so far is this overwhelming sense of being alone with no answers in sight.
Chapter Seven
Mac
The second night of our investigation better give us something better than what we got last night, since we got pretty much nothing. We start slow, but Cori comes up to me about ten minutes after the cameras start rolling.
“I’ve found something.” Her cheeks are pink and her eyes are sparkling as she shows me a printout of some court records. “You remember how you suggested I look into the court documents to find the cult leader?”
I nod and try to keep my attention focused on what we are supposed to be doing and not completely on Cori. I probably should remember the camera is watching and not stare at her like I’m a starving man and she’s a steak.
“I found him.” I look down at the papers she’s handed me. “He was arrested twice for bigamy and spent some time in jail in…”
A thud overhead halts what she was going to say, and we both look up. Over the walkie-talkie, my video editor’s voice breaks the heavy silence.
