Ghost Hunters, Pt. 24

(Just joining us? You may want to start at the beginning.)

JD quickly leaned forward and whispered to Dillon, "Get the recorder turned on! We want to capture as much of this as we can, at least the audio!"

Dillon moved in the dark doing something, and JD could only hope that he was turning the recorder on. He then whispered to both of them, "Get low and try to blend in with the bushes. If we don't interrupt this sequence, we may find something out here!"

The three of them lowered. The hushed whispers were still coming toward them from the side of the house, and gradually grew more clear as the invisible speakers approached.

"... he's frickin' late, that's all I'm sayin'," one of them hissed.

"He'll be here," the other snapped back. "He'd damned well better be if he knows what's good for 'im."

"I don' trust 'im," the other answered. "He's too jittery an' nervous, man."

"Just keep it down an' watch for 'im, he'll be here. If he chickens out, we'll deal with that later."

"We're risking a lot, asshole. You'd better be right."

"Just shut up and look for 'im."

The two figures fell silent, and JD peered silently back through the viewfinder of the camera. The fog was impenetrable; all he saw back was the gray-white sheet of fog.

"Damn," he whispered, barely audible. Wendy was hunched beside him, clutching his arm in both of hers. He could feel her trembling. He wished, for a moment, he had something comforting to say, but couldn't think of anything. He just watched instead.

"Where the fuck is he, dammit??" Again the voice rasped in the murk. The three huddled near the back of the yard couldn't see anything except flashes of silhouettes. There were no hard figures they could make out.

"Why don'tcha turn on the friggin' flashlight? Maybe he's lost in this pea soup shit."

"No, shithead, we don't wanna let everybody know where we are. Just keep watchin'."

Dimly, far off, there was a faint illumination.

"Here 'e comes now. Toldja he'd show."

"Over here, Jenkins," the other voice called softly.

"Him too?" a third voice spoke, not as quietly. It was familiar to the huddled trio in the bushes.

"Who's that?" the second voice spat back, terse, edged with danger.

"Brown, asshole. Where's Jenkins?"

"Brown? What the hell are you doin'?"

"I oughtta be askin' you that. I said where's Jenkins?"

"Look, Brown," the first voice spoke, "you're bein' stupid. Why don'tcha just go home and forget about this?"

"Gimme a break, Rick," Brown answered tiredly. "I told the cap I was bringin' this crap to a stop. I shoulda known you'd be in up to your fuckin' eyeballs."

"Don't be stupid, Brown," the second voice again. "You're gonna make trouble for all of us now? You coulda gotten in at the beginnin' but you wanted t'be an asshole. You think we're just gonna sit here an' let you ruin all o' us?"

"Can your crap, Migo," Brown hissed. "You gonna threaten me now? For what? -- not bein' an asshole an' doin' what you do?"

"Jenkins is in too, Brown," the voice belonging to Rick interjected. "You gonna ruin your own damn partner?"

"He shoulda known better'n to get involved with you fucks," Brown answered. "I hoped he didn't. If he did, well ... I guess I'll deal with that."

"You're a fuckin' RAT, Brown," the Migo voice whispered so harshly it was clear his teeth were gritted. "You ain't gonna screw all of us. We're ALL cops. You think we ain't all gonna stick together?"

"Yeah, I figgered you would," Brown said, "and I don' care. I'm doin' what's RIGHT, because it's RIGHT. And I'm takin' this shit down. ALL o' you."

"You fuckin' prick!" This from Migo again.

Suddenly there was a thump! and whoosh! -- JD strained into the murk to see what was happening but couldn't.

"You ... better be ... careful what ... you do, Migo," Brown's voice strained out, out of breath.

"You ain't bringin' NOTHIN' down, asshole."

There was a huge, clunking and hallow knock, and suddenly Brown's flashlight rolled into view, a faintly glowing disk casting a weak patch of light through the fog on the moist ground. Then a sickening crunch, and another, and a third. The three of them listening clandestine in the bushes and darkness winced at the sounds, nearly jumping each time it rang with a faintly metallic ring following the blows. JD knew this is what they'd witnessed the night before. It was out of sight but embedded in their minds.

A moment later the heavy pants of the attacker was all that could be heard.

"Sweet Jesus," the Migo voice came back. "Oh, sweet Jesus, we gotta get outta here!"

"I couldn't just let 'im leave, could I?? I hadda do SOMEthin'!"

"Christ, I think ya killed 'im, Stanton! I think I heard BONE!"

"I hadda do somethin' didn't I?? Huh??"

"Jesus!"

"What about Jenkins??" Stanton was panicking. "He's gonna be comin'! This wasn't supposta happen, man! Whatta we do??"

"C'mon, Stanton! We gotta get outta here! Fuck Jenkins, we gotta go!"

The sounds of two sets of footfalls retreated away from the yard, but the fog was too thick for JD to see if they went toward the gate or off toward another yard. He listened quietly, then stood, pulling Wendy up with him. He couldn't see either her or Dillon.

"God," he whispered, but it was almost a moan. "I ... I thought it would be less shocking this time somehow."

No one answered him.

For long moments they stood in the mist, expecting it to clear.

It didn't.

"JD? Why is the fog still here?"

"I ... I don't know."

"Dude ... more stuff's gonna happen. It ain't over yet."

"How do you know, Dill?"

"'Cause. That's what the fog means. Ain't it?"

"Uh ... well, so far, I guess so, yeah."

"So ... there's more."

"Dilly, how'd you get so smart?"

"I just figger if the fog's all about the ghosts, and when they're done an' all it goes away, it must not be over or it'd be ... goin' away. It ain't brain surgery or nuthin'."

JD shook his head. "I guess not. So we wait and see what happens now."

"What ... should we move or anything?"

"I -- I have no idea whatsoever."

"So ... we just kinda hang out an' stuff?"

"I guess so."

"Dude, that's boring."

"You think this has been boring?"

"Not th' other crap, jus' the waitin' crap. Y'know?"

"Well, not really. But then, I don't have the attention span of a goldfish."

"How d'ya know?"

"What?"

"You a goldfish?"

"Um ... not last I checked, no."

"Then how d'ya know what their 'tention span's like?"

"There's this really great stuff people use to figure things like that out. It's called 'science.' Maybe you've heard of it."

"Oh, y'mean the same stuff you tried to use t'splain all this stuff happenin' right here?"

"Just because I can't do it doesn't mean someone else couldn't have."

"Yeah, but all we got's YOU, dude."

"You guys, seriously -- is there something wrong with your brains? Because we're standing here, in a mystical fog, waiting for a GHOST to appear, you're bickering about ..."

"Shh!" JD interjected quickly, "Shh! Do you ... do you hear that?"

Softly, somewhere in the mist, there was a squeak, like a rusty unused hinge operating for the first time in decades.

JD moved forward, toward where he thought the house should be, trying to will his eyes to penetrate the dense vapor. He groped forward, hands tentatively in front of him trying to feel for the wall he knew would come at him. There was a second creaking of that hinge that snuck out of the fog to his ears, and he followed it, moving quickly but cautiously forward.

Suddenly there was a rush as the fog began to diffuse, to clear, and for a moment he could see. He was a scant few feet from the corner of the house, stopping quickly, and around the corner came the shadowy dark outline of a man, running past the house toward the fallen Brown's body, crumpled in a heap behind and to JD's left, the flashlight more clearly showing the scene. The dim shape of his body on the ground was covered by the new form, pressing its head down on his chest as it fell hard on one knee.

In a moment, the figure rose slightly and seemed to grope at the neck of the prone form, then pressed his head to the chest again.

Then there was a mournful wail, a sound from out of the fog as the form tipped its head and called into the mist, and it cut like a blade through JD's skin, rifling up his spine and making his hair stand on end. He shuddered violently, involuntarily, and pure, abject terror seized his heart and froze him in place. A scream of complete primal fear forced itself up from his diaphragm, slammed against the back of his throat and hit the back of his teeth, goose flesh rising over the entire surface of his body.

And then the fog raced past, shooting away into the dark and vanishing into the night. JD released his voice to hear only the slightest whimper come from what he thought would be a scream from the depths of his soul.

He shook violently, frightened to his very essence, staring in stark disbelief at the empty yard around them.

"I think I wet myself," he heard Dillon mutter.

Technorati Tags: fiction

Ready to go on to Part 25?

Ghost Hunters, Pt. 23

(Just joining us? You may want to start at the beginning.)

JD was animated and moving again. He wasn't sulking anymore, and the others knew that now he was onto something and would pursue the plan he was forming doggedly.

"Okay," he said, moving to his right, opposite the way they'd gone the night before when they went to investigate the shadow figure they'd seen. "Okay, I have an idea."

"JD, where are you going?" Wendy said, and she had to trot to catch up to him as he moved quickly around the corner of the big house.

"I'm going to go to the backyard. That's where the 'murder' took place last night. I want to be in position to see it this time, from the other side. I'm going to video tape it and not interfere in it -- and neither are you two -- and we'll see if we can get closer to the bottom of these events."

Dillon was jogging a bit to catch up. "Dudes! Don't leave ME out here! Jeez!"

"What're you going to do when you have the story on tape, hon? Go to the police and have them finally close this thing out?"

"No, no," JD said, slowing a bit as he watched the side of the house, one eye wary for the dense and rapid fog. "Nothing like that. I firmly believe the police know what took place out here that night, Wendy. There's no doubt in my mind that this case HAS been closed, and will NOT be reopened. I imagine some very embarrassing things would be discovered -- about the police, and perhaps beyond -- if this were to be reopened. So they're not going to be interested."

"Are you sure? I mean, it's been a long time."

"I know. And maybe you're right, but there's the fact that we have this all ... from a dead man. That's hard ... really hard to sell to the police, you know? I wouldn't listen. Would you?"

"Um ... well, I don't know ... but I see what you mean."

"Dude, I SO wouldn't listen. 'Sides, they wanted ol' Rob to take the fall 'cause the dude was gone. Nobody'd look at what went down anymore if he was the one did all the stuff, y'know?"

"I guess having their primary suspect for all the other stuff going on be dead was very convenient," she nodded.

"Well, they didn't know he was dead ... but they didn't look for that missing person very hard, I'd imagine."

"No, probably not."

"It was all a very nice little package, I'm sure. And by not having anything more happen up here after Robin Brown disappeared, it reinforced the idea that he was the guilty one. Even if he wasn't."

"What do you think? Do you think he was responsible?"

"Well, if that was Robin Brown we spoke to, he seemed resigned to the fact that backup wouldn't help him. Why would he feel that way?"

"Because someone was covering something up. But what?"

"I have no idea."

"Dude, maybe a lotta people were in on it an' stuff."

JD stopped, just beyond the corner of the big house, near the trees where the shadow play occurred the night before. He turned toward Dillon. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, say Robbie's a good guy. He's not doin' squat, 'cept tryin' t'stop the robbery crap happenin'. So, he finds out while he's doin' all that that his partner's a dirty cop. He's in on it. Robbie don' play ball, y'know? Wants to stay clean an' stuff. So he's not part o' the gang. Now what? They can't leave 'im alone t'rat 'em out, right? If there's other cops an' all that in on it, then he might bust 'em all. So, they gotta get rid of 'im. See?"

"Dilly, you're so good at this."

"Thanks. I watch Court TV, y'know?"

JD chuckled and shook his head. "You're a wonder. That's really involved though. How'd you come to that?"

"'Cause the parnter guy whacked 'imself, dude. You don't do that 'less there's somethin' buggin' ya, y'know?"

"Darren Jenkins didn't kill himself until years later, though. Maybe it was depression over the fact that he couldn't convince anyone he didn't have anything to do with his partner's disappearance."

"Hmm. Yeah, maybe. Or maybe he felt all bad an' shit 'cause he was the one that whacked 'im, or knew who whacked 'im."

Wendy looked back at JD. "JD? Back to you."

"Well," he sighed, "both are valid theories. Depression, or guilt? Either way, there was something troubling Darren Jenkins, and it bothered him so much he committed suicide. The fact that he did it here, in this yard, indicates it was absolutely related to Robin Brown's disappearance in some way."

"Yeah, and he probably didn't tell anyone around him what was going on, either."

"Well, even if he did, we'd have no way of finding them or of being sure that they'd tell US anything. We're just ... paranormal investigators. The most we'd get out of the witnesses of an actual crime would be ridicule and maybe, MAYBE, the local legend."

"Dude, paper said he was tryin' t'be mayor or somethin'. Could there be some stuff 'bout him in the paper 'round that time?"

"Maybe. But that would involve the library again, and I'm afraid it's far too late for that."

"Well, DUH, dork-ass. We gotta go tomorrow, but we can still look, right?"

"I think we did, but then, it never hurts to look again."

"I can come help this time." Wendy snaked her arms around one of JD's and held tightly. He smiled down at her.

"Okay. That'd be nice."

"Oh, damn, man -- MORE kissy-face crap?? Ugh."

"Well, if you're gonna be a poop you can just stay home, Dilly. I'll be more than happy to have JD all to myself. For a change." She pouted playfully at Dillon.

"Y'can't do that in the library, dudes, they arrest ya for that crap."

"Oh, you hush. Anyway, that's all tomorrow. What about tonight?"

"For tonight, we sit here and give this a little longer. If the time is that big a factor in this thing, then we probably missed it all. But there IS tomorrow night -- hopefully. We'll just have to wait and see. At least it's not cold out."

"Dude, I'm gonna get bored, ain't I?"

"Probably, yes."

"Aw, man ... why does this crap hafta be so dang boring, Dawg?"

"I don't find it boring, but -- I'm not you ... Cat."

Dillon looked at him bewildered. "Cat?"

"Didn't ... didn't you just call me dog?"

"Uh ... yeah, but ... nevermind, dude."

"Was that ... was that an inappropriate response?"

Dillon shook his head in disappointment.

"Okay," Wendy chuckled, "so we wait. How long do we wait? I mean, when're we going to know it's not going to happen again?"

"Well, it's already been longer than the break we had between the two events as it is. If the pace of the replay was set, and everything was time-triggered, we should have already started to see something. As it is, though, we're not dealing with an event that can be quantified that way, so we have to see if the 'ghost' is going to continue trying to ... live. I guess."

"Dude, do ghosts have watches, man?"

"Uh ... how would I know?"

"Well, y'keep sayin' all this crap's timed an' stuff, right?"

"Yes, time-triggered. At this time of the day, the events happen. At this time of the day, those events happen. That sort of thing."

"So ... if all this stuff hasta happen at a certain time, and this other crap's gotta happen at another time ... don'tcha think they all END at a certain time, too?"

"OH! Good point, Dilly. I bet they end at the same time every night too, lover. What time do you think that was?"

"Uh ... well, I don't know. Last night was a bit different. We ... I'd guess we've already been out here longer than we were yesterday."

"So dude -- think it's over?"

"If Robin Brown was the one attacked last night --"

"Dude, it was SO him, can the 'if' shit."

"-- then it probably all ends around the time he died. I would be willing to believe that's the case. He probably didn't die immediately from his head wounds. He would have died from a subdural hematoma, or blunt force trauma. It could have taken a while."

"'Less those goons came back t'finish 'im off."

JD froze. "What?"

"You said we didn't see the whole thing last night, right?"

"Right."

"So, maybe when we see all of it, we'll see 'em come back an' finish ol' Robbie off."

"Wow. That's ... interesting. What makes you think that?"

"'Cause Homes don' know he's dead an' stuff."

"Oh, Dilly! That's brilliant!"

"Pff. You said I wuddn't smart as him an' stuff. I ain't gonna letcha be nice an' shit NOW."

"Aww, I wasn't trying to hurt your feelings, Dilly," Wendy said and hugged him, then whispered loud enough for JD to hear, exaggerating the cupping of her mouth with her hand, "I just wanted JD to feel smart."

"You expect me t'fall fer all that bunk now, dude? No way. I'm so not huggin' you back."

Wendy squeezed him tighter. "Mmm! You're a cuddle bunny and you know it! You WANT to hug me! You HAVE to hug me! It's a compulsion!" She hugged harder.

"Naw, man, naw ... I don' play that way ... I don' ... aw, crap." He embraced her. She laughed genuinely.

"Dillon?"

"Yeah, dude?"

"That really WAS brilliant, you know."

"Can it, big guy. I'm so not gonna let you hug me like this."

"That's fine," JD said slowly, staring up, "because I think we're about to see more of the play."

"Holy crap, dude --"

"JD, is it ...?"

In a silent tide, the fog crashed down over them like a white tsunami and blanketed the entire world around them again in that murky, misty, gray veil that hid the truth within its abysmal depths.

In a moment the mist swirled to a stop, and JD noticed then that the position they were in hadn't changed.

"All right," he said softly, "this time, we should get it all."

"Dude, it's still off, man."

"What?"

"The ghost -- he's late now 'cause o' the other stuff we done. He might not finish it all."

"Damn. GOod point."

JD raised the camera, and turned it back on. All he could see in the viewer was the gray shroud hovering in the dark. He snapped open the little LCD screen, but it showed the same smoky mist swirling to a stop.

JD sighed. "Well, I still may not be able to record much but sound. Dillon, do you still have the recorder?"

"Uh ... I dunno."

"Could ... could you check, please?"

He could hear Dillon rustling around in his clothes, looking in pockets. "Ha! Dude! I DO have it!"

"Great! Now, when we start hearing voices, you need to record, okay?"

"Sure ... um ... how do I turn it on again?"

"Don't screw this up, Dillon."

"Press that big button two times, Dilly."

"Oh, right! Right! Press, press. ON. Got it."

"Pressing it a THIRD time will stop it, though. So don't do that, okay?"

"Gotcha. Only two."

"How ... how long, JD?"

"Not very long. Only as long as it took Robin Brown to get from the gate, back here. A few seconds."

"Dude. I so hope we're ready."

"Well ... as much as we ..."

They all fell silent as the sounds of voices began to carry softly, furtively, barely audible whispers deadened by the heavy fog.

"Someone's coming," JD whispered. "This is it."

Technorati Tags: fiction

Ready to go on to Part 24?

Ghost Hunters, Pt. 22

(Just joining us? You may want to start at the beginning.)

JD stood staring up at the clear night, the camera dangling uselessly from his hand. He was uncertain -- really, definitively uncertain -- of what was going on. For the first time, it sank in that he was involved in something he really didn't understand. He was completely lost, and the stark, jagged tree limbs that knifed down into the dimness at him were like accusing fingers pointing at him, mocking and taunting. The night seemed deathly still, the quiet itself nearly palpable in the darkness. He glanced left, and in the distance that lone street lamp stared with its baleful illuminated iris at him, watching safely in the distance for what he would do next.

The only thing he could think to do was sigh. It wasn't helpful, it got him no closer to the answers he thought he wanted, it didn't help him clear his head or think more clearly, and it wasn't productive toward his quickly deteriorating investigation. It was just all he could think to do.

So he sighed.

The night didn't respond to him. It sat motionless and mute, giving him the silent treatment. Beside him the others stood as solemn and static as he was. The tension was thick, their nerves jarred. His brain continued to work out possibilities, likely logical explanations in the background. In the fore, he was confused and distressed, even a little frightened. He'd lost any semblance of self-assurance he had. He felt like a child in a large and busy mall who'd lost his parent. Everything felt bigger, alien and scary. He wasn't ready to panic, of course, but it was kind of like being lost in a foreign city. He wasn't sure where to go and had no one around him he could ask for help.

"JD?" Wendy's soft voice was tight with fear and nerves. "Baby, what ... what do we ...?"

He looked at her and smiled weakly. "What do we do?"

She nodded.

"I have absolutely no idea."

She sank. "Oh. I thought ... maybe you ..."

"Sorry, Wen," he said humbly. "I've never been involved in, or seen, or heard of for that matter -- anything like this."

"Whoa, man," Dillon whispered. "This is ... this is WEIRD. I didn't expect NOTHIN' like this."

"Neither did I," JD concurred heavily. Then he hesitated. "Hey ... why aren't you freaking out?"

Dillon looked at him. "'Bout what?"

"About all of this," JD chuckled. "For less than this you've been on the verge of panic in the last day and a half. Why are you so calm now?"

Dillon tipped his head quizzically. "I ... y'know, I dunno. I should be all flipped an' shit, I guess. But it wasn't ... I dunno. It wasn't as bad as I thought. Dude didn't have a face all fulla worms an' crap, he didn't, like, scream like a demon or nothin' ... didn't even rattle shit an' go 'ooooh!' Nothin'. So, all in all, it wuddn't too bad, y'know? I guess it wuddn't scary as I thought it'd be."

Wendy moved and hugged him around the middle, laying her head on his chest. "You did good, Dilly."

"Heh, thanks," he said, hugging her back. "You didn't do too bad, either. How YOU holdin' up there, Einstein?"

JD smiled at him. "I'm certainly no Einstein. In this arena, I'm afraid I'm a bit over my head."

"Yeah? Well, don't worry, dude -- you'll get it. You just gotta settle down and fire up that big ol' brain o' yours."

He shook his head. He was flattered, but had nothing. No answers, no ideas, and no clue what happens next.

"Do ... do you think it'll happen again, JD?"

"I don't know, Wen. I wish I could tell you. I'm not sure why we had only a portion of it just now. I thought for sure we'd get more when it showed more in the house. But this was ... just a different part. Not more, but different. What happened in the house was ... more. I'd say more, would you guys?"

They saw his eyes, pleading for help without saying anything.

"Dude, you SO don't look like you're sure 'bout that."

"I'm not."

"I'd ... I'd say it was more. Don't you think so, Dilly?"

"I ... sure, yeah. More, fo'shizzle."

JD sighed again. "Look," he said slowly, trying to be earnest. "I'm sorry about this, you guys. I've got zero-point-zero experience in this type of thing. Normally it's people telling me they hear a baby crying at night, and it turns out to be two cats screwing in the alley. Or someone says a mysterious voice spoke to them through the walls. It was actually their neighbors arguing and the sound carried through the air conditioner to the ducts. It's never been anything even remotely like this. They've all been pretty straight-forward and simple cases of people misunderstanding what they see."

"This definitely ain't that, is it, bro?"

"No, it's absolutely not that. This is something ... something strange. Something I can't explain. Something -- I don't know. Supernatural, I guess."

"You didn't want to say that, did you, baby?"

JD shook his head. "No. Even now, part of me wants to find the rational piece that I've been missing all along. I can't; I mean, I can explain the wandering around aimlessly in the yard as being lost and disoriented in the fog. I can. But that's not really a very strong possibility. We COULD have moved only in circles, and the fog was really thick, to be sure. But to end up back where we started, both times, as if we'd never even taken a step? I mean, look at us: we're all in the same position we were in when the fog rolled in."

The others did look. It was as if they stopped at the bottom of the stairs coming out of the house and didn't move again the entire time they'd been outside.

"I can't explain the fog, either. I didn't get a chance to look at the weather for last night, but I'm almost certain there was no fog in the forecast, and I'm betting that there wasn't any fog anywhere else ... just this yard."

"Do you really think so, hon? Is that honestly what your heart is telling you?"

JD chuckled. "I don't know if it's what my heart is saying, Wen, but I've got a very strong suspicion that would be the case. I can't explain how we can talk to an officer Brown here tonight at the gate of the house -- and I KNOW we went to the gate of the house BEFORE the fog set in -- and spoke with him. It could have been a different, modern-day officer Brown, but then where is he? Shouldn't he have come back by now? Where's the car, the squawking radio, the flashing lights? Who called? Why would he be moving in stealth? No, I don't think so. I think that was either Robin Brown, dead these 35 years, or it was Darren Jenkins, also dead for years. And it wasn't just a recording playing back; we couldn't have interacted with that. Robin Brown, or whoever it was, spoke to us and responded to us speaking back. He carded us. He was acting like someone alive, someone coherent, someone that could hear us and see us and yet was carrying out his destiny."

"That's a lot to have on your mind, love. Maybe we should call it a night."

"I've SO had enough ghosts for tonight."

JD nodded. "I'm sure that's the best thing to do. I don't know if the events will continue or not. I can't be sure of anything at this point. For all I know, the most significant events are in the house going on while we're out here. I'm sure just calling it a night is the best decision."

"Are you sure, JD? We can just go inside and sit for a while, maybe take a look at the video you've shot tonight and see if we can get any sort of hint as to what's wrong."

"No," JD answered soberly. "Thank you, Wendy. I ... I love you. But no ... I don't think I should do this anymore. I think this has proven to me that I'm not very good at this sort of thing, and should just let the homeowners know what happened. I think I have their email address at home. I can give them a summary report, let them know they should contact someone more professional, more organized, and let them take over."

"What're you sayin', dude? You gonna QUIT?"

JD pondered. "Well ... yeah. I guess so. Maybe with all this, and three credible eye witnesses, they get someone really great like Benjamin Radford to investigate. I bet he'd know what the next step is."

"That's BULL, dude."

"What?"

"You heard me. Dude, I known you since fourth grade. You ain't ever quit NOTHIN' you started, and you NEVER give up. I can't believe you're gonna do that now, dude. It just ... it just ain't in ya. You ain't built like that, homes."

"Dillon, I appreciate your support, but --"

"Naw, man, it AIN'T support. Dude, I been tellin' ya this is a ghost the whole time. You tried t'deny it an' shit, but you didn't really have anything solid for that crap. The reason you ain't able t'get your head around this thing is 'cause it's NEW. You tried new shit before, dude, an' you ALWAYS figger it out. Always. You ain't been stumped for long in your life, man. Soon as you bone up an' let your own bad self believe this is a ghost, an' not that dumbass water-DVD thing an' shit, you're gonna figger out what t'do, bro. You so will. I seen you do this before, trust me."

"Dillon, this is completely different --"

"No, hon, he's right."

"You too?"

"Yes, me too. He's right. You're just not giving yourself the option of believing in ghosts. That leaves you with nothing to stand on, nothing to proceed from. If you give yourself the chance to believe this is real, you'll think of something. You'll get excited about the investigation again. You'll figure something out."

"Wendy, you don't get it, I ..."

"I DO get it, Jaded. I do. You really, REALLY wanted to debunk this. But it's not debunkable, so you don't know what to do. It's real, and you're lost because you weren't really running an investigation, sweetie -- you were trying to prove someone wrong. You were trying to disprove their beliefs. You were trying to make yourself right, instead of just being open minded. When you are, you'll see it in a new way, and I know -- I KNOW -- you'll have something in your hip pocket to pull out."

He watched their eyes, ablaze with expectation of him. He couldn't just make the feeling of helplessness vanish, couldn't just renew his confidence in the fact that this was not what it appeared. He was shaken, he was confused, and he wanted more than anything to just move on to something he could understand.

And yet, they stood looking at him, watching him, expecting more than resignation of him.

He drew a deep breath.

"All right. All right ... I'll keep going. I have to assume now that this is a ghost. There are many kinds, but I'll worry about that later. I have no idea whether or not the events will replay any more tonight, but I should stick around for a couple of more hours to make sure they don't. I'll come back tomorrow night if that's the case and see if the same thing happens."

"Tha's m'boy!"

"Now that's the JD I fell in love with."

"Uh ... let's see. Okay, so compared to last night, we got a different piece of what happened, but we also got less of it. The interaction with us took up a lot of time, relatively speaking, so then the ..." He trailed off, his brows knit.

"What?" Wendy said, concerned.

"Dude, don't go all freaky an' stuff. Whattup?"

"No, nothing," he said, processing. "It's just that last night, we were on the side of the house. Tonight we intercepted him at the gate. What if we interfered? What if we delayed him too long at the gate?"

Wendy shook her head. "I don't get it. What're you thinking?"

Dillon stepped in closer. "Oh, dude -- I think I see where you're goin' with that."

"Do you?"

"Yeah. Like, nothin' held ol' Robbie-boy up at the gate back in the day, right? So when we did, it kinda like made the DVD jump an' all."

"You mean, the record skipped?" Wendy was still not following.

"Yes, sort of," JD said. "Because we caused him to stop at the gate, the timing of the rest of the events was off. If we had been standing there 35 years ago, Robin Brown may not have been killed. The timing of these events are critical. He only delayed for a couple of seconds last night, then moved on. He blew right past us without so much as a request for ID."

"Oh my God," she said. "We may have saved him in this replay. So it stopped because things aren't right. It has to ... reset, sorta."

"Yes!" JD said. "Yes, and if we don't interfere the next time the events are rolling, we will see them in their entirety."

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Ready to go on to Part 23?

Ghost Hunters, Pt. 21

(Just joining us? You may want to start at the beginning.)

They all stared in stunned silence, jaws agape, staring at the glowing disk that ducked in and out of view through the heavy mist.

"I said who are you?" the voice demanded more forcefully. "I don't want to ask you again."

"Um ... we're ..."

"We're house-sitters for the homeowners," Wendy finished quickly.

"What are you doing out here? Which one of you called?"

"Called whom?" JD said slowly.

"Called the police, smart ass. Was it you? Is this a prank?"

"No ... NO! Not a prank, not at all ... but we didn't ... call the police."

"Officer, none of us called the police, so we're not sure why you're here."

"Someone said the homeowners saw someone in their yard. Was that you? Are you three hanging around out here?" The light inched closer.

"Dude, who're you?"

"Dillon!" JD said panicking.

"I'm officer Brown, punk. Who are YOU?"

The three of them stood stock still, shocked.

"Officer ROBIN Brown?" JD said cautiously.

"I'm only going to ask you one more time, then I'm hauling you all in -- who ARE you?"

"We're telling the truth," Wendy pleaded. "We're house-sitting for the homeowners while they're gone. We came out here because ... we thought we ... heard something."

"Yeah?" the voice barked back, the light blazing at her face. "Like what?"

"We thought we heard the window opening in the house," JD chimed in. "When there was no one in the room we came out here to see what was happening."

"Well then who called the police?"

"Dude, we so don't know, man."

"What's your name, hippie?" The flashlight beam shone directly on Dillon's face.

"Dude, I'm Dillon. Nice t'meetcha." He smiled broadly.

"You being a smart ass, punk?"

"Naw, man ... naw, I'm serious. My buddy here's never met nobody like you before." He gestured toward JD.

"He means --" JD spat out quickly, "I've never had an encounter with the police before." He glared at Dillon but it was lost in the fog. The light turned fully on JD.

"What's your name, kid?"

"I'm JD, and this is Wendy. We're honestly just the house sitters. I even have the keys." JD reached into his pocket and pulled the keys out, jangling them in front of the flashlight.

"So who called? If that's a prank, I swear to God I'm runnin' you all in."

"No, Officer Brown, not at all. I ... I don't know who called you. Maybe one of the neighbors? Maybe they claimed to be the homeowners so you'd ... take them more seriously?"

"Or maybe they saw the three of you hippies out here trespassing and decided to call us."

"We're not trespassing," Wendy said quietly, meekly. "We were just concerned is all. We aren't doing anything illegal."

"Yeah? Let me see some identification, then."

JD reached for his wallet with one hand and held the other up to show it held only the camera.

"Easy!" the officer barked, and the light flinched. JD knew he'd lowered for an attack.

"It's ... it's okay. I'm going for my wallet."

"My ID is in the house," Wendy muttered, afraid.

"Uh ... I didn't bring none."

"You don't have an ID? Driver's license, draft card, somethin' like that?" The light was trained on Dillon again.

"N-naw, sure don't ... sorry. Don't shoot me, 'kay?"

"Dillon!" JD produced his wallet and put the camera down at his feet.

"What's that??" the voice snapped, again flinching.

"Camera! It's just a camera!"

"Step back from it!"

JD complied, taking a step back from the camera. He remembered then it was recording. He wasn't sure what exactly was going on, but he was certain the little recorder was still going.

The light trained on the silver plastic, and moved a bit closer.

Then a sound came from somewhere behind the house. All of them jumped at the sound and turned, seeing only the murky fog obscuring everything in front of them. The light shone into the distance.

"You'd better get back in the house," the voice said. "I think I know what's goin' on here. It'll be safer in the house."

"But ... shouldn't you call for back up?"

The light flashed in JD's eyes. "Just get back, kid. Do as I tell ya. And don't go nowhere, I'll be back in a minute."

"Uh ... sure. Okay."

"Officer Brown," Wendy said nervously, "you really should call for back up."

"Just get in the house, miss," the voice commanded tiredly. "Back up wouldn't help anyway."

They all looked at each other as the light bounced away slowly and vanished in the fog.

"Oh my God," Wendy said. "JD, I thought you said it was a recording! How can he talk to us, CARD us, if it's just a recording??"

"Dude, we're talkin' to a frickin' ghost, mofo! A GHOST!" Dillon was ashen faced in the gloom of the fog. "How ... when ... what the f-"

"I know," JD cut him off. "I know. I'm confused too. The only thing I can think of is that the officer interacted with people at the time and the recording is ..."

"Oh, come on, Jaded," Wendy whispered exasperated. "You've got to be kidding me!"

"Dude, give up on that shit right now, man. This was a damned ghost."

"Unless this is a modern day cop, you two."

"Dude. Named Robin Brown, man? Dude."

"He never confirmed his first name. And 'Brown' isn't exactly an uncommon surname."

"JD, we need to go after him and warn him."

JD looked off into the mist. "I ... I don't think it's going to help, Wendy. If we're watching a recording, it's not possible to change the outcome. If this really is the ghost of Robin Brown, we can't help him. He's been dead for 35 years."

"We have to try! It's obvious we're not seeing a damned recording ... he spoke to us, responded to your camera, answered our questions, asked us questions -- please, we have to try and save him!"

"Wen, he's dead already!"

"Dude, does he know that?"

All eyes snapped to Dillon.

"Wh -- what?"

"Does he know that, dude? I think homeboy don't know he's dead, dude. He's just goin' through the moves, man, not knowin' he's all dead an' stuff. Like in The Sixth Sense, y'know?"

"Holy crap, JD," Wendy whispered, her voice low and strained. "God, he's just ... he's going to be murdered all over again. He's not even aware of what the date is, what the events are ... nothing."

"Uh ..."

"Dude, what she said. I think homes is gonna go get whacked. I think his ghost is doomed to play out the story, dude, 'cause he's not ... you know -- at peace an' shit."

JD rubbed his forehead, his brain processing.

"JD, come on. We have to catch up. Maybe we can figure out what really happened."

"The cops don't know what really happened, Wen!"

"I think they might. I think they just -- let this go. I think they had their minds made up and just let Brown be the scapegoat for whatever was going on up here, in this neighborhood."

"Dude, what she said."

"I ... I gue-ess ... but ..."

"Yes, Jaded -- that means this is a real ghost. A real supernatural event. A real mystery. And Robin Brown needs our help to solve his murder so that his spirit can find rest."

"Dude ... what --"

"She said, I know, I know," JD finished harshly. "Fine. Fine. You want to believe in ghosts and goblins, vampires and werewolves and the Tooth Fairy? Fine. Let's go rescue the ghost."

"Dude. The Tooth Fairy? How's she involved?"

"How do you know it's female?"

"'Cause it's a fairy an' stuff."

"Fairies can be male."

"No they can't, gimme a break."

"How do they make more fairies if none of them are female?"

"Dude, they lay eggs, like oysters an' crap."

"DO YOU TWO MIND??" Wendy snapped through gritted teeth. "This is not the time!!"

The two looked at her sheepishly. "Sorry, Wen," JD whispered. "I guess ... I guess I'm having a hard time with this."

"You're going to miss it, JD," she reminded him. "Come on, we have to hurry to catch up."

"Dude can't be movin' fast in this crap," Dillon said.

"True. Come on, let's go -- I can at least record what happens next."

JD bent and scooped up the camera then moved off in the direction Brown took. Wendy quickly snatched the hem of his sweatshirt and seized Dillon's hand, dragging him behind. JD was moving as fast as he felt was safe, trying to reacquire the flashlight beam in front of him.

He called softly over his shoulder, "Oysters?"

"Yeah, you know ... eggs, then babies," Dillon responded.

"What kind of oysters?"

"Who the hell cares, dude?"

"Hey, you brought it up. If you're going to bring something up, you should at least know what you're talking about, don't you think?"

"Dude ... a'ight, eatin' oysters. The kind ya get at the bars an' shit."

"Several species of oyster are edible. Which one are we talking about?"

"Dude -- I so didn't major in marine food."

"But you did bring it up."

"Can it, please," Wendy hissed. "What is it with you two?"

"He's pickin' on me, Wen. Make 'im lemme alone."

"JD, leave Dilly alone. Bully someone your own IQ."

"Gee, Wen, thanks," Dillon said sarcastically. "My damn hero an' shit."

She giggled and squeezed his hand.

"So ... he did go this way, right?" JD spoke as he slowed. He was sure they should have reached some recognizable point.

"Aw, dude," Dillon groaned, "not this shit again."

"I know," JD said heavily. "I'm ... not sure where we are. Again."

"JD, damn it. Maybe if you'd been paying more attention instead of teasing Dillon ..."

"Wendy, this is not my fault," JD said, turning to her irked.

She looked down and sighed as they stopped. "You're right. I'm sorry, baby. I just ... I just think this is really important."

He softened and smiled. "I know. And I'm doing my best."

She nodded, and reached up with her face to peck him on the lips. "I know. I love you."

He blushed.

"Dude?"

"What?"

"Dude! She 'L' worded you! Do we need ta have this talk again??"

"I love you too," JD whispered, trying not to let Dillon hear him.

"Ah ... that's better, peckerwood."

JD shook his head. "Mind your own business, will you?"

"Can we just, like, stop the lovey-dovey crap now, an' find Robbie boy?"

Wendy sighed. "We're lost again."

JD nodded. "I'm afraid so."

"Aw, dude. You frickin' blew it, man. I bet you sucked at follow the leader."

"You'd know, dummy. If I ever played it was with YOU."

"Oh. Yeah. Well, you sucked."

"Now what, lover?"

JD drew a heavy, deep sigh. "I ... I don't know. We can wait for a sound to get our bearings, or we can wait ..."

As he spoke, the fog suddenly washed over them again and vanished like a thief into the stillness of the night.

"... for the fog to clear," he finished, looking around.

"Dude," Dillon said slowly, softly. "What the fuck is goin' on?"

"I -- I don't ... I don't know."

"Oh, God, baby ... this is ... this is too much ..." Wendy tucked her head into JD's chest and he put his arm around her as she tried to burrow into him.

They were standing at the foot of the porch stairs, as if they'd never even moved.

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Ready to go on to Part 22?

Ghost Hunters, Pt. 20

(Just joining us? You may want to start at the beginning.)

JD was shaking, holding the camera loosely in his hand, his breathing shallow and slightly rasping. The others were equally shaken, staring wide-eyed at the yard around them and the house behind them. It stood dark and solemn, like a harbinger of evil as the silence of the night swept over them. Even the leaves ceased their restless rustling along the ground and the tiny street lamp on its lonely vigil stared tearlessly at them.

JD cleared his throat. "Uh ... this is weird."

The others just looked at him. He saw their faces dimly in the dark.

"What?"

"That's it?? That's ALL you have to say?? 'This is weird'?"

"We-ll ... yeah. It is. Don't you think?"

Wendy barked a harsh laugh of disbelief. "JD, what the hell is going on??"

"Dude, you gotta do better than 'weird', man. Like, a lot better."

"I ... I don't know what to tell you. I can't -- I mean, I don't ... I don't know what's going on. I really don't. That was ... weird."

"Duh, dude," Dillon said sardonically. "That much we know. Tell us what we don't know, dude."

"With you, that can take a considerable amount of time."

"How can you tell?"

"I just can."

"What about Wen?"

"Much shorter."

"You sayin' she's smarter 'n me?"

"Yes."

"But you don't know what's goin' on here?"

"No."

"So maybe you ain't so smart either, then."

"Well, I'm certainly ahead of you."

"Can you guys put a damned sock in it??"

They both looked at Wendy, shocked. Her eyes flashed like lightning in the dark.

"We don't have time for this. What happened, JD? Where's the rest of the play back?"

"I ... I don't know. I'm going to assume it's still coming."

"We don't have much time then. This didn't happen last night."

"Damn straight it didn't. These spooks're onto us, man, and the dudes ain't happy. They're gonna jack with our minds 'n stuff and make us eat each other an' crap like that."

"You watch WAY too many zombie movies."

"Dilly, you're going to have to buck up a bit unless you want to wait in the house, okay? We need to get ready for more of this now."

"You ain't mad at me are ya, Wen?"

"No, but ... well, let's just focus on what we're doing here, okay?"

"Uh ... yeah, okay Wen. I ... I'm cool. Yeah. Cool."

"JD, you're going to have to get a little more serious here."

"Sorry, Wendy, but I still don't have any answers. I'm as lost in this situation as you are. Remember I don't know any more about this situation than you do."

"Are you still going to presume this isn't supernatural? That there's a logical explanation for what just happened to us?"

"Well, we were disoriented by the fog. It's entirely possible that we simply walked in circles. Stranger things have happened."

"In so limited an area?"

"Dude, what she said."

JD rolled his eyes. "Yes, in so small an area. In deserts and things like that, the scenery can be misleading because it's all so similar. But generally the visibility is better, so you go farther and make bigger circles. Here, we were walking carefully, slowly, trying to fight being lost in the fog and ..."

"Do you honestly believe the words coming out of your mouth, Jaded? Are you seriously telling me we just walked around in circles when we were deliberately trying to make progress?"

JD hung his head. "Wendy, you asked what I think. I think it's entirely possible we could've been disoriented in that thick fog enough to not have done much of anything."

"That's ridiculous, JD."

"Dude ... what she said."

"What are you, a parrot?"

"Dilly wanna cracker, dude. And to not get lost."

"JD, that's silly. Something beyond logical explanation is happening here."

"Wendy, we can't say that yet." JD was firm. "We need to remember that just because our senses are fooled doesn't mean that reality and physics have been. We aren't going to be able to settle this right now. We have to analyze the data."

"The data?" she snapped. "You mean those great gray frames you recorded? Yeah, that'll be real helpful for analysis. We couldn't even find a damned distinguishing feature in the display."

"Not yet," JD said more softly. "We'll have the tape professionally analyzed and see what turns up. For now, let's not assume that some angry apparition is trying to kill us, okay?"

She looked up at him. She cocked her head to one side, and put her hand on his cheek. "There are things beyond your ability to explain, love."

"I know. And I'm willing to accept that. But right now, let's just get ready to collect data, okay?"

She drew a heavy sigh. "Yeah. What else can we do?"

"Dudes, I think we oughta get somewhere so it ain't so easy t'get lost pretty quick."

"Good idea," JD agreed quickly. "Come on ... while we can see, let's get over by the gate. I'm certain that's where Brown entered the yard. Hopefully the playback will resume."

"So -- today, dudes, while we're young, y'know?"

They followed JD as he hastily moved toward the gate, and stood within a few feet of the opening between the dense skeletal shrubs. He checked the camera again, making sure that he could see through the viewfinder, then opening the LCD screen to see if it worked.

It did. He closed it, and drew a deep breath.

"Well ... I guess we wait here."

"Uh ... where -- where should I stand, dude? I don't wanna be too close t'the ... you know."

JD tipped his head, his brows knit in confusion. "Um ... no, I don't think I do."

"You know -- I don' wanna get to close t'the ... spirits an' stuff."

"Oh, for Pete's sake, Dillon."

"DUDE! You stand next to 'em! I don't wanna!"

"Fine ... uh ... here, stand behind Wendy. She'll protect you from the mean, bad ghosts, okay?"

"Aw, dude -- puttin' your lady in harm's way, man? SO not good, dude."

"Never mind, you two jack asses!" Wendy was irked. "Look, things are stressful and creepy enough without the bickering. Knock it off already!"

Dillon hung his head like a dog. "Sorry, Wen."

JD cleared his throat and blushed. "Um ... this is where the playback should start. At least if we get to see what we saw last night. I'm not certain about that at this point."

"You don't even know what's gonna happen, dude?"

"Well, we didn't have that last part last night. That's new. We might have more new stuff happen. I just can't say."

"The ghosts're makin' ya look bad, JD."

"Oh, be quiet. There are no ghosts."

"I'm only going to tell you guys one more time to shut up and quit the bickering. Then I'm going to put both of you over my knee in a way you WON'T like. Dilly."

"Uh ... how d'ya know I won't like it?"

"I'll make sure you don't."

"How? Give details."

She swatted him and chuckled in spite of herself. "Seriously, JD, what now? Do we even have a clue how long we're going to be waiting for it?"

"No, I'm afraid not. We don't even know if the playback's going to resume. Or if it ever did. That last thing might've been something completely different. We just can't know. This is part of the reason the Stone or Water Tape theory isn't widely accepted."

She threw her hands up and let them fall, slapping on her thighs. "Well, we can just stand here for a while, I guess, but when do we know to give it up?"

JD shrugged helplessly.

"Dude, you so aren't very good at this."

"I ... hey, I haven't heard much of anything out of you either ... except your school girl screams of terror, of course."

"Ouch, dude. I'm just sayin' is all."

"Yeah. Me too."

"JD, here it comes."

"What?"

"The fog ... it's ... it's coming again!"

They looked quickly up and watched as the white blanket returned, washing like foam over the top of the house and from around its girth. It came rushing like pryoclastic floes, crashing silently and forcefully over them as it pushed beyond the gate.

And they were suddenly submerged in the mist that ran into position and stopped, the whole world still and calm around them.

"Dude, that's just scary."

"Shh. Let's keep an ear out for any sound. Are you ready with the recorder?"

Silence.

"Dillon?"

Silence.

"Dillon?"

"DUDE, you shushed me! I can't talk and be quiet!"

JD shook his head invisibly in the fog and gloom, and asked again. "Be quiet after you answer me -- do you have the recorder? Are you ready to use it?"

"Yeah, an' yeah, jerk."

"Wait -- JD, look!!" Wendy was clutching his arm hard, and he winced a bit under her grasp. "LOOK."

They huddled closely together in the mist, straining their eyes into the sheet of gray wisps that floated eerily by.

JD started to ask her what she saw, when it caught his attention too.

A light. A flashlight, smudged and dim in the thick cloud. The beam was obscured as though through smoke, then came clear to them again, then grew stronger as it approached.

They jumped when the beam blinked out and then back on, closer to them. The light showed the faintest trace of a figure, hard to see, indistinct in the fog and dark, as it grew nearer. Then it was clear that the legs and waist of the shadowy figure were behind the shrubs opposite them, on the sidewalk beyond, as the beam reflected from the tops of the jagged twigs and limbs.

Then the beam leveled at them. JD raised the camera and turned it on.

The light began to approach them.

JD checked that he could see the glowing disk approaching through the LCD viewer.

It came straight for them.

"JD ..."

"Shh. It's okay. It's just a recording."

"Dude ..."

"Shh," JD repeated softly. The light continued toward them.

It stopped just a few feet away, and they jumped when the gate suddenly opened, squealing in the night. The figure slowed the motion, trying to stifle the sound, and JD swatted Dillon lightly.

Dillon yelped quietly in the mist. "Dude!" he whispered, barely audible, "Don't do that!"

"Record the sounds!"

"I already am, studly!"

The gate slowly and carefully closed, creaking and groaning softly in the cemetery stillness. The light panned away from them, and they could see the figure backlit by the ethereal glow from the beam ahead of it, and then it swung back around, and leveled right at them again.

JD was switching his eyes back and forth between the light in front of him and the display viewer. The beam shone steadily at them, then began to approach. In a second it was on them, directly in front of them, held high, next to the where the shadow's head would be, and quickly snapped from one of their faces to the other, making them shield their eyes.

"Who are you?" a commanding voice said from behind the light.

Wendy turned quickly to JD. "This ... this is different."

"I said, who are you?" the voice repeated more forcefully.

"Uh ... dude? I think ... I think he's talkin' to us."

"It's a recording, Dillon. Don't forget that."

"I'm going to ask you three one more time -- who are you?"

JD realized then that this was no recording.

The figure was speaking to them ... directly.

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Ready to go on to Part 21?