Ghosts of Rosewood Asylum (13 page)

Authors: Stephen Prosapio

“Yes, but it also made Mommy and I sad
because Father had died.”

“How old were you when your father died?”

Bryce seemed very comfortable with Sashza’s
state – almost too comfortable. Almost
rehearsed
. Had it not been for
Sashza’s mention of ‘Boy’ after Joey had used that term earlier, Zach wouldn’t
be buying any of this.

“Seven. But I’m eight-years old now.”

“That’s great. So tell me about this boy…”

Sashza’s brow furrowed and she frowned. “Not
‘this boy,’ just ‘Boy!’” Her tone had taken that of an insolent child.

“Okay,” Bryce said, calmly as ever. “Tell me
about Boy.”

“He tells me things.”

“Like what kinds of things?”

“Secret things.”

“What kind of secret things?”

“Boy said not to tell. I can’t tell
anybody!”

“It’s okay,” Bryce said, softly. “You can
tell me.”

“Nooooooo!”

“Why not?”

Sashza’s face darkened. “Boy? Who is she?”

“Who are you talking about?” Bryce asked.

“B-but I don’t...” she stammered, “but why?”

Bryce appeared confounded. Sashza put her
fingers in her ears, as if blocking a high-pitched whistle. The terror in her
expression made Zach’s abdomen tense and his toes tingle. He considered shaking
her out of the trance.

Sashza put her hands down to her sides, and
then she inhaled deeply, “Mamma, help! Help me!”

The small group stood in the open expanse in
front of Rosewood. The day’s unseasonable heat had dissipated at sunset, and
the chilly Chicago breezes provided subtle warning to everyone that October
approached. Fireflies periodically dotted the darkness, their tiny flashes of
yellow light serving as a nostalgic reminder of summer nights.

Considering Patrizia’s disclosure of the
murdered orderly, Sashza had a surprisingly uneventful reaction to the old
stables.

“Okay,” Zach said. “Okay. Let’s go into the
main building.”

Angel and Pierre chatted in their
constructed, technical nerve center. Shelly was leaning over the bank of video
monitors checking out the images. Rather than flooding the area with bright
lights, Angel had set up dozens of pillar candles around the lobby. Zach
opposed the idea on the grounds of fire safety, but Bryce, Sara and pretty much
everyone else vehemently overruled him. Zach usually knew when to pick his
battles, so he’d given up his opposition. He had to admit that, with the eerie
incandescence, it was precisely how Zach had always imagined Rosewood.

“Take me to the basement,” Sashza said.

“Downstairs?” Bryce stared at her.

“It’s the only part of this building worth
me looking at.” The certainty in Sashza’s voice echoed throughout the lobby.

Zach led the way. As his confidence in
Sashza had increased, his anxiety level had risen—especially regarding the
basement. If Rebecca’s raw but underdeveloped psychic powers had gotten such a
visceral reaction, what kind of experience were they in for with Sashza?

He opened the door, flicked on his
flashlight and headed down the steps. He took advantage of the darkness. He
breathed deeply to calm his nerves. Sashza wasn’t the only one “touched.” An
inattention to his own emotional state could trigger his condition. The result
would be an episode dramatic and graphic enough to freak out the most hardened
Sci-D TV viewer.

An overwhelming urge to say something
gripped him. He stopped before reaching the bottom step, turned around and
faced up the stairway. Sashza gazed down at him.

“We all, Bryce, Sara and myself, agreed not
to taint your impressions of Rosewood by telling you anything that happened
earlier today,” Zach said.

Eye contact let him know that he had
one-hundred percent of her attention.

“If at any time you feel yourself in danger,
please let us know so that we can get you to safety.”

Sashza solemnly nodded. Behind her, halfway
up the stairs, Sara was grousing to the cameraman that he should be filming.
Zach ignored them, offered Sashza his hand and guided her down the remaining
steps and into the corridor.

“Lies,” she said.

Zach flinched. “What?”

The others rushed down and gathered at the
base of the stairs. Zach pulled his hand away from Sashza as the cameraman
aimed to film.

“Lies and deception. All around us.
Especially around you!” Sashza stared at Zach, but her eyes became
expressionless, almost vacant. She closed them. “She’s lying to you. She means
well. But deceiving nonetheless.”

Zach swallowed his pride and did his best
Bryce impression. “Who’s lying?”

“He told her it would be okay. She doesn’t
understand. She’s not letting me. She doesn’t belong here.”

“The woman they found?”

“Yes.”

“Why was she here?” Zach asked.

“She was tricking him. Just like she’s
tricking him now.”

“Who?”

Zach felt lost. Sashza was picking up on
something, but he couldn’t seem to guide her or to make sense of it. Her face
contorted into a countenance gruesome and furious.

Her eyes opened.

“She fucking lied she did! And now, she’ll
burn!”

“The woman was the reason someone burned
down—”

“Someone? You are a liar. How dare you?”

“Dude, that’s it. I’m stopping this.” Bryce
rushed around her and stepped between them. “C’mon honey...Sashza, snap outta
it.”

Whoever or whatever Sashza had become,
lunged for Bryce’s jugular. “Oh, you’re the reason? You, Carter? You’re a
fucking joke! I’ll kill you!”

Zach grabbed for her, but it was
unnecessary. Sashza’s half-hearted attack was little match against Bryce’s
strength. Her large hands kept hold of his throat for a moment, but then seemed
to lose their passion. They released and fell to her side. Bryce smothered her
in a bear hug. She tried to escape, however he gripped her tightly.

“Shhh. It’s okay,” he said.

Sashza let out a ghastly wail. “Stay away!
Stay away from him! You don’t know what you’re up against!”

“Sashza, shhh. It’s okay,” he repeated.
“C’mon back to me.”

She mustered one final but futile attempt to
struggle away from him. Failing, she looked up and screamed. “Dr. Johansson, I
don’t belong here!”

Sashza passed out in Bryce’s arms.

Chapter Fourteen

“This is crazy. Check it out!” Matthew said.

The technical nerve center in the asylum’s
lobby looked like a broadcast trailer at the Super Bowl. Several video screens,
both small and large, monitored rooms, hallways and outdoor landscape all
throughout Rosewood’s grounds. Matthew, Pierre and Angel were gathered around a
video monitor at the lobby’s control center. Angel held a camera in his hands.

Sara trailed behind Zach. She instructed her
cameraman to film whatever was being discussed. Bryce was escorting a
distraught Sashza to her car. She’d taken nearly half an hour to snap out of
her trance in the basement, and then had claimed that she felt something from
the asylum invade her physical presence. She adamantly swore she needed to
leave Rosewood. She had insisted on leaving immediately.

“What’s up boys?” Zach asked.

“You’re not gonna believe this,
mi
hijo
,” Angel said. “I saw that the video feed to Camera 3, the one in the
cafeteria, had gone out. I assumed it was just some power issue, so I walked
down there to see what was up. I find the camera not only lying on the floor
but look.”

He held it out. There was a huge gash on one
of the corners. Angel flipped the camera over and exposed the lens. It was
shattered.

“What—”

“Check for yourself,” Matthew said. He’d
cued up a video recording from Camera 3.

The picture displayed the night vision
images of the giant room. Its far corners faded to greens and grays. The image
wiggled slightly, and then slowly the perspective changed. It rose from the
four-foot shot to perhaps six or seven feet in the air. It paused there only a
moment before plummeting to the ground. The picture was gone for a second. Then
a still view of the room flashed back on screen through the shattered lens.
Then the screen went black for good.

“That’s it,” Matthew said. “Holy crap. I’d
say we got ghosts!”

Zach turned to Angel. “How long was the feed
out before you went and found the camera like that?”

“I dunno. A couple of minutes? I
periodically eyeball the video monitors to check that they’re working. We had
people hanging around up here right about that time, so I was distracted for
maybe five minutes—at the most.”

Bryce walked up. “What’s the haps, peeps?”

Matthew explained the situation and reran
the video for him.

“That’s awesome. That clip’s gonna make for
an awesome preview for the show!”

Zach sighed. “Yes, but it’s still
unsubstantiated evidence.”

“Unsubstantiated?” Bryce threw his hands up.
“And how would you like this authenticated, oh wise one?”

“I’m just saying, theoretically someone
could have lifted the camera up and smashed it.”

“
Theoretically
who?” Bryce puffed out
his chest.

“Theoretically,
anyone
.”

“Cut!” Sara glowered at Bryce and Zach. Her
command had been to stop filming, but everyone in the room understood the
double entendre.

Zach unzipped his tent. He stooped through
the opening and plopped down on his sleeping bag. Crazy psychic readings,
broken video cameras, infighting between the teams, and it wasn’t even
midnight.

“I need about a week’s worth of sleep.”

Ray lay on his half of the tent with his
feet crossed. His head was propped up on a gym bag as he worked on a text
message. It smelled like he’d bathed in cheap cologne.

“Aww, did poor Zachie pooh have a rough day
being on TV? Was it hard hanging out with the hot Asian chick while I pitched
our tent by myself?”

“You have no idea, pal-o-mine,” Zach said.
“Who are you texting?”

He squinted and pursed his lips. “A
coworker.”

“Raymond Michael Ross, you had better not be
chasing after a stripper!”

Ray glared at him. “Are you kidding? I’m
texting another bouncer to see about swapping shifts so I can hang here
tomorrow.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“You better be, ya clown.”

“And, seriously, thanks for setting up the
tent.”

“No problem. You just owe me
another
blowjob.”

“Am I interrupting?” The question came from
a female voice just outside the tent.

Zach recognized the scent of her
perfume—French vanilla with a wisp of honeysuckle. His face went flush. He
scrambled toward the tent’s opening—toward her.

“Patrizia. Hi. Hello. No.”

Her hair was tied back in a ponytail and
she’d changed into a spandex bodysuit like Trinity wore to kick people’s asses
in
The Matrix
.

“Do you have any spare flashlight
batteries?”

“Sure, in my car. You need some?”

“I forgot to bring backups and want to be
prepared in case they run out while investigating.”

“Good idea,” Zach said. “I’ll run to my car
and get them before we start.”

“Thanks.” She smiled and left.

Ray’s bemused face made Zach grin.
“Shuddup.”

“Oh Zach,” Ray said, raising his voice
several octaves, “do you think maybe you could shove some of your big powerful
batteries into my flashlight?”

“You need a good ass kicking.”

Ray smirked. “From you?”

“No, from her. You were already pretty hard
on my ass the other day.”