Ghosts of Rosewood Asylum (14 page)

“Sorry but before we start, I need to talk
to you...” She glanced at Ray. “Outside?”

Zach followed her out of the tent. “So?
What’s up?”

Her lips pursed slightly as they did when
she knew she needed to say something delicately. “Well even before the little
tiff in there,” she tilted her head toward the asylum, “Bryce requested that we
even out the airtime a bit.”

“You gotta be kidding me. Even out? Really?
Did someone already edit the footage from today and not tell me?”

“Zach.”

“Did we have a stopwatch timing how long
Patrizia’s tour lasted and compare it to how long Wendy’s introduction was?”

“Za-aaack.”

He hated when she said his name that way—it
reminded him of how his dad pronounced it.

“Fine, Sara. We’ve got three teams of
investigators and two camera crews. While one team is in the asylum, another
team can be checking out the administration building and stables, while a third
team keeps an eye outside the front yard area. That third team won’t have an HD
camera, but their night-vision portable and mini digital camera should be enough.
If Bryce wants, he and Rico can take the first shift in the asylum. That’s
probably the team that will get the most usable footage, right?”

“Good idea,” she said.

“Sara, don’t do that.”

“What?”

They were both silent a moment while Rico
and Turk passed by and disappeared into Rosewood’s lobby.

Zach still spoke in hushed tones. “Don’t
pretend like this was my idea.”

“Well it was!”

“Okay, whatever.” He started back to his
tent.

“And Zach?”

He stopped, but didn’t turn around.

“Like we talked about, can you stop hanging
around with Ray at least another twenty-four hours?”

“What happened to your candles?” Zach asked.

In lieu of candles, there were a few
battery-powered lanterns dotting the asylum’s lobby.

“I can’t get them to stay lit,” Angel
replied.

“Really?”

“
Si
. I don’t know if it’s something
supernatural or just a draft, but they tend to not stay lit very long. I just
gave up.”

“That’s interesting. We should run some
tests on that later.” Zach said, inspecting the row of video displays. “Hey,
why isn’t a camera covering the basement?”

“You wanted one there?”

“We’ve had a lot of activity downstairs. Why
wouldn’t we?”

“Because even before losing Camera 3, we
were stretched as thin as possible by the thousands of feet of hallway?”

“We need one down there,” Zach said. “Figure
something out.”

Matthew had been leaning on the railing of
the main staircase eavesdropping. “We could take one from the hallway on the
2nd floor. Camera 8?” He pointed above the infirmary.

“That one’s gotta cover room 217,” Angel said.

“What about the one at the other end of the
hallway?” Matthew asked.

Angel turned to Zach. “What do you think,
boss?”

“That should work. Get it done ASAP. We’re
going to start filming in five minutes.”

Matthew circled up the lobby staircase.
“I’ll have it done in three minutes!”

Zach went outside and met up with the
production crew and all the investigators.

“Anybody ready to hunt some ghosts?”

Chapter Fifteen

Armed with flashlights, a thermal cam, an
EMF meter, a digital EVP recorder and accompanied by a cameraman, Zach and
Rebecca stood at the doorway to Rosewood’s administration building. Splitting
into three teams of two investigators made the most sense. That way, they’d be
able to cover a good portion of the property all at once, and the different
makeup of the teams, one male, one female, one mixed sex, would give spirits a
choice of which team they felt comfortable interacting with.

At 9:16 PM, Zach held the two-way radio to
his mouth. “Everyone ready?”

“Team One is ready,” Bryce’s voice
transmitted back.

“Team Two, ready,” Patrizia said.

“Team Three, ready,” Zach broadcast to them.

“Tech Team, ready.” Matthew had been given
the honor of running the technical team’s walkie-talkie. Zach thought it a nice
compromise that he utter the show’s line to commence their search.  “
XPI
and
Demon Hunters
…investigate!”

“Are you ready?” Zach asked Rebecca, already
turning the doorknob.

“As long as there’s not ants.”

“What’s with you and ants, anyway?”

“I’ll tell you when I know you better.”

“When are you going to know me better?”

“Maybe,” she said. “Sometime when we’re off
camera?”

“Ah.
Touché
.”

They crept through the foyer using their
flashlights sparingly and keeping as quiet as possible. The cameraman followed,
his lights off in favor of a night vision setting. When they reached the first
office, Zach whispered to Rebecca. “Talk to them and try to capture some EVPs.”

She nodded and clicked on the recording
device.

“Hello? Is anyone in here that would like to
communicate with us?” She held the EVP recorder up and slowly moved it about
her, hoping to pick up digital recordings that were indecipherable to the human
ear. “We mean you no harm. We’d love it if you could show yourselves.”

Save the sound of crickets chirping, all was
silent.

Zach prepared his EMF meter and held it away
from the mini digital camera. He spoke. “If there is a spirit here, give us a
sign of your presence.”

Nothing.

“Knock on something,” Rebecca said. “We want
to know where you are.”

In a room down the hallway there was a
knock. They crept toward the sound’s origin.

“If that was you,” Rebecca called out, “do
it again, please?”

“Who are you?” Zach asked. “Did you work
here at Rosewood?”

“Come closer to us. We won’t hurt you,”
Rebecca said.

Zach’s EMF reading flinched and then spiked.
He nodded vigorously to Rebecca and motioned to her to repeat what she’d said.

“We won’t hurt you. We promise.”

There was a large bang in the foyer. It was
as if someone had opened and slammed the door. When Zach and Rebecca
investigated, no one was there.

“Team Three, entering the old stables
building,” Zach broadcast over the walkie-talkie.

“Copy that,” Matthew sent back from the
technical command post.

An odd feeling washed over Zach as he and
Rebecca continued to take EVPs and thermal cam readings throughout the old
stables building. He was bored. Other than a slamming door, there had been no
activity of note, and certainly no documentable scientific evidence. He’d
waited his entire life to investigate this place with the expectation, perhaps
unrealistic, that it would be an asylum of horrors, and at the moment, it was
just another case. Despite being called “the stables,” with the wood stalls
removed and any horse smells long disappeared, this could be just an ordinary
warehouse. He attempted to distract himself with the historical implications of
the building they were investigating. Built in 1892, it would have had a vital
use to store and care for the primary mode of transportation at that time.

Wendy had laughed at his ignorance when he’d
asked how long it would have been in use during Rosewood’s operation. “You
don’t know much about history do you?” she had said over the phone. “Zach, how
many cars do you think were in use back in 1903 when the hospital closed?”

“I don’t know. I know the automobile was
being produced in the late 1800s.”

“Right. And the computer processor was being
produced back in the 1950s but that doesn’t mean in the 60s every flower child
had a laptop!”

“Okay. I get it. So how many people were
actually driving cars in 1900?”

“At the turn of the century? Like less than
one tenth of one percent of the people, Zach. I mean in 1901, Olds Motor Works
was considered the mass producers of automobiles because it churned out about
400 cars.”

Despite her quasi-inappropriate dating
history, Zach had to concede that Wendy knew her actual history.

“Did you hear that?” Rebecca asked.

“Sorry,” Zach said. “I kicked something.”

They both trained their flashlight beams in
the direction of the noise. Zach’s spotlighted it first.

A Coke bottle.

Rebecca hurried over and picked it up. “Hey
this isn’t one of those replica-retro bottles. This is an old school 1960s,
1970s? Maybe earlier.” The wonder in her voice resembled that of an
archeologist having just discovered Atlantis.

“Pick an era, any era,” Zach said. “Over the
years, they tried to convert Rosewood into everything from a museum to a
retirement community. I think it was seven times that they started, and then
ended up halting rehab projects.”

“Because…”

“Something always scared them away.”

In a loud voice, Zach addressed the spirits.
“Is that what brings you out? Do you not like threats to your…home?”

He waved his EVP recorder in the air hoping
it would pick up a voice or a noise. Something.

“Give us a sign that you’re here,” Rebecca
said.

“Is the orderly who was murdered in 1899
still here?” Zach called out.

There was a moment of complete silence
except for the discordant hum of crickets. Then, from the far back corner, a
high-pitched moan could be heard. It sounded both forlorn and distant. Zach
motioned for Rebecca to repeat her question as they crept toward where the
noise had originated.

“Hello? Was that you?” Rebecca asked. “Can
you make that noise again? As a sign that it was you?”

They were arriving at the back wall when
they heard it again. This time, it was louder. The tingling sensation Zach had
been feeling turned to disappointment. It was the unmistakable sound of a
far-away, but quickly approaching, train horn.

“The three most exciting sounds in the
world: anchor chains, plane motors, and train whistles.”

“What?” Zach asked with attitude into the
phone.

After the disappointing investigation at
Rosewood’s outbuildings, he was in no mood for riddles. He and Rebecca were
making their way toward the backside of the hospital near the old visitor’s
room when Hunter Martin had called. Zach was filling him in on their
investigation.

“Anchor chains, plane motors, and train
whistles,” Hunter Martin repeated. “Sorry. That’s an
It’s a Wonderful Life
quote.”

“Some angel you are,” Zach said, imitating a
grumpy George Bailey. “It wasn’t a welcome sound at the time. The train tracks
run behind the industrial property that borders Rosewood to the south. Between
that and the muffling of the thick walls, we’d have to discount any reports of
moans.”

“Well, there has to be some truth to the
reputation of that place. I get a creepy feeling anytime I drive by it.” It
sounded like Hunter was currently in his car. “So even though you say this
Sashza has already done her psychic tour, you still want me there?”

“Absolutely.” Zach was hoping that Hunter
could provide clarity from Sashza’s readings. Without a clear understanding of
why Rosewood was haunted, Zach would be forced to induce one of his episodes.

“Hey, is there a coffee shop nearby there?”
Hunter asked.

The question was completely off topic, but
Zach answered. “Yes, a
Muses
. Why?”

“
Muses
?” Hunter’s voice had risen in
pitch.

“Yes.”

“Does that place mean something to you?”

“It might. Why?”

“I’m not quite sure. I get the feeling you
need to go there. Are you supposed to be meeting someone there?”

“Interesting. Maybe I’ll tell you when you
get here.” Zach hung up without saying goodbye like the way people did in the
movies. Hunter would understand—he loved movies.

Zach continued walking with Rebecca. They
approached Rosewood’s back wall and looked out where the female quarters had
once stood. Most of the homes were completely dark. The porch lamp on the house
where Joey and his mom lived emitted an amber glow.

“I think I should go and talk to those
people,” Rebecca said.

The comment caught Zach by surprise. “What
do you mean?”

“I need to...” Rebecca gazed at the houses
as if transfixed. “Suicides are buried there. I need to go. Tomorrow.”

“Sara and I talked to most of the residents
earlier. None would allow—”