Authors: Courtney Alameda

Trigger (6 page)

Oliver and I designed my camera's technology together, after he'd taken apart an old Nikon and realized it had a tiny mirror inside. We nearly wound up dead the first time we tried to exorcise a ghostâthe average glass lens worked as an insulator against their electrical energy. Every once in a while, I'd catch Oliver looking at one of my quartz lenses and chuckling, remembering.

“It's a hospital, Ollie,” Ryder said. “They've got to have emergency generators.”

Oliver placed a finger on his comm. “Their servers are down, so I can't access their network to check on the building's status. The breakers are likely blown.”

If the entity consumed enough power to surge the breakers, no wonder Marlowe's men hadn't survived. Ghosts were charged, electrical beings that absorbed energy from the space around them. Weak ones were shivery spots and a prickle against the skin; strong ones were surging storms. It took an incredible amount of energy for a ghost to open a portal into the living worldâor in some cases, luck. Once a ghost existed on this plane, it had to consume enough energy to maintain its presence here. With the breakers blown in a six-story building, the ghost upstairs could probably bench-press our Humvee by now. Or maybe rip it in half.

“Can we connect their security systems to the generators mounted on the Humvees?” Ryder asked.

Oliver's brows rose. After a moment, he came back on: “Logistically, no. I need to restore power to their servers on the sixth floorâ”

Thank God for logistics
. I wanted the boys blind to my movements.

“âBut I'm running the GPS and radar diagnostic on the hospital now,” Oliver continued. “The satellite scan is being blocked by an electrical disturbance inside the building.”

So the boys wouldn't be able to track me via the security cameras or GPS.
Perfect
. I didn't need Oliver's technology and toys to track a ghost. My eyes worked better than any GPS unit.

A shadow shifted in one windowpane. A coal-colored figure disappeared from sight. I narrowed my eyes, wondering if I'd been mistaken. Nobody could have survived up there, unlessÂ â¦

Unless the person standing in the window wasn't alive.

My heart kicked. Ryder was looking out his driver's side window, giving instructions to Oliver.
Now.

I grabbed my camera's monopod off the backseat, kicked my door open, and leapt out as Ryder shouted at my back. I slid into the crowd.

Alone.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Courtney Alameda
is a veteran bookseller and librarian. She holds a degree in English Literature with an emphasis in Creative Writing from Brigham Young University. She lives in Salt Lake City, Utah. You can sign up for email updates
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