Storm of Lightning (11 page)

“I'm pretty sure that was an episode of
Scooby-Doo
,” Tessa said.

Tom just smiled. “Another time a woman, a college professor, told me that she felt someone get into bed with her. When she rolled over to see who it was, no one was there.”

“She was probably just lonely and dreamed it,” Tessa said.

“Maybe, but
she
certainly believed it. She had reserved the room for three nights, but she packed up and checked out in the middle of the night. We have an entire binder filled with supernatural accounts recorded by our guests. Most are simple things, lights or televisions turning on and off in the night, or strange sounds coming from the radiator. Especially in room 333.”

“All old radiators make strange sounds,” Tessa said. “Old buildings make noises.”

“You may be right, but after hearing these stories for the last ten years, you begin to think that there must be something going on.”

“Logically, I'd come to that conclusion,” Ostin said. “Though it's possible that the expectation created by previous ghost stories might create an expectant psychological environment for mob hysteria.”

Tom just stared at Ostin.

“He always talks that way,” Tessa said. “It's annoying.”

“Actually, I was admiring his vocabulary,” Tom said, handing out our room keys. “And here is 333 for you,” he said, handing the key to Nichelle.

“Thanks,” she said.

“Is there a restaurant nearby?” Ostin asked. “I'm starving.”

“Yes, sir. We have our famous Saddle and Spur Tavern just behind you to your right.”

While we were getting our keys, Scott took out his cell phone to make a call. I glanced over at him. He looked as frightened as if he
had seen a ghost. He hung up his phone, shaking his head. “I can't believe it.”

We all turned to him.

“What?” I asked.

“The plane is gone.”

“What do you mean
gone
?” Zeus said.

“Boyd flew out the same night we landed.”

“Why would he do that?” Tessa asked.

“There's no reason. . . .” He stopped, the look of concern evident on his face. “There's no
good
reason.”

“Could he have been working with the Elgen?” Zeus asked.

“I've known him since he was nineteen. He wouldn't leave without us unless”—he closed his eyes—“something bad happened.”

Taylor looked at Scott. “What do we do now?”

“I need to go over to the airport and see if anyone knows what's going on,” Scott said. “Ian, could you give me a hand?”

“No worries.”

“And, Tessa, we could use some amplification powers.”

“Yeah, I'm down.”

“I'll go too,” Zeus said, taking Tessa's hand. “In case we need some firepower.”

“We should all go,” I said.

“No,” Scott said. “I think it's best we not keep all our eggs in one basket. I'll take Ian, Tessa, and Zeus. Michael, I want you to keep everyone else together.”

“How long will you be?” I asked.

“It's only twenty minutes from here, so no more than two hours. If you haven't heard from us by then, you'll know something's wrong.”

“All right, we'll stay together until we hear from you,” I said. “Call our room if you have news.”

“Which room will you be in?” Scott asked.

“The haunted one,” Nichelle said.

A
fter Scott left with Ian, Zeus, and Tessa, the rest of us followed Ostin over to the hotel restaurant, the Saddle and Spur Tavern. The restaurant appeared to have been newly renovated, and the textured plaster walls were painted pale yellow and decorated with the markings of dozens of different cattle brands. The floor was made from stained, dark wood planks, and against the main wall there was a long bar with chrome-and-black-vinyl barstools. On the opposite side of the room was a brightly lit jukebox.

We pushed two tables together and sat down. Less than a minute later a waitress walked out to us.

“Hi, y'all. I'm Carla. How are you youngsters tonight?”

“Fine, thank you,” Taylor said for all of us. I don't know how long it had been since anyone had called me a youngster.

“You must be headed to Mexico on vacation.”

“We just got back,” Taylor said.

“Oh? What did you see?”

“Carnage,” Ostin said.

McKenna gave him a scolding look.

“Mexicans,” I said. “Mostly.”

The waitress laughed. “I suppose you would.”

“So is this place really haunted?” Nichelle asked.

“Sure is, honey.”

“Have you seen a ghost?”

“Not the headless phantom you hear everyone talk about, but every now and then the electricity in here will go kind of haywire, blenders turning on, lights turning on and off, lights flickering.”

“Sounds like bad electrical wiring,” Ostin said.

“I thought you said you believe in ghosts,” I said.

“I do. But I'm logical about it.”

The woman grinned. “All the electrical was redone last January when we remodeled the dining room. A while back we had a ghost expert come through here. He was from one of those ghost hunter TV shows. He said that ghosts and poltergeists are really just electrical energy, so they're attracted to electricity. Some say they eat electricity.”

“Great,” I said. “That makes us a banquet.”

Taylor playfully punched me on the arm.

“We're definitely going to see some ghosts tonight,” Ostin said.

The woman looked at us with a quizzical expression, then said, “So, down to business. What can I get y'all to eat?”

“We all want lemonade,” Taylor said.

“Except me,” Ostin said. “I'll have a root beer.”

“Six lemonades, one root beer.”

“. . . And throw in a couple of orders of these bacon-wrapped jalapeño poppers,” Ostin said.

“All right. I'll get those going; then I'll be back to get the rest of your order.” She walked away.

After she was gone, Nichelle said, “If ghosts are electric, I should be able to feel their presence. Maybe even affect them.”

“That would be cool,” Ostin said. “You could be like the ghost punisher.”

“Can we stop talking about ghosts?” Taylor said. “It's creeping me out. And we already have enough to worry about.”

“Yeah, like paying for dinner,” I said, realizing I only had Taiwanese NT and pesos. “Does anyone have any American dollars?”

“I'm sure we can charge it to the room,” Ostin said.

When our waitress returned, we ordered bean-and-cheese burritos, a taco salad, beef tacos, and chicken fried steak. After we finished eating, I said, “We better go up to the room, in case Scott calls.”

“I'm going to stop at the front desk and see if they'll let me borrow their ghost binder,” Ostin said.

“I want to read that too,” Nichelle said.

We charged our meals to the room, then stopped at the front desk. The clerk let Ostin sign out the ghost book, and he took it with him as we went to the third floor, room 333. The room was at the end of a long corridor, lit eerily by green lights.

“Look,” Taylor said when we reached the room. The door had been painted dark green, and people had scratched names and messages into the door. Someone had scratched a 666, and someone had crossed it out and scratched the word “JESUS” above it with a cross.

The hotel's “historic rooms” were a sharp contrast to the splendor of the lobby.

“This looks like my old room in Pasadena,” Nichelle said, looking around.

“They must not have gotten around to remodeling this part of the hotel,” Taylor said.

“They did,” Ostin said. “It was just sixty years ago.”

“It's just one night,” I said. “It still beats camping in the jungle.”

While Ostin, Taylor, McKenna, Abigail, Jack, and Nichelle looked over the ghost book, I lay down to take a quick nap. I must have been more tired than I realized, because just a few minutes later I fell asleep. When I woke, Taylor was sitting next to me on the bed.

“How long have I been asleep?” I asked.

“About an hour.”

I looked at my watch. “Has Scott called?”

“No.”

“How long has it been?” McKenna asked.

“Almost two and a half hours,” Ostin said.

“He said two hours at the most,” Nichelle said, looking up from the ghost binder.

“They'll call,” Taylor said.

“What if he doesn't?” Nichelle asked.

I looked over at Jack, who also looked concerned. I was really blinking. “Well, there's not much we can do this late at night,” I said. “We don't even have a car.”

“I can hot-wire a car,” Jack said.

“And go where?” Taylor asked.

“The closest big city is Tucson,” Ostin said. “It's about a hundred miles north of here. We should go there.”

I thought for a second, then said, “If we haven't heard from Scott by four a.m., we'll find a car and drive to Tucson. In the meantime we stay together in the same room. And everyone should try to get some sleep. It might be a while before we get the chance again. I'll keep watch.”

“I'll keep watch with you,” Taylor said. “I'm not that tired.” She yawned almost immediately after saying that.

While everyone else slept, Taylor and I sat on the burgundy shag carpet next to the door, listening for sounds from the hallway. It was quiet until a little after one in the morning, when there was a sudden rush of footsteps. At first I thought we were under attack by an Elgen patrol, but as I looked out the peephole, it was just a bunch of college kids who had probably come down to the border for a wild weekend.

About a half hour later Taylor fell asleep. I lay back against the door trying to keep my eyes open. Fortunately I had a lot to think about. And I was ticking a lot, which always makes it harder to sleep. I thought about the ghost, too. If there were such a thing, I wondered if I could shock it. Or scare it.
Do ghosts get scared?

Around two thirty in the morning the radiator began making a
strange knocking sound in a distinct pattern, almost like someone was tapping out a code on it. I wished that Ostin were awake to decipher it. I was intrigued, but it didn't frighten me. I was more afraid of what I knew existed in the world than something that I couldn't see.
Why hadn't Scott called? What could have happened to them?

I must have fallen asleep a little after that, because I woke with a start. I was lying with my face next to the door, and I could hear slow, heavy footsteps in the hallway. I heard them go up and down the corridor, finally stopping near us. I quietly stood and looked out the peephole. There was a man dressed in black standing two doors down on the other side of the hallway in front of Ostin's and my room.

I watched him for a moment, then carefully woke Taylor, holding my hand over her mouth to keep her from making a sound. She looked at me with a confused expression. “Someone's out there,” I whispered. “Wake Jack.”

Taylor crawled over to the bed and gently shook Jack.

“Wha . . .”

She put her hand over his mouth. “Shhh. There's someone outside.”

The man tried the door handle again; then he took something out of his pocket, slid it into the door lock, turned the handle, and went inside.

“He picked the lock,” I whispered. “He's inside my room.”

While Taylor woke everyone else, Jack went into the bathroom. He came out wielding the towel bar like a club in one hand. Everyone else gathered around the door.

“Now he's going into the room across from us,” I said.

“My room,” Jack said.

“Is he Elgen?” Ostin asked.

“I can't tell. He's wearing all black and a face mask. I think he has a gun.”

“You can see a gun?” Jack asked.

“No, he's wearing a vest. But it has a bulge.”

“I wish Ian were here,” Taylor said.

“I wish they were all here,” I said.

“How many are there?” Jack asked.

“Just one,” I said. “That I can see. But if he's Elgen, you know he has backup.”

“This is like Taiwan all over again,” McKenna said.

“Except this time we're only on the fourth floor,” Ostin said. He walked over to the window and looked out. “There's a roof about fifteen feet down, then another about the same. We can tie bedsheets together and climb down.”

“Good idea,” I said.

“What's the plan?” Jack asked.

“When he touches the doorknob, Michael can shock him,” Taylor said. “Then we escape.”

“Bad idea,” Ostin said. “If he has backup, they'll know we're here and storm our room.”

I thought for a moment. “He's going into the rooms alone,” I said softly. “I say we let him in. If it's just him, we can take him. If he's here with backup, we need to make them think everything's okay until we have time to escape.” I turned back. “Ostin, Abi, McKenna, and Nichelle, you guys take the sheets into the bathroom and tie them into a rope.