Part 15 (1/2)

”No,” I a.s.sured him. ”I was just thinking how odd it is that the phantom doesn't seem to come down those stairs.”

”It's not that unusual,” he replied. ”Especially if it wants to stick close to the gold and protect it.”

”Maybe,” I said, but something about the phantom haunting only the top of the rock bothered me.

I was silent for a few moments and Heath nudged me. ”What're you thinking?”

I inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. ”That we might want to find out what its range is.”

”That could be dangerous.”

I cracked a smile. ”And this bust has been such wholesome fun so far?”

Heath appeared to waver at my suggestion. I saw his hand move to one of the canisters tucked into his tool belt. We'd come to the rock somewhat ”unarmed.” Neither of us was openly wearing magnets, but we'd brought enough canisters to give the phantom pause should we encounter it.

Finally, he said, ”Let's tackle Kincaid and Bouvet first, and see how we feel about playing tag with the phantom after, as long as we have time.”

”Cool.”

I switched off my flashlight and Heath did the same. I then pulled out one of the small handheld cameras with night vision and flipped it on. Looking through the view screen, I considered the dark green landscape. ”You want to go first?” I asked Heath.

”Sure,” he said, before cupping his hands around his mouth and calling out to Kincaid. ”Jordan Kincaid! If you can hear us, please give us a sign!”

We both listened for any unusual sounds, but only the wind and waves reached our ears. ”Jordan Kincaid!” Heath called again.

I counted to ten, and focused the lens of the camera all around the rocks. Nothing moved and there were no unusual shadows lurking about.

”Try Bouvet,” I suggested.

”What was his first name again?”

”Gaston.”

Heath called out to Gaston, but there was no reply. I closed my eyes and focused on the ether, flipping my intuition on to high. There was a mixture of energy there at the base of the rocks. I could feel the tragedy of the three lives lost, along with other older rifts in the ether. ”This rock has seen a lot of death,” I said.

Beside me, Heath reached for my hand. ”I can feel it too. But none of it wants to communicate.”

I tucked the camera into my messenger bag and turned my flashlight back on. ”I say we move to the stairs and see how far up we can go before we start triggering the phantom.”

Heath held my hand firmly, keeping me next to him. ”Tell me why again?”

I was thinking about the crypt where Dunnyvale was interred, and about the journal entry that Kincaid had entered the night he died. He'd talked about those crypts and I just knew there was a reason Alex had gone to explore them. My own intuition was tugging me up those stairs back to that secret door, and I felt compelled to honor the impulse.

”I just want to know what our boundaries are,” I told him.

Again Heath appeared to waver.

”You can stay here,” I told him. ”I'm okay going alone.” Man, was I good liar or what?

Heath slanted his lids at me. ”You're not going alone.”

”Cool,” I said, pulling my hand from his. ”Then let's get to it.”

I hurried ahead of Heath lest he think it a good idea to pick me up and haul me away caveman-style. That was only okay if we were near a bed.

We reached the stairs and I checked myself. We had to proceed slowly and carefully; otherwise, that phantom could be on both of us faster than we could react.

While holding the flashlight in one hand, I lifted out a canister with my other, and held my thumb against the rim to pop the cap quickly should I start to feel the phantom's energy. Looking over my shoulder, I asked Heath if he was ready.

”No,” he said, pulling out two canisters himself. ”But I'm not letting you go it alone.”

I smiled winningly at him before turning back to the stairs. We moved up slow and steady-like, pausing every so often to listen for any sign of any spirits including the phantom.

As I climbed, I'd periodically shone the beam of my flashlight to the left, searching for that hidden door.

”It's up a little further,” Heath called from behind me.

He knew me too well.

A few minutes later he tugged on the back of my s.h.i.+rt. ”There,” he said, pointing out the door in the shadow of my beam.

I stopped on the stair opposite the door. ”I have a gut feeling.”

”You think Gopher's in there?”

I shrugged. ”I'm not sure. But something's tugging me there.”

Heath tucked one of the canisters under his arm before closing his hand over my wrist and moving the flashlight up the stairs. We were about three-quarters of the way up, and nerve-rackingly close to the phantom's territory.

No dark shadows presented themselves, and although the edges of my senses were picking up the uncomfortable feeling of being near the phantom, I didn't feel that it was about to attack us.

Of course, I hadn't truly sensed that it was about to attack me the last time either.

”Your call,” Heath said, nodding his head toward the door.

I took a deep breath and edged my way to the entrance of the crypts. The door was heavy and difficult to pull open, but with little more than a loud nerve-jarring screech, it allowed us to pa.s.s through it.

We stood in the dark entrance for a few beats, waiting, listening, and feeling the ether.

”Someone's here,” I whispered, sensing the telltale signs of a spook nearby.

”Yep.”

I quickly turned off the flashlight and got my camera back out. Flipping it on, I held it up to eye level before clearing my throat and saying, ”h.e.l.lo?”

”Bonsoir,” said a very soft voice, and Heath and I both jumped. said a very soft voice, and Heath and I both jumped.