Episode 3-1: 2Spooky4Me

I spent three days in that medical clinic! It would've been more, but the good doctor knows his stuff and has his connections with experimental healing chemicals. My broken arm fixed itself at an amazing rate, and I've never felt better in my life. I just hope there were no side effects to this type of drug.

A week had passed since the bombing incident, and as soon as I could, I lent my helping hands on the case. Adams and Clyde decided to keep it a secret around the office, not letting anyone else know except the three of us. Oh, and the doctor.

I've got to say, even with our superior detective skills, we weren't any closer to finding the culprit. It was a serious threat to our Head Quarters, but we also had more work to do around here. If we dwindled too long, we could lose big cases that could pull plenty of money for Ispio.

Adams promised us that she'd keep the search up without us, but for now, she's got another call for us to check out.

This one's a weird one. A state over, in Warwick, Rhode Island, there's been frequent calls about one location. A simple warehouse stands in the back roads, and the local police department has checked it out plenty of times and always finds nothing of interest. The story changes with this building. The reporting party will call for screams coming from within, or glowing windows, or flaming bodies running outside late at night.

See what I mean? Those are just a few reported scenes.

The local P.D. has decided that they can't waste resources on this place anymore. Personally, I find this call rather childish, but I trust Adams to know what she's doing.

Getting there won't take long, especially with Barry and his private jet. Clyde and I were told that every piece of equipment would be stationed at our drop zone, so it saved us time without having to pack.

*** *** ***

Warwick, Rhode Island

The stealth jet dropped us off in the dead of night, and next to an unmarked grey van. An obvious present from the company.

I point at the van. "I think that's our ride."

Clyde looks over to it. "Looks like it."

I get in the driver's seat while Clyde climbs in the back. The van was packed with tons of surveillance equipment, ranging from sound radars, heat detectors, electromagnetic readers, and plenty of other stuff I didn't even know how to use.

The drive was six miles down the road, but there was absolutely no traffic. Makes sense, it's 03:00 hours right now. I pull up to the warehouse and its desolate parking lot. The road is cracked and full of potholes, and there was only one, dead tree hanging over the building. The warehouse itself was shanty-looking and obviously abandoned.

I circle around the place once with the headlights off and found that there were three exits in total: the front door, the back door, and the side door. The van had portable cameras that could be stuck to the walls, so we stick one on each exit and hook the feed to the monitors in the back via wireless connections.

I park the van in the back, where the public driver wouldn't be able to spot us. Then I climb in back with Clyde and begin surveillance detail.

An hour passes, and the radars showed nothing. Now I remember why I hated surveillance missions! Clyde was the only one who was prepared to wait for so long as he brings out his favorite flask and takes a sip.

"I wish you wouldn't drink on the job so much," I tell him.

"I wish my job didn't drive me to drink so much."

"Oh please, you're being over-sensitive."

He gives me a stern look. "We sit in a cramped van for hours at a time and listen to static."

"At least we have each other," I say with an innocent smile.

"Yeah, don't remind me," he says and takes another sip.

"Oh Clyde, always a ray of sunshine in my life," I sarcastically comment. I turn away from him and avert my eyes back to the monitors. Still dead activity. "Okay, you're right! This sucks hard!"

He takes another sip. "Uh-huh."

More time passes. How much? I really don't know, but if I had to guess, I'd say at least an hour and a half. My bloodshot eyes stare tiredly at the monitors, which still show no signs of activity. No heat signatures, no decibel readings, nothing on video, what's the point!? I rub my eyes frustratingly and look at Clyde. He's just reclining back in his seat, holding an empty flask and looking rather pleased with himself. I need to shake the boredom!

"Hey," I call out.

He looks spooked at the sound of my voice. "What?"

"I'm bored."

"What are you, a child?"

"Entertain me!"

"No. Entertain yourself."

"How about a game?"

"Let's play the quiet game."

Admittedly, that actually irritated me. I would've said something back, but a buzzing noise cut me off. Clyde jumps up and looks at the monitors.

"What is it?" I ask, "Heat source, a sound, something on camera!?"

"No," he calmly says, "-it's the EMF actually."

"What? I don't even know what that does."

"It detects electromagnetic fields of energy, or maybe just a pulse."

"Hang on, how did that happen!?"

"I don't know, but we better follow the readings if we hope to get any leads."

Clyde was right, it's the first sign of activity we've had all night. Who knows when we'll get another chance like this. We throw on our jackets and pull out our guns. The back door was ajar, letting us slip in silently. It was pitch black in there, but that's why we have our night vision spectacles.

I switch mine to thermal view, but I pick up nothing at all.

"See anything?" I whisper to Clyde. He shakes his head in response.

I take off the glasses and crack a flare instead. The interior was pretty empty besides a couple of boxes and plenty of support beams. I just don't get it. We're standing right in the center where the EMF said the pulses were coming from, but there's nothing here except us.

"I think that gadget is broken," I tell Clyde.

"Yeah," he agrees. Suddenly his eyes dart above my head, and he shouts with a frightened expression, "Look out!"

I turn around to see one of the big, wooden boxes floating above me. It hurls itself at me, and I was only saved by pure reflex as I duck down. The box narrowly grazes the top of my hair and explodes into thousands of wood chips behind me.

I heard Clyde's gun go off, and I swiftly join fire with him. I was confused about what we were shooting at since there was no obvious target to focus on. Three bullets come from my gun before I bolt for the door. Clyde notices me and decides it would be best to follow my lead.

I push the squeaking door open with plenty of force, and take cover behind the van. Clyde slips around the corner with me, gasping for air.

"What the hell was that!?" I ask.

Clyde gives a wide-eyed look at me. "I don't know, but that box was floating for real!"

"Wha- Well let's get back in there, man!"

"Do I look like a fuckin' Ghost Buster to you!? This is something way out of our league!"

Clyde was right. We've never faced something like this before. I don't even believe in the supernatural, but I can't doubt what I just saw. Putting the clues together: no heat signatures, nothing on camera, electromagnetic fields spawning out of nowhere, it's a damn ghost!

"Fuck this," I say, "we gotta report this to Adams!"

Clyde nods in agreement and takes the driver's seat this time with me in the back. He spins out of the parking lot and speeds down the long stretch of road that got us here. There was a motel nearby, a perfect place to camp out for the night.

*** *** ***

The place was far from a 5-star palace, but I wasn't picky tonight. We paid for a single night's stay with the company's money, one room, and unfortunately one bed. The girl behind the counter that handed us our keys had a jealous look on her face. I think she got the wrong idea.

I thought the lobby looked crappy, but it was a rococo mansion compared to this room. Peeled wallpaper, unknown stains, and debris littered the room. Debris! Seriously! I take out my personal cell phone and begin scrolling through the contacts until I found Carlotta Adams.

"Shush, it's ringing," I tell Clyde, even though he wasn't even making any noise. He just proceeds to remove his shoes.

"Adams," she says. I lay down the details of the current events. At first, she was going to reject the whole idea and cut my paycheck, but I manage to turn her mind around when I add all the clues I discovered. "Ah, that's strange."

"I know! So, what would you have us do now?" I ask.

"Stay awhile and check it out again. I mean, you've used technology that could do wonders. Don't you think that's what your enemy is doing?"

Truthfully, I never thought about any alternatives. Now I feel silly...

"Yes ma'am. We'll get back on the case tomorrow night." She disconnects the line after that.

"What's going on?" Clyde asks, already getting comfy under the covers.

"There's a theory that it was advanced technology that we witnessed today. It would explain why none of the radars went off except for the EMF meter."

He sits up. "Makes sense. Those bastards really got us tonight."

I smirk. "More like got YOU! I was as cool as a cat."

"Yeah right!" he says while rolling to his side, facing his back towards me. I walk up to the opposite side of the bed and lift the covers up, but Clyde quickly spins around and knocks my hand away.

"Hands off, femboy! I call the bed tonight."

"Quit being so immature! C'mon, it's cold tonight."

"Aww, looking for some extra body heat?"

"If you'd be so kind."

"Ha! Okay, but if I find a hole in my pants-"

He knows comments like that make me flustered. I place my hands on my hips to aggressively scold him, but that just made him laugh at me. Eventually, he settles down, and we get a crappy night's sleep.