Project 17 by Laurie Faria Stolarz Page B

apart in a few days. I don't have time to get another crew. I need you guys." I place the camera on the ground, fighting the urge to hurl it against the wall.
    "Well, I'm not going anywhere," Mimi says.
    "And how about the rest of you?" I ask.
    But none of them even looks at me.
    "This is my only chance," I say, running my fingers through my hair in frustration. "Don't you get it? If I screw this up, I'm stuck working in a diner for the rest of my life."
    "What are you talking about?" Tony asks. "Forget it," I say, grabbing my camera. I go to pack it up and get the hell out, but Liza approaches me.
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    She nudges my hand away from the off switch, making my heart beat fast. "Leave it on," she says finally. "I'll stay."
    "Are you sure?" My lips shake just forming the words.
    Liza stares at me, her giant green eyes filled with fear. I feel like a complete and total asshole for even thinking about letting her stay. "I'm sure," she says, not sounding like she's sure at all.
    But she moves into the tunnel anyway.
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    DERIK
    WE BOOT IT THROUGH the door at the back of the basement and enter into the narrow tunnel, the smell of rot and decay plugging up my nose, making me want to yack. Paint is peeling everywhere, and chunks of the ceiling have fallen onto the ground. I maneuver through it all, following the paint-splotched signs for Building A, noting how the writing is red. Like blood.
    Like some bad horror flick.
    The perfect setting for my movie.
    The banging sound continues, but I can't tell where it's coming from. My headlight continues to flicker. I stop and smack the thing again.
    "Did you bring extra batteries?" Tony asks.
    I shake my head, pissed at my own stupidity, but luckily the light starts working.
    "Listen for a second," Greta says. "Did you hear that?"
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    "What?" I turn toward her.
    "I thought I heard something squeak." She points to a door, like for a utility room or something. It's open a crack.
    "I don't hear anything," Tony says.
    "Maybe it was a rat," Chet says. "You gotta assume a place like this has got some dog-sized ones."
    "Or human-sized." Mimi shoots Chet an evil smile.
    We listen for a couple more seconds, but it's just dead silent. Then we hear music--the sound of a little girl's voice singing Happy Birthday, making me almost shit myself.
    "Sorry," Greta says, grabbing her cell phone and checking the caller ID. "It's just my ringtone."
    "Nothing like a little evil children's music to lift the spirits," Chet says.
    "Who is it?" Tony asks.
    Greta smiles, checking the number. "Don't worry about it," she says, stuffing the phone back into her bag.
    But Tony doesn't let up, continuing to try and get her to spill it about the phone call. Meanwhile, I lead everyone forward through the tunnel, surprised that a cell phone would even get reception down here.
    My shoes are drenched from stepping through puddles, making it feel even colder, despite how fast we're moving. Finally, we get to the end of the tunnel, to the main building. I lead them up a staircase. It's falling apart in places; some of the steps have collapsed. There's a rusted metal fence that divides the staircase in two--to separate the
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    men and women, maybe, or maybe the crazies from the even craziers.
    "Where are we going?" Tony asks.
    I stop a second at the top of the stairs, angling my headlight over the map, trying to figure things out. The place is a freakin' maze. "We need to find the reception room," I say, noting how far away it is, how it seems you need to access it from another floor. "I thought we could start there--use it as a meeting place."
    "I want to look around first," Mimi says, peering down the long corridor. There are rooms to the right and left. A clock hangs off the wall, the time stuck in place at quarter till three.
    I nod, eager for the footage, noticing how Liza seems a bit more together now. "Are you sure you're okay with this?" I ask her.
    But instead of answering, she steps away--into one of the patient rooms.