at the satchel on the chair beside the bed. “Maybe we can track down some new batteries for the camera tomorrow. Those pictures might show us something we can’t remember … or didn’t see.”
“Oh my gosh,” Neil said, sitting up on his bed.
Bree stepped away, as if he might explode. “What’s wrong?”
“The flashlight. The camera. When we were in room 13, the batteries died almost instantaneously.”
“And?”
“According to Alexi and Mark, that’s a sign that something is trying to manifest.”
“Manifest?”
“Appear. Make itself known. A spirit doesn’t have its own energy, so it needs to take energy from other places in order to do stuff.”
“Stuff like what?”
“Like what happened in room 13.” Despite himself, Neil smiled a bit. This was good. He and his sister might not be taking after Mom and Dad after all.
“So you’re saying that thing we saw was a ghost?” said Bree, crossing her arms. “And that this ghost somehow drained the batteries from the flashlight and the camera? To do what?”
“Show herself to us.” Neil nodded. Bree simply stood there, her chest heaving. He knew that she was freaking out — especially since she wasn’t talking about freaking out.
“That’s an interesting theory,” Bree said. Exactly. Totally freaked , Neil thought. “I-I’m tired. I’ll see you in the morning. We’ll replace those batteries. See what we can find.”
Bree closed his door, leaving Neil alone. He slipped under his covers and stared at the ceiling. He briefly wondered how his mother was doing at that moment, down in New Jersey. Then he closed his eyes and tried to shake her face out of his head. Instead, he thought of the ghost: his wonderfully disturbing new distraction. Why would Nurse Janet want to show herself to him? Why had she appeared to Aunt Claire down by the water’s edge? And most important, he wondered, had his camera picked up her image before she’d sucked the batteries dry?
Neil turned off the lamp next to his bed. The suburban street lights back home always seeped through his curtains, providing a calming sense of the world outside. Here, the room disappeared into the dead blackness of the countryside night. After a few seconds, his vision adjusted and he made out small details: knobby wooden posts at the end of his bed; the outline of the tall, thin windows; his own skinny hand in front of his face.
Closing his eyes again, sinking into the soft down pillow, Neil’s brain buzzed to see the contents of the camera’s memory, but when he imagined what — besides Nurse Janet — might be represented there, a strange sensation teased him, as if Graylock’s shadows had followed him home, nipping at his heels.
Just before sleep took him away, new questions arose in his mind. Would the asylum in the woods be a salvation, a new kind of hideaway from his troubles? Or was it a trap, pinning him to the darkness of his shadow self?
What was it worth to learn the answer?
T HAT NIGHT , N EIL DREAMED OF THE HOSPITAL .
He was in the back of a van. He couldn’t move. Glancing down at his body, he realized he was strapped to a wheelchair. When the vehicle abruptly stopped, someone opened the door, and someone else guided the chair down a wooden ramp to a paved road in the middle of a dense wood. He tried to turn his head, to look around, but his spine was locked down too, tied tightly to a high metallic spindle. Forced to face forward, he saw the road led straight toward a familiar island.
The chain-link fence was gone. The concrete bridge was in perfect shape. Crossing the water, he noticed that the surface was clear of green scum. The healthy reeds grew with an almost cultivated appearance trim, straight, clean.
Ahead, Graylock Hall waited with a blank expression. If places were capable of thought, this building cared about nothing. It knew it would have him eventually. The boy in the chair was simply another meal, one more soul to sit in a waiting room that
“Oh my gosh,” Neil said, sitting up on his bed.
Bree stepped away, as if he might explode. “What’s wrong?”
“The flashlight. The camera. When we were in room 13, the batteries died almost instantaneously.”
“And?”
“According to Alexi and Mark, that’s a sign that something is trying to manifest.”
“Manifest?”
“Appear. Make itself known. A spirit doesn’t have its own energy, so it needs to take energy from other places in order to do stuff.”
“Stuff like what?”
“Like what happened in room 13.” Despite himself, Neil smiled a bit. This was good. He and his sister might not be taking after Mom and Dad after all.
“So you’re saying that thing we saw was a ghost?” said Bree, crossing her arms. “And that this ghost somehow drained the batteries from the flashlight and the camera? To do what?”
“Show herself to us.” Neil nodded. Bree simply stood there, her chest heaving. He knew that she was freaking out — especially since she wasn’t talking about freaking out.
“That’s an interesting theory,” Bree said. Exactly. Totally freaked , Neil thought. “I-I’m tired. I’ll see you in the morning. We’ll replace those batteries. See what we can find.”
Bree closed his door, leaving Neil alone. He slipped under his covers and stared at the ceiling. He briefly wondered how his mother was doing at that moment, down in New Jersey. Then he closed his eyes and tried to shake her face out of his head. Instead, he thought of the ghost: his wonderfully disturbing new distraction. Why would Nurse Janet want to show herself to him? Why had she appeared to Aunt Claire down by the water’s edge? And most important, he wondered, had his camera picked up her image before she’d sucked the batteries dry?
Neil turned off the lamp next to his bed. The suburban street lights back home always seeped through his curtains, providing a calming sense of the world outside. Here, the room disappeared into the dead blackness of the countryside night. After a few seconds, his vision adjusted and he made out small details: knobby wooden posts at the end of his bed; the outline of the tall, thin windows; his own skinny hand in front of his face.
Closing his eyes again, sinking into the soft down pillow, Neil’s brain buzzed to see the contents of the camera’s memory, but when he imagined what — besides Nurse Janet — might be represented there, a strange sensation teased him, as if Graylock’s shadows had followed him home, nipping at his heels.
Just before sleep took him away, new questions arose in his mind. Would the asylum in the woods be a salvation, a new kind of hideaway from his troubles? Or was it a trap, pinning him to the darkness of his shadow self?
What was it worth to learn the answer?
T HAT NIGHT , N EIL DREAMED OF THE HOSPITAL .
He was in the back of a van. He couldn’t move. Glancing down at his body, he realized he was strapped to a wheelchair. When the vehicle abruptly stopped, someone opened the door, and someone else guided the chair down a wooden ramp to a paved road in the middle of a dense wood. He tried to turn his head, to look around, but his spine was locked down too, tied tightly to a high metallic spindle. Forced to face forward, he saw the road led straight toward a familiar island.
The chain-link fence was gone. The concrete bridge was in perfect shape. Crossing the water, he noticed that the surface was clear of green scum. The healthy reeds grew with an almost cultivated appearance trim, straight, clean.
Ahead, Graylock Hall waited with a blank expression. If places were capable of thought, this building cared about nothing. It knew it would have him eventually. The boy in the chair was simply another meal, one more soul to sit in a waiting room that
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