Ike Hamill - The Hunting Tree Trilogy

“Four point six,” said Gary.

“I’ll tell those guys and do it really quick,” said Mike.

Gary shrugged again.

Outside, the producer coached Leslie—“Let’s go from the top again. Just dumb it down a tiny bit more this time. Give it to me so my grandmother would understand what you’re saying. Just ghosts, and making them stronger.”

“Sorry to interrupt,” said Mike. “I have to go move one of the cameras.”

“Let’s get that,” said the producer, nodding at Mike.

“Okay,” Mike trotted over to Bill’s front porch as Leslie moved further down the face of the building to get a clean shot of the house.

Upstairs, Mike turned the tripod to cover the area where Gary had felt a cold spot. Mike moved in front of the camera, trying to reproduce the feeling that his assistant had mentioned. He reached down for his radio, so he could ask Gary and Katie if the camera was repointed well. His hand found his belt, but the radio usually clipped there was absent. Mike felt panic flood up over him as he realized that he was out of communication with his team.

Remembering the microphone placed near the camera, he leaned down and addressed his team—“Can you guys hear me? I left my radio down there. I’m wondering if the camera is placed well. I guess there’s no real way for you to let me know. I’m coming back down.”

Mike nearly wet his pants when Katie’s voice rang out.

“Check your back pocket,” said Katie. “I saw it when you were walking towards the house earlier.”

Mike reached back and blushed when he found the radio clipped to his back pocket instead of its normal location.

“Thanks,” he said into the radio.

“Did you move the camera? We don’t see any difference here,” said Gary over the radio.

“Yeah,” said Mike. “I sure did. What do you mean, no difference?”

“We still have the exact same scene as when you left,” said Gary.

“Are you sure you’re looking at the live feed? Sounds like you’re looking at replay down there. I’m currently in front of camera three.”

“What’s that, Mike?” asked Katie. Mike heard his assistants discussing the camera position before Katie released the radio send button.

“I said that I’m in front of the camera,” Mike spoke slowly and with a slightly raised voice.

“That’s negative Mike,” said Gary. “We’re looking at live feeds and we have no visual of you on any camera.”

“Impossible,” said Mike. He moved quickly between the bare stud walls and waved his hand in front of a different camera. “How about now?”

“Still nothing,” said Gary. “Stay put, I’m going to bring a cable tester to you.”

“I’m at camera five,” Mike said into his radio.

“Got it,” replied Gary.

Mike walked around the bare floor and glanced at the readouts of the different cameras. Everything appeared to be operating normally, and no camera showed any signs of a communication problem with the van. Gary crested the stairs after a few seconds and tracked down Mike.

“Did you tell the news guys?” asked Mike.

“Yup, don’t worry,” said Gary. “I gave them the whole story.”

“Let’s get this fixed,” said Mike.

Gary removed the cable from the fifth camera and plugged into a handheld device as he explained to Mike what he was looking for. “We could just be seeing a digital lock on this signal,” he said. “Any loss of signal on these digital devices can make the signal totally freeze up.”

“You know what’s weird about that?” asked Mike. “I reviewed the footage and I saw plenty of dust and random noise in the image. It didn’t look like a still frame at all. There were plenty of normal video artifacts.”

“Maybe it happened after you came up?” suggested Gary.

“Did you leave the amp on?” asked Mike.

“Yeah,” said Gary. “Four point something,” he said.

“Five point five,” Katie announced from Mike’s radio.

Gary furrowed his brow. “That’s too much,” he commented.

“Go ahead and shut it off for a second please Katie,” Mike.

They waited several seconds before she responded: “It won’t shut off.”

“What do you mean?” asked Gary slowly.

Mike felt all the hair on the back of his neck stand up and a deep chill, as if his bones had turned to ice. A frigid breeze passed by the men, fluttering Mike’s shirt. The skin on his arms tightened as Mike shuddered against the sudden blast of cold.

“Guys?” Katie sounded panicked over the radio. “What’s going on? Two of the cameras just shut off, and this thing will not …” her voice dissolved into static. The radio chirped and buzzed with feedback until Mike reached over and turned the knob.

“What was that?” Gary whispered.

Mike whipped around but found nothing moving or out of place. “Stay calm,” said Mike touching Gary’s elbow.

Gary’s unfocused eyes didn’t react, but he pulled his arm away from Mike’s touch.

“Gary? It’s time to go,” said Mike. He felt uneasy and spooked by the cold, but couldn’t determine a cause for Gary’s sudden stupor. He wondered if his friend could hear him at all. The color had left Gary’s face.

Mike shoved the radio in his pocket and moved behind Gary, guiding his shoulders and pushing him back towards the stairs.

“It’s huge,” slurred Gary, a line of drool escaping the side of his mouth. Mike felt another chill as he regarded the profile of Gary’s empty expression. The lights flickered twice, coming back on just as the filaments of the bare bulbs glowed red, and then powering back up even brighter than normal.

“Let’s get going, Gary,” said Mike. His shoves only elicited shuffling steps from the unresponsive man. “Come on Gary. We need to get back out to the van.”

Gary froze and pushed back against Mike’s prodding. When he looked him in the eye, Mike wished Gary had stayed catatonic: his eyes were wild, and filling with tears.

“Mike, we can’t leave now. It will kill us both,” said Gary. His mouth stayed open; his lips peeled back, baring his teeth.

“What are you talking about? We’ve just got an equipment failure and we’re going back to the van to fix it,” said Mike. He tried to sound convincing.

“But it’s huge,” Gary responded. He clamped his jaw shut and shook his head sending spit flying. When he looked up the intelligence had returned to his eyes. “Mike, we have to get out of here.”

“Yes,” said Mike, taking a deep breath for the first time since Katie’s last transmission. “Stairs,” he said, pointing through the rough-framed door opening and down the short hall.

They rushed together through the door and out to the hall. Gary reached the steps first, but pulled up and stopped again, turning to face Mike. “Hey Mike?” he asked.

“What, Gary? Let’s go,” said Mike.

“But remember when I said it was huge? I think it might have bit me,” he said, as he looked down to his own side.

Mike followed Gary’s gaze down, but veered off to glance at his friend’s crotch, where a dark wet spot was spreading across his jeans. The acrid hot smell of Gary’s urine stung Mike’s nose and then another wet spot caught his eye.

It was a dripping pool of blood forming under Gary’s right hand. Actually, Mike corrected himself, it was a dripping pool of blood forming under the stump where Gary’s hand had once been attached.

Mike gagged back vomit as Gary slowly raised his stump, pumping thick ropes of blood to the floor through a tangle of sheared bones and glistening gore.

“I think I might…” Gary didn’t finish his sentence.

Mike’s puke burst up his throat just as he tried to drag in a breath. Most of the retch became redirected out his nose, but a fair amount flowed into his lungs, dropping Mike to the floor in a coughing, vomiting mess. He looked up between spasms to see that Gary still stood between him and the stairs and still regarded his own stump thoughtfully as blood gushed down his arm. Mike choked on a fresh torrent of recycled lunch and clawed a wide arc around Gary to reach the stairs.