IN FOUR DAYS (Saga Three — Day One)
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DAY ONE…
At 4:22 pm, Brett Sharp’s black and silver Nissan Accenta swung sharply into the hotel parking lot and skidded in the gravel. Painted on the side of the van, the neon green logo “72: I.I.” flashed in the dying light of the evening.
From the radio inside, a news anchor droned on, “While it has not been officially ruled out, police have not confirmed or denied that there was a possible prison break. No actual body has been recovered, yet the Philadelphia’s Medical Coroner’s office has reported that given the amount of blood recovered at the scene, it leads them to believe that Khirov Boulos would not survived the–“
“–You are cuttin’ it close, aren’t you?” Dominic complained as he bent down and grabbed his camera equipment bags.
“Shhhh! I want to hear this!” Brett snapped back at him.
“Unnamed resources stated this morning that he was a person of interest in another case agains–“
Stepping out from the passenger side door, Billie Sharp joked, “I think he faked it. Or maybe they faked it to throw off any attempts to get at him. Probably eating tax-payer-paid-for steak right now in some witness protection gig.”
“You assholes just hurry and load up the back. I want to get there before 7:30.”
Dominic, a skinny Hispanic twenty-year old, muttered choice words in Spanish under his breath. Billie held up his finger to his lips. “He’s in a mood,” he whispered to him as the pair grabbed the remainder of the equipment and the trip supplies.
As they sped away from the Super 8, music replaced the news on the radio. Dominic felt it was safe again to speak. “So how did you score this one, Maestro? No one has ever investigated the Foxworth Mines.”
Brett smiled a big, toothy grin back at him. He loved having his ego stroked. “Well, I floated the name to Sampson in Production at Station 14. Reminded him that Ratings Week was coming up just next month and that this could have some nice sizzle to it. He took it and like magic, here we are.” He used his fingers to smooth his blond bangs to the side then scratched at his thin beard scruff.
Dominic knew the Sharp brothers long enough to know their “tells”.
“Bullshit!”
“Wha-what?” Brett scoffed.
Dominic just locked eyes with him, showing his own toothy grin.
“Alright. Yeah. Bullshit. Pops wants me to attend some function of his next month. Think it’s another voter meet-and-greet. Told him I would only if he got me in the door at the Foxworth.”
Billie gawked at him. “Really? You leveraged Dad?”
Brett just shrugged his shoulders.
“Well, I don’t care. This is going to be big, boys! This might be the episode that launches 72: Isolation Investigations nationally.”
Now the young kid gawked at Dominic. “Yeah, you think?”
Dominic studied the younger brother for a second. He had known the pair for about three years; since their party days at Kappa Alpha Psi at Drexel University. While he liked Billie immensely more than the older brother, Brett was the brains of the trio. It was Brett’s drive and their father’s connections that got them their gigs across the states. 72: Isolation Investigations had filmed so far fourteen episodes in haunted locals ranging from abandoned hospitals to luxury hotels.
Tonight would be the first time ever that they would lock themselves in a mine for seventy-two hours. That was the show’s hook — isolated, they would conduct marathon investigations with no interruptions. All three days captured on Dominic’s cameras and edited on his laptop.
“You don’t know about Foxworth, Billie?”
“Isn’t it just a coal mine?”
“No, it’s more.” Brett jumped in. “Twelve years ago, it was shut down after a cave-in and they lost a whole mining crew of fourteen men. But even before that, the mine was notorious for accidents and tragedies.” He leaned over and shut the radio off.
“They say it’s cursed due to having slaves build the tracks and then they were worked to death inside the tunnels. Then there is the Trapper kids.”
“Trapper kids?”
“In the early 1900s, young children were used to open up trap doors inside the mine tunnels, allowing the coal carts in and out. This prevented gas build up. However, every so often a kid would up and disappear or die mysteriously. They say it’s the child spirits that haunt Foxworth and the Kennett Avery Manor.”
Brett took over again and broke out into his narrator tone — the same one he used when speaking history to the camera. Billie and Dominic both ridiculed and mocked Brett’s “Speaker-Mode” when he wasn’t around. In a deeper baritone voice, “There’s an elevator platform that goes straight to the bottom of a shaft called the Regis Shaft which runs 1200 plus feet down. The tunnels run east and west approximately 197 miles total. At the top, housing the entrance to the Regis Shaft sits the Kennett Avery Manor.”
“Stop that shit, Brett. I don’t even have the camera rolling.”
“It’s information you should know!” He snapped, glaring in the rear view mirror at him.
They didn’t talk much the rest of the three hour road trip. The Foxworth was just outside the small burg, Cranson, Pennsylvania.
At 7:48 PM they parked at the security post.
Security Officer McCutcheon took their papers and then led them to the front, double doors of the manor. It loomed three stories high and stood imposing over them in the gloom of the moonlight.
“Take this,” McCutcheon handed Brett a walkie-talkie. “Just signal me when you are ready to go into the mines. I am required to escort you.” The senior citizen guard had a permanent scowl upon his grizzled face. “And mind what you touch in there!”
With that he spun on his heels and stalked off back to the his cramped guard shack.
Billie teased, “You always make such loyal fans wherever you go, bro!” He paid for it with a sharp elbow jab to the ribs.
Inside, the Kennett Avery Manor was exactly what the trio expected and yet nothing like they had ever experienced. The air was electric and oppressive. The rooms were immense with high, cavernous domed ceilings. Shadows and patches of complete darkness obscured the furniture and paintings on the walls, but it hinted at lots of doors and long hallways. Brett had already instructed that before their arrival to have all the lights turned off so they could go immediately into investigation upon entering the building.
Dominic hauled out his main camera from his equipment bag while the Sharp Brothers positioned themselves next to a dual stair landing. Once the camera powered on, he gave them a three-finger count down.
On one, Brett grinned at his audience, “It is that time again, when we, the Sharp Brothers make another ground-breaking step into the Unknown — the Other Side — for you. Tonight on 72: Isolation Investigations we are pluming the depths of the infamous Foxworth Coal Mines.”
Billie led in, “In these 72 hours, we will explore the blood stained Kennett Avery Manor that rests on top of the Foxworth and then travel in her bowels that trave– “
“–CUT! Bowels? Really, Bro?”
“I thought it wou–“
“Let’s just skip the intro for now. I want to go explore this place already. This is freaking amazing and my legs and back are stiff as shit from sitting anyway. Billie, why don’t you try to use that time to pull your head out of your ass and think of better lines than what a drunk Rod Serling would have used.”
The kid dropped his eyes to the floor, his shoulders slumped.
Dominic deflected for him. “I want to get into that bell tower I saw that they built over the elevator shaft. I bet I can get some pretty cool landscape shots too from up there.”
The brothers turned together in sync and took the steps leading up the right stairwell. It was absolute dead silence except for their footfall echoes. As they ascended to the second floor landing, Brett halted abruptly and spun around to look at them. His eyes were wide and he held up his hand, then pointed at the camera.
Once Dominic nodded that they were recording, “Listen. ” Then Brett cupped his left ear and leaned toward the stair’s railing. From the ceiling a series of three chandeliers were hung. The back chandelier was slowly rotating counter-clockwise on its own accord.
“I can hear the gems clinking together.” Billie whispered to the camera.
Dominic tightened the view and zoomed in closer to capture the movement and sounds of the chandelier. After a few seconds it slowed to a stop.
Brett clapped Billie on the back good-naturedly, “You see that? This is going to a fun night of nights, bro!”
In ten minutes they found a series of narrow stairs leading up possibly to the bell tower. Other than the chandelier activity, nothing else had presented itself. They gathered before the door.
“Dominic, since you want some sky shots, you lead the way. I am going to go last and try to use the recorders to scan for EMFs.”
“Hey, Dom, maybe use the FLIR Thermal Camera up there too? See if anything is wandering above the grounds.” Billie suggested.
He nodded, but he was more puzzled by Brett’s proposal to look for Electromagnetic Fields. Nothing was powered on and the mines had been shut down for an extensive period. They normally would use the EMF Readers to disprove paranormal activity — high EMF numbers could make you dizzy or even make the hairs on your skin stand up. Little reactions that people tended to account as “ghosts”.
As the door to the bell tower opened, a wave of icy air flooded the room. The trio literally froze in their tracks.
Brett took his cue, “Hello? Hello? My name is Brett Sharp. This is my kid brother, Billie and our camera man, Dominic. We are not here to hurt you or push you out. ” He paused waiting for any response; all three of the men held their breath.
“If anyone is here with us, can you give me a sign? Maybe knock on something? Are you one of the miners or one of the children that lived here?”
Nothing.
The art of the ghost chase was to be patient, be determined yet respectful. They found that they had much better responses taking things slow and not push their presence onto whoever might be still around.
“I am going to come up now unles–” Dominic started to announce.
A door directly behind Brett shook in its frame and the handle squeaked as the door opened a few inches. No one dared to speak. The trio slowly shifted to look back at the door.
A soft rap of four knocks. Tap Tap Tap Tap…
“Are you one of the Trapper Kids?” Billie asked.
Tap Tap Tap Tap
They smiled at each other. The camera was getting all of this and it was a spectacular paranormal occurrence.
“We are not here to hurt you. Can you tell me–“
“–Damn!” Dominic cursed. “The camera’s battery just went dead.”
“Pop in the backups. You know the drill.” Brett barked at him. Battery drains were also a very common supernatural signal.
Dominic backed down the hall away from the brothers, hoping they could keep the encounter alive. He switched the cameras out versus taking time to reload the batteries. As the camera came on and he peered into the viewfinder, a child’s face stared back up at him and three words in red flickered across the screen.
DONT GO DOWN
He flailed backwards and threw the piece to the floor.
“WHAT THE HELL?” Brett screeched in rage and the brothers ran to their camera man sitting on the floor.
“I saw…”
Billie picked it up and looked into the view finder. He saw nothing abnormal.
Brett knelt down next to him. “Yo, Dom. You gotta pull it together. This is too big. You cannot blow it now. You cool?”
Before he could answer , Brett’s walkie-talkie blared alive. “Gentlemen, are you there?”
It was Officer McCutcheon’s gravelly voice.
“Yes!” Brett answered. He was near irate at the interruption.
“Seems we have a bit of a mix-up. There’s a tourist bus here. Their paperwork shows their reservations and that they are also set to spend the weekend here too.”
“Be right there.”
Dominic was left a few seconds alone in the room when the Sharps abruptly left. His eyes were wide in terror, looking everywhere at once. He felt eyes upon him too and the shadows crawling in around him. Cautiously he lifted up the camera and looked into the view finder once more.
The child was still there, standing before him, staring up into his camera intently. It was a little girl with short choppy black hair. The words in red came back as well.
DONT GO DOWN
DONT GO DOWN
Dominic bolted away.
