Ashes to Ashes (Experiment in Terror #8) (10 page)

“
Not the
nicest welcome,” I noted as I stared out the window. I could barely
see beyond the road’s guardrail—I knew the ocean was still out
there, right at our side, but the thick fog obscured
everything.

“
No, it’s
not,” Rebecca said. She tapped me on the shoulder and then placed
the small handheld camcorder in my hand. “But it makes for a
perfect intro on film. Perry, film this. Dex, find a place to do a
U-turn and drive through again.”

Dex and I exchanged a look at
Rebecca’s leap into production manager mode.

“
It has
begun,” he joked in a low, ominous voice.

He yanked the Highlander into a
U-turn, cutting off a Griswald-ish family in a minivan, and when I
was finished holding on for dear life, I switched on the digital
camcorder and filmed out the open window as we drove through
again.

“
Behold, the
town of Gary,” I said in lieu of narration. Rebecca had me doing
voiceovers after the fact. “It looks like it kind of
sucks.”

I could feel her glaring at me
but she couldn’t argue. Gary did look like it sucked. Even though
it was almost summer, the pines that covered the sloping
mountainside were a faded green, bordering on brown. The houses
looked weathered and were simple, most of them one story and either
shuttered into darkness by the trees or fronting a small yard with
a chain-link fence and cement walkway. All the curtains were sealed
shut and I didn’t see many gardens or the usual signs of
habitation, such as kid’s toys in the driveways or hummingbird
feeders.

The town itself wasn’t much
better. I couldn’t make out where the marina was or if there even
was a waterfront area (though I assumed there was since we were in
Tillamook Bay), so there wasn’t really a focal point to it except
for the main drag. There was a motel with a lighthouse motif, a few
woodcarving and fish shops, a smattering of diners, and a corner
store. Those were the only places that didn’t have a For Lease sign
across them or boarded up windows.

We’d just got there and already
the place was making me kind of sad.

“
So are we
staying at the lighthouse motel back there?” Dex asked
Rebecca.

She hummed. “I haven’t made a
reservation. The principal said we were welcome to stay on site if
we wanted to. Apparently the school nurse now is set up where the
old nurses’ quarters used to be, so there’s a few beds.”

I nearly stopped filming. “You
think we should sleep where the nurses slept decades ago?”

“
Don’t tell me
you’re scared,” she said teasingly. “I think it would be good for
the show. Don’t you think, Dex?”

I could tell he was looking at
me but I kept my focus on the camera. In the past, Dex would have
been the first one to jump into something risky and stupid, but
nowadays he was very careful and protective of me. He used to want
me to be scared—now he just wanted to keep me safe.

“
We’ll see,”
he said, and from the tone of his voice I knew that if I didn’t
want to stay there, I wouldn’t have to. It wasn’t so much that I
was scared, but the idea of really old beds and mattresses gave me
the heebie jeebies. I’d take a tacky hotel over that any
day.

“
Oh, that must
be the smoke stack from the old mill,” Rebecca said excitedly as we
neared the thing Dex once described as an “ancient dildo.” “You’ll
want to take your next left after we pass it and follow the road up
into the hills for four miles.”

Dex wheeled the SUV away from
the coast and we headed up along a long, winding road that
disappeared into the cover of trees. “Not exactly in the
neighborhood, is it?”

“
Apparently
the TB patients had to be higher up to get the best benefits.
Anyway, from what I gather it seems like all the children are from
Tillamook anyway. I’d be surprised if this town had many families
left in it after the mills all closed down.” She nudged me gently.
“Keep filming as we pull up.”

Dex made a clicking noise with
his tongue. “Hey, Becs, let’s not try and take over my role
completely. I know I was joking about the pie comment but Perry is
off limits. Only I get to boss her around. Well, attempt to,
anyway.”

“
Sorry,” she
apologized. “I guess I’m a bit nervous.”

“
Oh yeah?” I
asked, keeping the camera aimed at the road and the rows and rows
of trees that passed by. Dex was going to have a lot of editing to
do after this.

“
Yes, it’s
peculiar,” she said, her voice less chipper. “I don’t know why. It
kind of started as soon as I saw the fog. Perhaps it makes me feel
claustrophobic.”

I had to admit, I was feeling a
bit like she was. Though I knew it had nothing to do with the
blanket of fog and more to do with the slightly sinister, totally
apprehensive vibe that the area was giving me.

“
You think
you’d be used to fog, coming from jolly fucking England and all,”
Dex said.

She ignored that, and a few
minutes later we were pulling through a pair of massive
wrought-iron gates that were battle scarred with rust from the
relentless ocean air. On either side of the gates was a crumbling
stone wall about seven-feet high that stretched off into the dark
trees.

Before us was the long, wide
gravel driveway that led to an enormous white building. It was
slightly reminiscent of the mental institution that Dex and I
filmed at in Seattle but much longer and two wings and five floors.
With its pointed apex, it looked a bit like a European castle or
chalet hidden in the mountains.

The only thing about it that
reminded you it was a school was a colorful rainbow mural that
stretched along the outside wall of the first floor. Every floor
above that, however, showed peeling paint and decay.

“
We’re here,”
Dex said slowly. “And I’m suddenly grateful for the ghetto school I
ended up going to.”

“
No kidding,”
I said. We parked the car in the lot beside a private school bus
that said Oceanside Arts Academy and got out.

The first thing I noticed was a
change in the temperature and air quality. It was about five
degrees colder up here and pierced your lungs. The fog was lighter
too and you could see faint patches of blue sky if you looked above
your head. I reached back into the car and quickly grabbed my Kyuss
hoodie. Not very professional, but it was warm.

I looked at Dex and Rebecca as
they stood beside me, staring up at the towering building. “Are we
filming first or bothering with that later?” I looked at both of
them to ensure I wasn’t leaving one of them out. I knew Dex was
feeling a bit slighted when it came to filming now.

“
Well, if it
were up to me,” he said pointedly, “we would go in and look around
first before we start with the cameras. But Miss Sims here made all
the plans…”

She gave him a tight smile.
“And Miss Sims agrees with you.”

She turned and headed up the
driveway to the front doors. Dex and I walked a few paces behind
her, watching as she sashayed in her capri pants and striped boat
neck top, like she was about to board a friggin’ yacht in 1955.

I pulled at Dex’s elbow and
leaned into him. “Do you believe her spiel about claustrophobia, or
are you getting the weirds too?”

“
The weirds?
Kiddo, I have the weirds in spades.” He looked up again at the
building, at the broken windows and moldy curtains of the upper
floors. “This place is something else.”

“
You think
it’s going to be a good show?” I asked quietly.

His mouth twisted. “I’m not
sure what good is anymore. I think—I know—that this place is
definitely haunted as fuck. I’m just hoping we can get in and get
out with our lives and sanity intact.”

“
If I knew
better, I’d say you were being paranoid.”

He frowned. “You know there is
no such thing as paranoid when it comes to us.”

“
You two
coming?” Rebecca called out. When we both turned to face her, we
noticed a pale, heavyset woman standing at the top of the stairs
leading to the giant oak doors. Rebecca looked back, jumping
slightly as if she had a fright.

“
Are you the
TV people?” the woman asked in a nasally voice, the alabaster jowls
of her neck swaying. She reminded me of a Disney villain, which
probably wasn’t the impression she was going for. But with her dark
brown dress, severe eyebrows that looked like someone made
em-dashes above her eyes, and mousy brown hair piled high into a
topknot, it was hard not to make the comparison.

“
The internet
people, yes,” Rebecca corrected her as she came forward up the
stairs, dainty hand extended. “I’m Rebecca Sims, the production
manager for Experiment in Terror. I was the one emailing
you.”

The woman raised her nose in
the air, eyeing her carefully. I could tell her focus was fixed on
Rebecca’s polished red lips and nails. “I recall.” She shook her
hand and then turned her attention to Dex and I. Without realizing
it, both he and I had stopped where we stood and were just staring
at this terrifying woman. “And who might you be?”

I elbowed Dex to speak
first.

He sprung right into it,
marching forward and taking the woman’s hand in his. He pumped it
hard twice and then asked with that infectious smile of his, “I’m
Dex Foray, the only penis involved in the show. And who might you
be?”

I sighed. I should have spoken
first.

I immediately went up to her,
climbing the first two steps and shot her an apologetic grin. “What
he’s trying to say is he’s the cameraman and editor. I’m the host,
Perry Palomino. Thank you for letting us shoot here, Mrs…?”

She put her hands on her hips
and with a frosty expression said, “I’m Ainsley Davenport, the
principal of Oceanside. I’m afraid I wasn’t expecting you until
later this afternoon.”

Ainsley Davenport. Though it
wasn’t Ursula, the name suited her to a tee.

“
Sorry,” Dex
said, still smiling, which meant he was enjoying himself. “We had
to leave our last lodging in a hurry. You know how it
is.”

She gave him a dry, steady look
that stretched on for seconds. “I see. Well, I have a bit of
paperwork and some calls to make so I’m afraid I won’t be much help
to you until school is dismissed at three. I can get the nurse to
give you a tour and perhaps you can meet with Mrs. McIntosh then.
She teaches painting. She’s the one who…started this whole
thing.”

At that, she turned around and
went back into the building. The three of us looked at each other.
Should we follow? Stay here? But before we could debate it out
loud, a beanpole of a woman in a loose blouse and white pants stood
before us.

“
Hi,” she said
in a voice so timid and quiet that I found myself leaning forward,
trying to catch the words. “I’m Kelly. I’m the school nurse here.
It’s nice to meet you all.”

We quickly made our
introductions again, Dex being polite this time, then Kelly
motioned for us to come inside.

Though the outside of the
school looked like it was built hundreds of years ago, the inside,
at least on the first floor, looked beautifully refurbished. The
floor in the foyer was a shiny grey marble, the walls outfitted
with wall sconces and intricate paneling. Ornate light fixtures
gleamed from overhead. Though it didn’t look like a hospital, it
certainly didn’t look like a school either.

“
This is very
lovely,” Rebecca said admiringly.

Kelly nodded. She had this way
about her that reminded me of a heron. Her movements were slow,
lanky and calculated. “Down to our left are the administration
offices. It’s a small school, only about a hundred students, so we
don’t use all the space on the first floor. But Ms. Davenport made
sure that every single corner of the first floor has been
remodeled, some say even past its original glory.”

“
Is your room
down there?” Dex asked. “Rumor has it that it might be our bedroom
tonight.”

She nodded again, not meeting
his eyes. “If you’d like. It’s a very nice room. Come this way,
please.” She started off down the hall, Rebecca’s kitten heels
clicking as she followed.

“
Oceanside was
a very nice school,” Kelly called to us over her shoulder, “before
it burnt down, of course. No one knows what caused the fire, but it
destroyed absolutely everything. It was very strange and it
displaced a lot of children whose parents…well, it’s not for me to
say. But we needed a quick substitute.”

We passed by closed office
doors with embossed names printed on frosted glass, complete with
brass doorknobs. You’d think all this refurbishment and newness
would do something to quell that creepy feeling I had, but instead
I felt like the fog was following us into the building. I had to
keep looking behind me to make sure no one was there.

Kelly came to a stop before an
open door. She gave us a small smile, and now that I was closer to
her, I could see she had kind green eyes that contrasted vividly
with her strawberry blonde hair. “This school is for very gifted
children who wish to specialize in the arts. Or whose parents think
they should explore their talent. It costs a lot of money to attend
here and yet you should have seen the fuss they made when it came
to gathering funds to build the new school. Setting up Oceanside
here was a no brainer for most people.”

“
You don’t
seem to agree,” Dex asked astutely.

She raised a brow. “I’d rather
not work in an old sanatorium, if that’s what you mean.” She
cleared her throat, looking around sheepishly as if she’d be
reprimanded for speaking her mind, and then gestured to the room.
“This is my office. If you go past the door in there, it opens up
into the old nurses’ quarters.”