Free Flowers in a Dumpster by Mark Allan Gunnells Page A

crazy. I know what I saw.”
    “It could be a haunted plant,” Topher said. “That would be a first, huh?”
    Kinsley slapped his arm. “Knock it off.”
    “I think we’ve all wasted enough time,” Cane said. “Let’s do a tour of the cemetery to see if we get EMF spikes in any particular location. If so, we’ll concentrate there for a while.”
    Cane and Topher started off. Kinsley remained, staring at the strange plant, before she followed.
    ***
    They’d been at it for hours and they had absolutely zilch to show for it. There wasn’t anything on the camera and no unusual EMF readings. Cane could only hope they’d caught an EVP or two, otherwise this night was proving to be a total bust.
    They were taking a break near the Wilmington River, while Kinsley changed out the batteries in the digital voice recorder. When she first announced the batteries were dying, Cane got excited. Inexplicable draining of batteries was often a sign of spirits trying to manifest. But then Topher admitted he’d forgotten to charge the batteries before they left.
    “Do we really have to keep this up ‘til dawn?” Kinsley asked.
    “That’s what we all signed on for.”
    “Yeah, but it’s dead out here.”
    “Pardon the pun,” Topher added. He stood on the base of a large monument, taking a closer look at a life-sized statue of Jesus that was partially covered in moss. The statue had one hand stretched out, and which Topher grabbed it as if they were shaking. “Hey, someone get my picture. Topher Bridges and the Son of God, having a meeting of the minds.”
    Kinsley laughed, but Cane just sighed. He sat on the ground with his back propped against a tombstone. He was tired. No, beyond that. Exhausted. He had such high hopes for this investigation, truly believing it would be the one to put S.C.A.D.P.I.T. on the map. How could Bonaventure have yielded nothing? The prior three investigations had all resulted in some findings. Nothing definitive or earth-shattering, but a few orbs and EMF spikes, and outside the Mercer House they’d captured some garbled static on the voice recorder that sounded like someone (Jim Williams?) hissing, “I was poisoned.”
    But here, at a site purported to be one of the most haunted places on the planet, they were coming up empty-handed. It didn’t seem possible. Worse, he’d bragged to several people about this investigation (although he’d sworn Topher and Kinsley to absolute secrecy). How would he face them later to admit he had nothing to show from spending the entire night in the cemetery?
    With another weary sigh, Cane said, “Let’s just call it a night.”
    Topher, who had gone on to pretend the Jesus statue was strangling him, straightened up so suddenly that he almost toppled off the monument. “Are you serious, dude?”
    “Yes, I’m serious. Let’s just pack everything in and go home.”
    Hope and doubt seemed to be warring in Kinsley’s eyes. “Even though we haven’t found anything yet?”
    “That’s precisely why we’re calling it quits.” Cane stood up. “If anything was going to happen, it would have happened by now.”
    Topher jumped down and walked over. “It’s not like you to give up. You feeling okay?”
    “I just don’t see the point of continuing a fruitless investigation. Having zero findings isn’t going to earn us any recognition or get the group any closer to being sanctioned by the school.”
    “Yeah, but we’ll try again, right?”
    Cane looked from Topher to Kinsley, making an effort to rekindle his passion for the hunt, but he just felt drained. Maybe his father was right. Maybe this whole paranormal investigation thing was a childish waste of time. “Why don’t we—”
    He was interrupted by a loud noise that startled them all. It sounded like cables snapping. Lots of them. Coming from all around.
    “What the hell is that?” Kinsley said, sidling up behind Cane to grip his elbow.
    Cane took a moment to thrill at her touch—when he’d