Chapter Four
CHAPTER FOUR
SHE SIGHED HEAVILY and rolled her eyes. Of course, he would want a quote. Asako flipped off the desk lamp and jiggled the mouse off her computer activating the screensaver. If she was lucky, she could get across campus and see if anyone was still around from the Halloween carnival. But it was late and she had her doubts.
She exited the student union, the glass door closed behind her with a thud. Her breath curled in front of her into pale clouds, the night air was brisk. She glanced at her watch the glow reading 10:30 PM. She pulled her wool coat tighter, cursing under her breath.
Her fingers tightened around her notebook as she trudged across campus. The frost-covered grass crunched beneath her feet as she made the ten-minute walk from her office to the nearby rugby field where the Halloween carnival was being held.
As she arrived, the large stadium lighting was extinguished one by one, plunging areas into pockets of darkness. Just a few lights remained, casting hard white beams across the remnants of the event. The sickening smell of fried food and burnt sugar lingered in the air, though the throngs of students had dispersed hours ago with the temperature plunging.
She quickened her pace, her boots clicking on the concrete. Spotting several unsavory-looking attendants making their way down the main path surrounded by booths on each side. Their laughter was sharp and brash as their cigarettes glowed between their fingers.
“Excuse me,” Asako called out, her voice firm.
One of the carnival workers turned, his silhouette illuminated by the faint glow of a nearby floodlight, a rough-looking man turned around pulling a cigarette from his lips. Asako recoiled internally, the man was rough-looking, older than she expected. His face was weathered by years of outdoor labor. He exhaled a plume of smoke from his lungs, but it seemed mixed with breath and condensation creating an eerie haze around his face.
“I’m with the Ledger, the campus newspaper,” she said stepping closer. “I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions about the Ferris wheel thing that happened tonight?”
The man’s eyes narrowed to slits, he looked Asako up and down. She scrutinized him in return, taking in his grease-stained jeans, scuffed work boots, and a battered jean jacket — entirely too thin for this weather. He looked out of place on a university campus, like he belonged at a truck stop on the interstate somewhere down south.
“I don’t talk to reporters,” He grumbled, flicking his cigarette to the ground. It hissed as it hit the damp pavement.
Asako trailed after him, “Just a brief comment about the incident tonight for the article. I’m covering the story, it’s not like anyone got hurt.”
The man scoffed, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets, and continued towards his car, “Tell that to the kid who hurt his head.”
Asako froze for a moment, then jogged to catch up, “Head?” She repeated.
“Yeah,” he said, not breaking his stride, “Some kid drug his boyfriend off the ride. The kid complained about his head the whole time,”
Asako’s pen hovered over her notepad as her mind raced. She mentally reviewed her notes. There were two names she had jotted down from the tip that had come from the Ledger’s anonymous tip line, Jason Havelock and Ethan Hernandez. The tip hadn’t mentioned anything about anyone being hurt.
“Do you know what happened?” She asked.
“Hell no! Why should I know that? I just work here.” He said shooting her a look over his shoulder. He approached a beat-up car park beneath a flickering parking lot streetlight.
He pulled the keys from his pocket and unlocked the car. The door creaked on its hinges and he climbed behind the wheel. Jamming the keys into the ignition, the engine sputtered before rumbling to life.
Asako stepped closer, she shivered as a frigid breeze cut through her coat, “Wait,” she said raising her voice over the rumbling of the engine. “Before you go — off the record. What caused the malfunction?”
He surveyed her dubiously as he rolled down his window. Asako held her breath, thinking he might refuse to answer. Surprising her, he shrugged, blowing into his hands to warm them.
“A power surge,” he said finally. “Shot through the whole damn place. Nearly blew one of our generators.”
Asako frowned, she gently bit the tip of her pen. “A power surge?” She repeated. “Does that happen often?”
The man nodded, “Never. It was weird as hell. Never seen anything like it before. We work hard to make those rides safe. It’s how we make our living. The Ferris wheel just locked up, like it had a mind of its own.”
He shifted in his seat, adjusting the heater vents. “Look I don’t know what kind of freaky stuff goes on at this college, but that was not normal. You ask me, you should be talking to the campus maintenance staff, not us.”
Asako thanked the man and she stepped back from his car. He rolled up the window and drove off. She watched as the red tail lights of the car pulled away, her mind churning with the details.
A power surge. Someone with a head injury. Two names from her notes — Jason Havelock. Ethan Hernandez.
She stared at the notepad and underlined the names. Something about these names on this night scratched her intuition. Asako turned and walked towards campus, the campus bell tolling in the distance.