Chapter Three
Everest
Getting the courage to go out in the field after that day wasn’t easy, but we’ve finally managed to get back in the swing of things.
After our third successful field day, I worked up the nerve to start going through the photos I took at the coordinate house.
I had chills the entire time I clicked through them.
One by one, odd things started to stick out.
To say that the place was creepy is an understatement.
How did we not notice that there was no dust on any of the light fixtures or appliances?
Yet the antique canvases on the walls and tabletops were coated in dust so thick you could probably measure it with a ruler.
The number of things that we overlooked while we were there is just asinine.
We’re literally paid to pay attention to details that other people miss. It’s our job.
Another week or two later, I managed to type up a mediocre piece on the coordinate house and post it to the blog. Our boss was absolutely ecstatic with it, but I was absolutely not. Something about that place was off, and the more time I spend thinking about it, the worse it gets.
I’m positive that our boss doesn’t understand. That place wasn’t just creepy, it felt… alive. I still get this unsettling feeling whenever I think about it… Like it was watching me. Like it’s still watching me. I can’t escape it, and it makes my skin crawl.
As much as I hate the feeling I get when I think about that place, nothing we’ve seen lately has satisfied my itch for the hunt.
I’m bored. I can’t even lie and say that being at that house didn’t positively light my body on fire.
It was exhilarating, mysterious, and… and…
life changing. It’s shifted my all-time high, and now I need more.
I need something that will entertain me, and the shitholes we’ve been seeing lately?
They just don’t cut it. I need something that gives me a spark to run with.
Something I’ll feel passionate about, and that will give me enough inspiration to really write.
“Had any good submissions lately?” Axel asks as he leans against the doorframe of my office, sipping his coffee.
He doesn’t even have to say it, I know that he feels the same way.
He isn’t satiated either, and it’s blatantly obvious.
He’s got that same itch under his skin that I have, that incessant desire for stimulation.
We need something, anything, to give us the buzz of exhilaration.
We’re both walking around with hairpin trigger irritation, and ingesting caffeine like it’s what we’re actually being paid to do.
I’ve spent this entire week awake until early in the morning researching places that we could go, but there’s just…
nothing. A lack of sleep, entertainment, and sex? We’re both fucked. No pun intended.
“I just sat down, Axel. I haven’t even turned on my computer yet.” I grumble in frustration.
He gives me an annoyed glare before he strolls over to his own office.
I press the little power button on my computer and wait patiently as it whirs to life.
I start flipping through the daily newspaper the secretary left on my desk as I wait for it to load up.
There’s not a single interesting thing in this paper.
Do they pay the people who write these articles?
Seriously? No one cares that the ice cream shop owner just turned sixty-five.
What? Should we throw him a party? Jesus.
I check to see if my computer is done loading before I turn the page and continue scanning through the paper.
Apparently, the guy did need a birthday party, and the mayor did in fact throw him one.
Is that some kind of joke? That’s what my tax dollars are being used for?
That? There’s been a gaping pothole, resembling a lunar crater, on my street that has been ignored despite my repeated complaints.
Seven complaints, to be exact. When I blow out my tire, I’m sending the bill to them, I swear.
I scoff and roll my eyes as I fold the paper back up and theatrically throw it in the trash can with disdain.
I click to open my email before my computer is fully loaded, so I have to spend an astronomical amount of time twiddling my thumbs before the browser window finally pops up. Thank god I have my own laptop that I work on when I’m not sitting at my desk, because this thing belongs in a damn museum.
“Junk… Junk… Junk…” I whisper to myself as I click the little trash can icon beside each email as I scroll down the screen. Department store ad. Furniture sales. Pet store? I don’t even have a fucking pet.
“Oh!” I perk up excitedly. At the bottom of the list is a reply to an email that I was certain would continue to go unanswered.
Re: Blightridge Penitentiary Inquiry
I hover my cursor over it, debating whether or not I even want to open the damn thing.
I glance at the wall towards Axel’s office as I turn the thought over and over in my head.
The Blightridge Penitentiary tip came in the same message as the coordinate house, and the results of that were…
conflicting. We spent a lot of time on that project, and the payoff was lacking.
Even though our boss was pleased, I felt like we didn’t get the full story, because…
we didn’t. My curiosity wins, though, and I wearily click to open the email.
Inviting you to stay…
Compensation…
Amenities…
“Holy fuck… that is a lot of money.” I whisper to myself.
I continue reading, and my body is already thrumming with excitement. This is the feeling I was looking for. This is what we needed.
I roll my chair toward the wall that separates Axel from me and bang on the it. “Axel get the fuck over here!”
“I’m still checking my emails, Ev. Give me a minute.” He huffs with irritation.
I bang again. Harder. “No! Get. The. Fuck. Over. Here.” I growl through the wall before I push myself back over to my computer to continue reading the email.
“Jesus, Everest. This better be fucking good,“ he grumbles.
He steps into my office moments later, and I gesture for him to shut the door as he enters.
He scowls as he shoves it closed behind him, most likely because I never close my door.
I want privacy right now though, because if Axel doesn’t want to go to Blightridge, there’s no way in hell that I’m going alone.
Absolutely-the fuck-not. I don’t want our boss to overhear anything and demand that we go, so I intend to keep this a secret until we make a decision for ourselves.
Axel comes around my desk, and I turn the monitor a smidge so that he can read all the shit on the screen. It’s a lot of information, so I scroll back to the top and push the mouse toward him so that he can start from the beginning.
“Holy shit, Ev… They actually answered.”
“Not only did they answer, they’re acting like we’re esteemed guests. Have we made it big or something, and I don’t know about it?”
He glances over at me and then back to the computer screen. “That’s weird… right?”
“I mean, kind of, but they could be hoping for publicity to help them receive grants or government funding. In the grand scheme of things, they could earn a lot of money off of us writing an in-depth exclusive article. The information that we could get over that period of time… it’s— Jesus.
It would give us a piece that we’d never be able to top, Axel.
“ I explain as I lean back in my chair and cross my arms.
“Three months! Holy shit, Ev! That’s a long fucking time.” He says as he straightens up and looks down at me nervously.
“Three months in a private, secret prison. Google it, Axel. Come on. Just humor me.“ I say as I gesture to the keyboard.
He narrows his eyes at me before he leans down and opens a new browser window.
He types it into the search bar and glances at me before clicking ‘go’.
A few links for speculatory feeds pop up, but aside from that?
Nadda. It’s literally only conspiracy theories from prison fanatics, and nothing else.
I know, because I read them. All of them.
We would literally be making history with an article about this prison, even if we only visited it for a day.
Three months there? Holy fuck. It’s unheard of even for a normal prison, let alone one that has absolutely no information available to the public.
“Man, I really don’t want to do this, but this shit will never happen again. This is what people are talking about when they say that something is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.“ He whines as he runs his hand through his hair.
“Why don’t we keep this on the DL for now. I can reply and let them know that we’ll meet with their lawyer to go over the terms, and then we can decide if it’s something we wanna do.”
“Yeah… okay. That makes sense.”
I paced around for most of the day yesterday, and I could hear Axel doing the same thing in his office.
I still feel like crawling out of my skin with something akin to…
impatience. Axel seems a lot more wary than I am, surprisingly.
While I’m slightly concerned, I’m just so tired of being stagnant.
I wanted something more, and there is absolutely nothing that could top this.
Living in a prison that’s locked down as tight as this one for three months with minimal strings attached?
It just doesn’t get more interesting than that.
I am slightly perturbed by the thought of what the hell I’m going to do with myself after this experience, but that’s a problem for future Everest.
Twenty minutes after I replied to the email, the Blightridge coordinator, Ollivander, had already sent an email back with our appointment time and location. That was almost twenty-four hours ago, and now Axel and I are taking a seat across from the lawyer to go over their terms.
“Afternoon, gentlemen.” The frail old man says as he approaches the desk at approximately the same speed my work computer loads.
Axel and I both curtly nod in reply as we watch him sit down and pull out three sets of documents. He hands each of us a stack, a very large stack, and keeps one in front of himself.
“I’ll go over each section of the contract with you.
I’ve been instructed that you have forty-eight hours from the time you leave my office to return these documents.
Signed. If there are any terms you do not agree with, they are open to hearing your rebuttals, but they did inform me that they typically do not make amendments.
If the documents aren’t signed, then the arrangement will likely be voided. Everything clear so far?”
We both nod in agreement and patiently wait to hear what comes next.