the flood on earth again
In the past few days, Estella has watched something brew and then sort of explode from hundreds of miles away - nestled safely on her favorite island in Hawaii, she probably could have left it alone, but of course when the signs come to you, you don't ignore them. This is part of the gift, and the spirits she spoke with have been marginally helpful in pinpointing some of the problem. It's located in New Jersey, and after the incredibly uncomfortable conversation with Brody the other day, she's not as surprised as she probably ought to be to get coordinates that suggest that's his location. Later, if at all possible, she'll thank Harvestman and Jim.
If she gets out this building alive, she tells herself, she will not tell anyone that she went marching in armed only with the spirit-dogs (two, black, big, angry-looking, of indeterminate species), her wits, and her magic. The first thing she does is check for a security system, which exists but is not hugely sophisticated. Estella slides her ID card out of her pocket and holds it up to the key, watching as a handful of numbers enter themselves.
To keep her awareness up, she offers a promise to the (not very healthy, she notices, with an unpleasant twist) spirit of the building: you let me know what's going on, and I'll feed you another spirit. I have one waiting.
There's a buzz at her temples, like static in her head, and it acquiesces. In she goes. With the spirit talking in her ear, in its thin, sick-sounding voice, it's much easier to discern whether or not she's got company. Unfortunately, what it's telling her is that she has tons of company - company that's...the smell of unwashed, unhealthy human deterioration hits her like a ton of bricks, wafting toward the doorway, and she stops to almost gag and breathe through her shirtsleeve.
Company, yeah. Company that's in the walls.
She really hopes Brody isn't one of those poor fuckers already.
Though she is armed, the dogs with her (who keen and whuffle at the God-awful scent their sensitive noses pick up even better than her own, not liking it anymore than she does) are better protection. Communicating with three spirits at once is tiresome, and sort of distracting, but she'll take a percocet for the headache when she gets the chance and then just keep going, because if this is just the beginning, God only knows what the real dirty secret at the center of this building is.