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Despite the early hour, Melanie Ortiz made it to the site of the disturbance only thirty-five minutes after she was called. In her line of work, time was usually of the essence.
She pulled her car up to the curb of a building that had once been an apartment complex in its earlier life, but now was unfit for habitation. Graffiti covered a frankly impressive amount of the building's exterior. Most of the windows on the lower floors were smashed out, and some of the upper levels as well. The front entrance was missing a door, and the large plank of plywood that had been covering the open doorway had been thrown aside. Old yellow police tape that had been stretched across the front now fluttered in the hot, early morning breeze in tatters.
Often Mel had to travel as a member of the FBI's Paranormal Response Task Force, but today the disturbance was in her backyard, so to speak. A call had come in from the FBI's Santa Fe branch office, and she was close enough to drive to the site to take a look.
There were two black-and-whites and an unmarked car creating a barricade between the front of the building and the street, but the stances of the two police officers standing on the curb told Mel that there wasn't an immediate threat. She turned her car off and slid out from the driver's door.
Immediately a man who had been sitting in the unmarked car exited and started toward her. "Special Agent Ortiz?" he asked. She nodded, then shook his hand when he offered it. "Agent Sanford. Thank you for coming so quickly. We were told not to go in until you arrived."
"Usually a sound idea. I didn't get a lot of details when they called me in, what are we looking at here?"
Agent Sanford looked grim. "As far as we can tell, two vagrants broke in here last night or early this morning. About an hour and a half ago they were both thrown from a second story window onto the sidewalk here. We have a few early hour commuters as witnesses. Ambulance already took the two to St. Vincent's an hour ago." His voice dropped. "I was told one was pronounced DOA and the other was raving about monsters until she was sedated. They were both covered head to toe in this green goop stuff."
Mel held in a curse. She hated when cases started out bad. It usually meant things were only going to get worse. "Well. Let's hope whatever it is gives us some time to come up with some options."
She was proven wrong when the sound of shattering glass and wood snatched everyone's attention. This time she did curse, in Spanish. She usually knew better than to tempt fate like that.
Those on the sidewalk whirled toward the building just in time to see a gigantic, glowing head thrust its way out of one of the top floor windows, glaring down at them balefully. It looked like a cross between a walrus and a viking, and the fury on its face was unmistakable.
"Take cover!" Mel barked out, having a lot of experience with ghosts and projectiles. As she thought, they barely had time to duck behind their cars before the creature made a disgusting horking sound. Two huge balls of green ectoplasm struck the police cruisers, like a mad god throwing snowballs. The impact was enough to rock the cars on their wheels, but thankfully not enough to shove them into the frail humans using them for cover.
Cackling at its own cleverness, the ghost head yanked itself back into the building and the morning went quiet once again.
"What time is it?" Mel muttered as she pulled her mobile phone out of her pocket.
She was more speaking to herself than asking the other agent, but he answered anyway. "'Bout seven, why?"
"Because that means it's nine in New York." Mel dialed a number she had memorized.
"Ghostbusters," came the prompt, clipped tones of Janine Melnitz.
"Hi, Janine. This is Mel. I need a consult. Is there anyone available?"
"Everyone's out except Dr. Venkman, who, I quote, 'Has better things to do than chase trolls through the Bronx at the crack of dawn.'"
Mel sighed, but her lips curled up in a wry smile. "Okay, put him on."