Chapter Three

       Cori moved her head slowly. All the way to the left. Then, all the way to the right. Marta’s eyes were glued to her computer scene.

       “I’ve never seen so many ghosts!” exclaimed Marta into Cori’s ear.

       “I thought you said you hadn’t ever seen a ghost,” whispered Cori not wanting to disturb the room full of spirits.

       “Well… I haven’t,” replied Marta more quietly. “But, if I had… I’m sure I would have never seen this many! Who is the guy in the white coat?”

       “Like I know!” answered Cori. “But, the only people who wear white coats are doctors and rock stars.”

       “Since he’s holding a saw dripping with blood, I think we can rule out rock star,” Marta concluded.

       “Ok, I suggest we make a rapid retreat,” began Cori. “I think we have a major need for knowledge here.”

       Marta sighed in relief as she watched the elevator doors close and Cori’s finger press the button 5.

       “I know you know a lot about what you’re doing here,” began Marta. “But, I just wasn’t getting a good feeling from those guys.”

       “Well, you’re right,” Cori nodded, making the images on Marta’s computer wave up and down. “We need knowledge. The more knowledge we have, the safer we’ll be.”

       “Did it look like a hospital to you?” asked Marta.

       “Yea, I think it was,” Cori agreed. “I couldn’t see very clearly. I should have gone further into the room.”

       “Next trip,” suggested Marta. “First, let me see what I can find out about hospitals during the Civil War.”

       Just then, the doors opened into the hallway where Cori had first connected the camera. Marta was happy to see the calm, ghost-free hallway once again.

       “There’s no place like home,” teased Marta.

       “Just glad we’re here and not still there. I hate being in a roomful of ghosts when you don’t recognize a single face!” laughed Cori. “Ok, shutting down your images…”

       Marta’s computer screen went blank.

       “You’re gone,” reported Marta. “Guess I’ll go, too. We have a huge need for knowledge here. I better get on it.”

       “Send me an email?” Cori asked.

       “You’ll know it as soon as I do,” promised Marta. “See ya later.”

       “Yea, later,” Cori said as she clicked-off the cell phone.

Cori. You Have Mail!

• Email
• From Marta
• To Cori
  
  The need for knowledge? Here’s what I found about Civil War hospitals on a quick trip around the internet. Hope you’re not eating anything while reading this! J
  
  First, back then, it seems doctors didn’t know anything about germs. You didn’t even have to go to school to be a doctor. You just hung around and worked for a doctor (who by the way, didn’t go to school either!) After a couple years, poof! You were a doctor!
  
  There was a medical school at Harvard University. But, these folks didn’t even get a microscope until after the Civil War ended. So, nobody had any idea about those squirmy little bacteria guys swimming around causing infections.
  
  Result? Everybody got infections! Matter of fact, twice as many soldiers died from infection and disease as died in battle. They didn’t even know that pus was a bad thing! They thought it was the damaged tissue around the wound leaving the body so new tissue could grow! Duh! So, all these guys were dying from infection and blood poisoning. Their flesh was rotting and the doctors thought this was a good thing!
  
  It gets even better! Doctors never washed their hands. Seems water was often scarce. They didn’t bother to wash the knives or saws either. And, if they happened to drop the saw they were using, they would just wipe the dirt off on the pants and start hacking on the next guy! Yea, they used the SAME saw on absolutely every guy!
  
  It wasn’t any better if you had a stomach or chest wound. The doctor would just stick his finger in the hole and poke around for the bullet. If you had a chest wound that broke a rib bone, the doctor would cut open your chest. Then, he would pick-out the pieces of bone. Take a file, like what the blacksmith used on horseshoes, and file down the sharp edges of the rib. Of course, the filing made small bones pieces. But the doctor just left those in the guy’s chest and bandaged him up.
  
  Basically, not many soldiers walked out of a hospital. Mostly, their dead, lifeless bodies were carried out! But, even if they survived the infections, not many could walk. Seems the surgeons were pretty knife happy! Only, they didn’t use a knife but a saw-or axe.
  
  Would I say there were many amputations? Most every soldier who came across a surgeon’s table lost an arm or leg. The bullets were round pieces of lead about the size of a marble. When they hit a bone, the bone would split and shatter. Seems it was easier and quicker to chop off a bone than try to repair it. Time was a pretty major factor. A battle like Gettysburg with 34,000 wounded… might have a dozen or so doctors. That would mean 2500 wounded per doctor. It was said that a surgeon could cut-off a leg or arm in less than a minute. Oh, yea… no putting you to sleep first. Just slapped you up on the table. A couple big guys held you down. And, the doctor sawed-off your leg. Tossed it onto a pile of other soldiers’ arms and legs. Yelled “next!” And whacked-off another guy’s leg!
  
  With all this in mind…those ghosts down in the basement might be REALLY mad!! After nearly 150 years, I bet they have worked-up a real attitude! Are you sure these are the guys we need to be helping?
  
  Marta

       Cori laughed as she read the last line of Marta’s email. She was right.

       The ghosts in the basement have had plenty to be mad about for a real long time! But, that just meant they needed help more than maybe any others floating about Gettysburg.

• Email
• From Cori
• To Marta
  
  >With all this in mind…those ghosts down in the basement might be REALLY >mad!! After nearly 150 years, I bet they have worked-up a real attitude! Are >you sure these are the guys we need to be helping?
  
  Yea. Pretty sure these are the ghosts! J I think they really need us. There’s so many of them. Whatever is keeping them there-it must be really terrible. But, I don’t think it’s anger that’s holding them here. And, I don’t think it was because they died without warning. From what you said, they had plenty of warning! Seems like nearly everyone who went to a hospital knew he wouldn’t get out alive! That only leaves two possibilities. They either want justice for some wrong done to them. Or, their spirits are held here by guilt.
  
  We have to find out which it is. We need to make another trip to the basement. Tomorrow night. Meet at the same time… Cori

       Marta listened as Cori hooked-up the equipment. Earpiece. Mic. Baseball cap. Camera. Connection to the computer in the backpack.

       “Ok, there you are,” Marta said as the images began coming across her computer. “Ah, different shoes.”

       “Very funny,” Cori snickered. “Here we go.”

       “Wait, before we go,” Marta objected. “Do you have a back-up camera?”

       “Sure, why?” Cori asked.

       “I want you to wear it, too,” Marta explained. “But, have it pointing behind you. That way, I can watch your back. That’s what sidekicks do, you know. Watch their partner’s back.”

       “Ok,” smiled Cori at Marta’s extra care and worry. “Might be a good idea. Let me get it connected to my computer. Do you have a second screen?”

       “Yea, have my laptop ready to download the images from the back camera,” Marta explained. “Ok, there-- you’re up. I can see behind you down the hallway. Wow, that place is kinda dirty! Don’t they have janitors there?”

       “I really haven’t had time to check-out the janitors,” Cori laughed. “Ok, we’re ready now,” she nodded, both cameras sending bouncing images to Marta’s computers. “Down we go.”

       The elevator trip was a bit different than the night before. This time Marta could see the lights counting down the floors-as well as the back of the elevator. Soon, the light hit B. As the doors opened, Cori quickly stepped out.

       “Hey, wait a minute!” Marta’s voice whispered in Cori’s ear.

       “What?” Cori asked. “What is it?”

       “Push the button and lock open the doors on the elevator,” Marti directed. “Just in case.”

       Marta watched as Cori’s finger punched the LOCK button on the elevator’s control panel.

       “Are we ready now?” asked Cori.

       “Just waiting on you,” teased Marta.

       Cori shook her head back and forth at her friend’s cautions. Marta got dizzy watching the images zig-zag across her computer screens.

       “Hey, don’t do that!” Marta called. “That’s worse than a rollercoaster ride.”

       “Whoa, sorry,” Cori said, holding her head very still. “I’ll try to do better. Hey, get a look at this.”

       Cori had taken several steps further into the basement. The camera was sending images of ghosts. Ghosts on beds. Ghosts leaning against walls. Ghosts helping the surgeon by holding wounded soldiers for amputations. The ghost of the doctor sawing… back and forth… until the leg of a soldier dropped to the floor.

       Just then, Marta’s eyes glanced over at the second screen that had the view of what was behind Cori.

       “Cori!” screamed Marta into Cori’s ear. “Behind you! Look out!”

To see what Marta saw coming up behind Cori, click here:

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