Inside Moves

by Sheila Paulson

"Peter?" Ray's voice faltered out of the darkness, shaky and uncertain but stubborn, too, as if he refused to give up. "Come on, Peter, answer me."

Somewhere off to Egon's left Winston muttered, "Aw, man, let it go. He's not gonna answer. He'd have answered by now." Egon could hear him bracing himself to lie for Ray. "Maybe he got away."

Egon's hand tightened around the support before him. Never mind that it was slimy and pulsated with life and that every so often it twitched as if Nexa found Egon's grip an irritant. Better that than loosing his hold and being sucked down into the creature's gut where its digestive juices would kill them in seconds. Deep inside, Egon knew that was what had happened to Peter.

It had all started so harmlessly with a few strange creatures in the sewer, creatures Ray had named unhesitatingly as undines or water elementals. Following them out into the East River led the Ghostbusters to an encounter with Nexa, a four-armed, primordial behemoth who had easily upset their small boat and set them adrift in the water. Professing no love for humankind or the changes which had come about in the world while it drowsed in the deeps, it had sunk lower into the water, opened its vast mouth, and pulled them in.

The next thing Egon knew, he was backed up against something wet and yielding and Ray's desperate voice was echoing over and over. "Peter... Egon... Winston... Somebody answer me. Guys..."

"Ray!"

"Egon? You're all right?" Ray's voice brightened. Leave it to him to find fascination in such a serious crisis. "This is really weird. I don't think we're really swallowed. We're shunted off to some side pocket. The blowhole must be up there above us, but my belt flashlight won't work. Are Peter and Winston with you?" he concluded hopefully.

"I'm fine, Ray," Egon assured his friend. He must have been only momentarily dazed. "But I can't see anything. Peter! Winston! Respond, please."

"Who turned out the lights," groaned Winston behind him. "What happened? I'm not gonna like the answer, am I?"

"Nexa swallowed us," explained Ray quickly. "Are you okay, Winston? Is Peter with you?"

"No, I'm not okay," Winston retorted sourly. "How could anybody be okay in here? This is the craziest thing that ever happened to me. Just call me Jonah. I'm not hurt though. Hasn't anybody got a light? Pete might be here somewhere, hurt."

"Wait a minute." Egon dug in a pocket and produced a small flash on his key chain. When he pushed the button, he was rewarded with a faint beam of light that revealed Ray's face, a circle of white in the dark cavity, his eyes huge with fascination and shock. The three men were standing on a bed of a hard tissue like cartilage only more yielding, and as they moved closer together, it gave a little beneath their feet. Though Egon ran the small beam over everything within its range, Peter was nowhere in sight.

Suddenly the 'floor' bunched beneath them. Fierce suction tore at the three men, knocking them off their feet and dragging them toward a narrow, dark tunnel at the far end of the 'chamber'.

"It's swallowing!" Egon shouted in alarm. "Hang on!" He grabbed at a piece of projecting hard tissue and clung to it as the force of Nexa's swallow threatened to tear him from his perch. "Ray! Winston! Don't let go!"

"You can believe I won't," Winston shouted in agreement. "I'm okay," he added reassuringly as the pressure eased. "Man, I hope he doesn't do that too often. I don't want to be dessert."

"Ray?" Egon queried anxiously, activating the light again.

"I'm here." Ray's voice was shaken, and Egon aimed the flashlight in his direction. Ray sat up, rubbing his forehead, but it wasn't the pain of injury that caused him to look so stricken. "Egon," he gasped in shocked realization, "if Peter was unconscious, he wouldn't have been able to hold on."

"He's probably out the blowhole already," said Winston bracingly in the tones of someone offering false hope and praying that nobody called him on it. "You know Pete. I bet he's giving Nexa a piece of his mind right now. Next thing we know, this big mountain of blubber will open his mouth and let us go strolling free."

"Of course, Winston." Egon disagreed with this optimistic vision but he couldn't bring himself to say so. He was certain they would die here. If so, he could face it with more equanimity if he could get Ray to believe that Peter had survived and was even now back on the dock trying unsuccessfully to charm Alice Johnson, the reporter who had come with them as far as the shore, while he planned their rescue.

Ray was the group's optimist, but he wasn't stupid. He looked past Egon into the darkness toward Winston and shook his head. "I don't think he got away." His eyes were full of shadows. "Maybe he was lucky. We're going to suffocate in here, if we don't get swallowed first."

"There's always the blowhole," suggested Winston, determined to find some hope in the situation. "I think we should try to get out that way before we sit down and wait to be digested."

Egon was surprised he hadn't considered it. "Perhaps we should attempt to irritate the beast. It might eject us if we make it too uncomfortable."

"Hey, that's right," Ray agreed. He sounded a lot less eager than usual, but the idea intrigued him. He might be demoralized at the possible loss of Peter but he was still thinking. "I bet that would work. What are you going to try?"

Egon began to search his pockets for a tool. Ray had still possessed his thrower when they'd been sucked in, but it had proven ineffectual against Nexa. It might be time to try simpler measures.

"What's your plan, Egon?" Winston prodded, leaning closer as if he feared Nexa would overhear them.

"Something ordinary." Egon produced a pocket knife and unfolded the sharpest blade. "Hold onto something. This could generate some action." He drove the blade into the soft tissue between the cartilage braces as hard as he could.

At first there was no response. Maybe to a creature as big as Nexa, such a blow was no more annoying than a pinprick. Egon put his entire body weight behind it, driving the blade home as deep as he could and twisting it.

Ray recognized the signs first. "Grab on, guys," he warned. "He's gonna swallow again."

This time, the suction lasted far longer, as Nexa strove to clear the irritant in his throat.

The knife was yanked from Egon's hand and went flying away, and a flood of water washed over them, nearly tearing their hands free of their grip. When it passed, the three of them sprawled gasping for breath, limp and exhausted.

"Well, that wasn't your best idea, man," Winston muttered as he sat up, spitting out salt water, a grimace on his face.

"We couldn't just sit here, Winston. We had to try," corrected Ray. His voice approached along with the squishy sounds of his footsteps. Reaching out he fumbled for a grip on Egon's arm.

"Are you hurt, Raymond?" Egon asked gently, urging the younger man to sit down and sitting beside him.

"No," Ray replied. He added in a flat voice that bore no resemblance to his usual eager tones, "Peter's dead, isn't he, Egon?"

"We don't know that, Ray."

"I know it." He heaved a shaky sigh. "I never expected us to go out like this."

"Nobody could have thought of that." Winston approached and sat on Ray's other side, glancing around in the fading glow from Egon's penlight for a support to grab if Nexa swallowed again. He gripped Ray's shoulder and squeezed. "You okay, homeboy?"

Ray shuddered with realization. "Peter's dead," he repeated. He dropped his head forward against his chest in despair.

Egon and Winston exchanged an unhappy look, and then Egon put his arm around Ray and squeezed his shoulders. He wanted to lie to Ray and reassure him, to tell him Peter had escaped and was even now planning a daring rescue, but it was not in Egon's nature to lie. Besides, his own unhappiness had forced itself into his chest. It took all his strength to comfort Ray when he hurt so badly himself.

There was a sudden movement as Winston's arm dropped around Ray too, his hand reaching out to pat Egon's shoulder. "Aw, man, guys," he breathed, "I though Pete would go on forever. He was crazy and inventive and the best friend a guy could ask for. There was nobody like Peter, not ever." He shuddered, the close proximity allowing the tremor to run through all three men. "Where would we be without him?"

"Inside Nexa," Ray muttered. "Egon, it hurts."

"I know, Ray. It hurts us all." For a long time, the three of them sat quietly in shared sorrow.

Ray spoke in a small voice. "It's not right. We should have gone out together."

Several miserable hours passed while the air they breathed became thicker and staler and their spirits dropped lower and lower. An attempt to use Ray's thrower only prodded another fit of swallowing that nearly sucked them down the dark tube of Nexa's throat. They were forced to abandon the idea. Nexa was too powerful to be affected by the proton streams.

Ray was unnaturally silent most of the time, his arms wrapped around his chest. Occasionally he would call Peter's name, and when there was no response, he would sink into deeper gloom. When Egon or Winston tried to speak to him, he shrugged away and did not reply.

After a few hours of this, Winston finally reached the limit of his resignation. "Hey, guys," came his determinedly optimistic voice out of the darkness. "Maybe we can still get out of here. I know we've gotta try."

Winston's bracing tone didn't fool Egon for a minute; it was merely something to distract them while they waited for death. Egon was certain Winston didn't believe they could escape their living prison, but Ray pounced on the words with a shadowy form of his usual optimism. "You're right, Winston. We can't give up. Peter... Peter wouldn't want us to give up. He'd hate it." He squared his shoulders. "What about the blowhole. Couldn't we climb out that way?"

"If Nexa is submerged, it will be tightly sealed," Egon explained. "If we could find it, we might try to irritate it, forcing Nexa to free us. If we aren't too deep, we could swim to the surface."

Too many 'ifs', Egon, he told himself. Too many unknown variables. Yet the alternative was waiting here to die, and Egon had begun to notice a closeness in the air they breathed. They didn't have unlimited time.

"Where do you think it would be?" Ray asked, peering into the darkness, tilting his head back to stare up over his head. The light beam didn't penetrate up there. "Should we climb?"

"We're gonna try," Winston announced. "But we're gonna stick together. Teamwork, that's what it takes. Come on, guys. I used to be pretty good at climbing when I worked construction with my dad." He pulled first Ray and then Egon to his feet. Egon shone the penlight higher, seeking out projections they might grasp as they worked their way upward. Winston took the lead, grasping a stringy piece of tissue and hauling himself upward.

It didn't work, of course. The minute they started climbing, Nexa became aware of them. Water sluiced through their chamber, knocking them free of the wall and off their feet again, whirling them round and round while they grabbed frantically for hand and footholds, or for anything to brace themselves against. Egon's grasping fingers found someone's belt and he curled his fingers around it tightly. Someone else grabbed his boot. When the pressure eased, they lay sprawled and tumbled, gasping like beached fish. Wherever the water came from, it had not brought much in the way of fresh air with it. Nexa must be submerged.

Since then, Nexa had swallowed five more times, and five more times they'd been forced to grip a piece of tissue or cartilage to keep their grip. Once, Ray had slipped, and Winston's hand had shot out to grasp his ankle. When the suction passed, Ray lay sprawled breathlessly. "Thanks, Winston," he panted, propping himself up on his hands and knees.

"Any time, my man."

When they felt relatively solid 'ground' beneath them again, they gravitated together once more, sitting side by side, shoulders touching. The penlight barely illuminated Egon's hand when he ignited it now, so he left it off. They might need it later.

"Egon?" Ray's voice was faint in the darkness. Egon could hear how he labored to draw in oxygen.

"Yes, Ray?"

"We're going to die, aren't we? If Nexa doesn't swallow us, we're going to suffocate."

Winston drew in his breath sharply. He'd known that all along, but hearing it voiced had still shocked him. Egon sighed.

"Yes, Ray," he conceded.

"Maybe we should just let go next time," the auburn haired man suggested despairingly. "I can't take much more of this." He leaned against Egon's shoulder, his voice completely dispirited. The loss of Peter had shaken him even more deeply than Egon had imagined. The props that supported Ray's life had been washed away and he was floundering.

It was Winston who found an answer when the right words wouldn't come to Egon. "No way, Ray," he burst out. I don't know about you, but I don't owe Nexa anything, not even an easy death. Blubberguts isn't getting me one minute early. I'm going out kicking and screaming and fighting for even one second of life. The longer we hold out, the better. As long as we can fight, then we fight. If this mother...if it killed Peter, then I'm gonna do as much damage as I can. Egon, do you think these packs can still be set on overload? We could take him out with us."

Egon brightened, annoyed at himself for failing to think of this most obvious solution. "It might be our only chance," he agreed. "If we go down, that's what we do. We set them on simultaneous overload. We might get out, but if not, we'll have an option, a chance to stop Nexa. What do you say, guys? Agreed?"

Ray bobbed his head up and down, and Winston added firmly, "You got that right." It was unanimous.

Egon switched off the penlight. "We'll save the light until then." They didn't talk much after that. The air was thickening noticeably now, and they had to conserve it as long as possible. None of them could sleep, but they sat quietly beside each other, deriving what little comfort they could from the warmth of each other's bodies. It shouldn't have been cold inside Nexa, but Nexa was cold blooded, and the air was dank and chilly.

"Egon?" Ray murmured out of the heavy darkness.

"Ray?"

"I just wanted you to know," Ray breathed sleepily, the thinning air getting to him, "that you guys and Peter are the best friends I ever had. Working with you has been great."

"There's no need to get mushy, Ray," Egon began, then he shook his head abruptly in self-disgust. Ray wouldn't have said it if he didn't feel a need. "Yes," he admitted. "It's the same for me."

"And me," echoed Winston. "This might be one crazy business, but I never thought we'd end like this, swallowed by the original sea monster. We survived Gozer and Samhaine and the Bogeyman, just so we could get gobbled up. Doesn't seem right."

"Not without Peter," Ray replied unhappily. He raised his voice to call once more. "Peter!"

Egon winced. "Don't, Ray..." he began. It only made them feel worse. Abruptly the cartilage beneath them tilted. "Look out," Winston yelled. "Something's happening."

The new disruption was different from the previous attempts to dislodge them. They had felt Nexa moving several times, drifting in the tide, even rising and lowering in the water, but now the creature was moving faster as if toward an urgent destination. The force of the acceleration nearly upended them. Egon flashed on his failing light once more, trying to see if anything was different. Ray and Winston appeared out of the deeper shadows beside him, their faces puzzled.

"Grab something!" hollered Winston. "This could shake us loose. Hold tight!"

"Think Nexa's attacking New York?" Ray asked, his eyes widening in alarm. The physicist knew he'd been brought up on horror movies in which the monster rampaged through the city, be it New York or Tokyo, while not even the army could defeat it. Egon wondered what chance the three remaining Ghostbusters had with little air remaining and one useless thrower between them. They would have to detonate their proton packs soon. They had no choice.

"If it's going for the city we gotta stop it," Winston cried, rousing in defense of his beloved New York. "Come on, Egon, let's do it. It's time to use that overload switch on our proton packs. I say rig them up and let them blow. I bet even old Nexa couldn't digest that much power."

"That's a great idea, Winston," Ray agreed with a ghost of his old enthusiasm. "We'll stop Nexa for sure. We could blow up everything within a quarter mile if we rigged them right."

"Ray," Egon said gently, squeezing the younger man's shoulders, "you do know that there's no way out for us if we do it?"

Ray nodded vehemently. "I know, Egon. But we're dying of suffocation anyway. Peter's...already dead. I want our deaths to count for something, even if nobody ever knows we did it. Besides," he added softly, "Peter would have liked to go out with a bang."

Winston smiled sadly in agreement. "He's right, big fella," he agreed. "Let's do it. I can just hear Pete now. He'd say he loved the plan. He'd claim to be excited about it. I say we go for it. Want we should take the packs off to rig them?"

"No," Egon replied, looking at his two friends in turn. They had faced death before, but never had it seemed quite as final as it did this time. "That's not necessary. We'll arm each other's packs when the time comes."

"Soon," Ray panted, his breathing labored. "If we wait too long, we'll pass out... and we won't make any difference." He found a weary smile for Egon. "At least we're together."

Nexa's breakneck pace halted so abruptly that all three of them were flung head over heels. The rapid deceleration was followed by thrashing and shaking as if Nexa were stomping people beneath his feet. "Maybe now," Ray began only to fall silent as Nexa stilled. In the distance they heard a deep-throated rumble. Nexa was talking. They couldn't make out individual words, but the vibration ran through the tissue beneath them with each word.

"What's he doing, threatening to take out the city?" Winston roused enough to ask. "Wonder who's talking to him."

"I don't know," replied Ray with a gaping yawn. The air was definitely going. It wouldn't be much longer. "Maybe it's Alice Johnson," he suggested. It as lucky they hadn't brought the reporter from Celebrity Magazine with them in the boat.

"Five minutes," Egon announced in a voice that took a considerable effort to keep level. He tried to draw a deep breath and coughed a couple of times. "We'll give it that long and see if anything changes. Something's going on out there and it might help us. If it doesn't we'll switch on the self-destruct. If we wait too long..." he paused to breathe, "...we'll pass out." He flashed his penlight onto his watch. When he turned it off, the luminous dial shone more brightly, the second hand swooping around, counting down the time to Nexa's destruction--and their own.

"You're gonna be toast, Nexa," growled Winston.

The next few minutes were the longest Egon ever remembered. The harsh rasp of their breathing echoed loudly in the chamber, but each struggle to suck the thinning, stale air into their lungs was less satisfying than the last. There in the heavy darkness, Egon realized that he was going to die and that nothing could change it. Though he felt sleepy and lethargic, he forced himself to struggle up, reaching out for his companions. His hand landed on Ray's shoulder and the younger Ghostbuster jumped and gasped.

"E-egon? I... I was dreaming...that Peter was here."

"We'll see him soon," promised Winston from his position just beyond Ray. His breathing sounded like a bellows, but there was no point in avoiding conversation any longer. All they had to do was stay awake a few more moments, just long enough to trigger their packs.

Egon feared they had left it too late. His fingers felt thick and clumsy and his brain didn't want to function right. When he stared at the luminous dial of his watch, the hands jerked and danced before his blurring eyes. He forced himself to concentrate. Could he hold on for another minute? He glanced at the others. Ray looked like he was unconscious already, slumped sideways against Egon's chest. He wrapped his arm around the younger man and held him protectively, raising his eyes to try to locate Winston in the darkness.

He couldn't wait any longer. "I think we should do it now," he began just as the tissue beneath them contracted in upon itself. "It's swallowing!" hollered Ray, rousing and lunging for something to hold onto. The survival instinct was so strong that even now he fought the death that threatened them.

Water rushed in with all the force of a fire hose, swirling around and over them, tumbling them loose from their grip. It had never struck them so fiercely before. They whirled in ever-tightening circles, bouncing off each other and the walls of their prison. In the fierce turbulence, it would have been impossible to hit the self destruct sequences even if they could get close to each other. Each time one of them passed another he reached for the control switch on the proton pack or tried to grab hold so they could set the self-destruct but they failed. The force of the water was too strong to fight.

Time seemed to stand still as more water poured in. Egon battled it futilely, frustrated, knowing he was going to die before they could carry out their final plan. Nexa might have resisted the streams, but not even he could have survived three proton packs exploding.

Dazed and gasping, his brain blurring, Egon got a mouthful of water and struggled to spit it out, coughing and choking. Somewhere nearby he heard Ray wheezing his name, then the water rose up over his head and he prepared to die. "Janine," he breathed.

With a whoosh, he was lifted, shooting upward as if launched in a rocket, and his dazed, air-starved mind barely registered the possibility of the blowhole. Would Nexa free them after all?

Their passage contracted. Egon felt like a cork popping from a bottle as the force of water shot him free of the beast and into the sky. The foggy night was so much brighter than the inside of Nexa that he squinted. Air, blessed air! He sucked in one vast breath, another, and felt his head begin to clear. As he cartwheeled around, he saw a glittering diamond field revolve past his eyes, the lights of New York. They were close enough to swim ashore.

He could hear the others yelling, even his own voice raised in surprise and outrage. Suddenly he was falling.

He landed painfully on his hands and knees not in the water but in a boat. As the others dropped beside him, it rocked and bobbed wildly, then stabilized. Next to him Winston gasped in great breaths of air and he could hear Ray sputtering as he choked and coughed up water. Egon blinked several times to clear his eyes, then he froze in complete disbelief, his heart rising up into his throat and pounding so hard he thought he would choke. In front of him stood a miracle. A big yellow fisherman's hat shoved back on his head, his thrower slung at a cocky angle against his shoulder, Peter Venkman faced his fellow Ghostbusters. He was alive and well, and from the look of pride and triumph on his face, the others must owe him their survival. Egon felt a smile begin to spread across his face.

As the three who had been imprisoned saw him, Peter grinned and raised his hand in greeting.

"Hey," he said simply. "The least you could do is say hello." There was a stunned silence, then Ray staggered clumsily to his feet, his eyes glowing. "Peter!" he exulted. "You're alive!"

"Of course I'm alive," Peter returned promptly, stowing his thrower and looking at each of them in turn as if to check them for injuries. "You think Nexa baby could have kept me down? No way. I just talked him into taking a hike--er--swim. With a little help from this." He gestured grandly at a square device Egon had never seen before, connected to a modified thrower. Egon was still too shaken to theorize about its function.

"I did great, guys," continued Peter with an extravagant gesture. "I only wish you could have seen it."

Ray took a cautious and delighted step toward his colleague. "You're alive," he repeated, flinging his arms around Peter's neck in a delighted embrace. The hat went flying as Peter grabbed Ray in return. Abruptly Venkman's cocky grin vanished, his determined guard dropped, and he pulled Ray close with all his strength.

"I thought you guys were dead," he admitted as Egon and Winston converged on them and pounded him on the back. "I told Janine you were just swallowed, not eaten, but..." His voice faltered. Egon realized he must have been maintaining his brave front for hours, never quite sure his plan would work, uncertain if his friends had survived long enough for him to bother. Now that they were safe and well, he was suffering from delayed reaction.

"I almost convinced myself you were okay," he continued grimly, "but not quite. When Nexa agreed to give you back..." He reached out a hand to Egon and Winston. "Are you guys okay?" he demanded. "You better be or I'm going after him and turning him into sushi."

"We're fine, Peter," Ray answered firmly, strength flowing into his voice as if he had become the protector rather than the one in need of comfort. "We were sure you'd been swallowed," he concluded shakily. His grip must be impeding Peter's breathing but neither man complained.

"Swallowed? Moi?" Peter strove to lighten up. "He spit me out," he cried in a combination of resentment and relief.

"Thought you tasted bad, eh, Pete?" Winston hugged him tightly. "You scared us, buddy." When he rumpled Peter's hair, Venkman didn't even complain.

"Even you, Egon?" Peter asked, grinning at him. He was already regaining his equilibrium. Peter never permitted his moments of overt vulnerability to last very long. He pulled Egon into the group hug and for a long moment, the four of them stood in a relived embrace. This one had been far too close.

When they broke apart, Peter was almost as thoroughly soaked as the other three. He fetched a few towels from the cabin and passed them around. "You guys are a mess."

"You don't look so good yourself, Pete," Winston replied teasingly.

"I think he looks wonderful," Ray declared, feasting relieved eyes on Peter.

"Is this a proposal?" Peter quipped irrepressibly.

Ray grimaced. "At least you sound normal. I'm not sure how good that is." "Anyway," Peter pressed on loudly, ignoring the implied criticism, "let's get back to shore. I want to find Alice. I had Janine tell her to be here at ten with her camera. I hope she got it all on film. I was great! You should have seen me. Maybe I'll get the Nobel Prize for this." He started to describe his microwave emitter, which made Egon stare at the device and then at Peter. It must have worked, but how could Peter have designed it? He lacked the proper scientific background to work out the schematics. Egon had a great many questions, but he catalogued them in his mind and put them aside to ask later. He didn't want to challenge Peter's triumph yet.

"...so then I told him to bug off and find himself someplace where there were no people--like Antarctica," Peter concluded. "And he bought it. Silver tongued Venkman, that's me." He glanced over his shoulder. "Look. He's moving." He gestured at the sea entity, which, freed from his net, had started slowly toward the open sea, trailed by a retinue of undines.

"You did good, Peter," Ray lauded him.

With a grin Peter draped his arm around Ray's shoulders. "Yes," he admitted. "I know. Am I great or what?"

Winston groaned. "I'd say you've got a great ego, home boy." He stared after Nexa, too.

"Come on," Peter urged, turning to start the engine. "Let's get back to shore. I can't wait to see what Alice thought of me."

"Don't you mean Ms. Johnson?" Ray joshed.

"If she won't let me call her Alice now, I wash my hands of her," Peter announced. "She doesn't deserve me anyway."

"I suspect this whole experience has gone to his head," Egon complained in as pedantic a tone as he could manage. "I was afraid of that. You're right about him, Winston."

Winston grinned. "But you wouldn't have it any other way, would you, buddy?"

Egon returned his smile. "No," he admitted. "I wouldn't."

"Good," called Peter over his shoulder as he steered their toward the pier. "Appreciation. I love it." He turned and winked at his fellow Ghostbusters, his face alight with happiness. "Can we go home now?"


Back to:

Contact the archivists at : tobinsarchive@squidge.org for any problems.