“Seventeen. I was here the same as you, when I was your age. You’re all fifteen, right?”
Nothing, so everyone must be nodding. A chair was pushed back, and someone moved away from the table.
“Thank you, Mrs. Goring. That was perfect.”
It was Marisa, finished with her breakfast.
“Sure it was,” Mrs. Goring replied sourly.
“So here’s the deal,” Davis went on. He’d gained their confidence, and mine, too. “Rainsford told me Ben was cured, and I’m here to tell you I’ve been cured, too. Later today, when the sun warms things up a bit, I’ll be diving in the pond searching for a busted pipe. I want you all to hear me now. This program works when nothing else does. I’ll be around this week. If you have questions, don’t hesitate to ask. I owe my life to this place, so it’s the least I can do.”
“I’m going as soon as he’ll let me,” Kate said. “I might want to talk about it.”
Yeah, I bet you would, I thought.
I’d let myself get all comfortable behind the door, not paying nearly enough attention; and all at once someone was standing where I could see them through the crack in the door. The person was against the black curtain, pulling it open.
“What did I tell you about touching things you don’t need to be touching?” Mrs. Goring shouted. I looked down the side of the wall, and there was Marisa, staring back at me. As the curtain came open, she tossed a note through the crack in the door.
“Sorry, Mrs. Goring,” she said, walking toward her. “It’s just so nice to have some light in here.”
“That’s it; breakfast is over. Pile everything on the cart,” Mrs. Goring said.
“Way to go, Marisa,” Connor joked. I got the feeling he and the other boys were grabbing pancakes, stuffing them in their mouths, until Davis’s voice filled the room again.
“There’s one other thing,” he said, almost shyly, I thought. “One of you is missing. Rainsford would like me to find him. I know the woods pretty well.”
“Will Besting,” Marisa said, her voice betraying at least a little worry.
“Yeah, Will Besting,” said Davis. “If any of you hears anything, I’d appreciate it if you’d tell me. There’s nothing to worry about, no bears or wild animals around here. But he needs help, and this place can help him. I think if I could talk to him, he might come in on his own.”
Great. That’s all I needed. Some seventeen-year-old pretty boy trying to track me down.
I started for the bomb shelter, clutching Marisa’s note in my hand, hoping Davis wouldn’t search Mrs. Goring’s basement anytime soon.
I’ll visit Dr. Stevens when everyone is asleep. That’s how you’ll know. Come see me then, okay? Marisa.
The last time I’d gotten a note like Marisa’s was in the fourth grade. I even remember what it said.
Meet me downstairs by the water fountain after school. I have something for you. Jennifer
Jennifer never showed up, but Marisa would. She didn’t have anyplace else to go, and she’d be awake. I wasn’t a night owl like she was, and I definitely didn’t have insomnia. I slept just fine, and as often as possible. But my biggest worry wasn’t that I’d fall asleep; I was more concerned that the system would fail again. I’d miss her signal when the time came and stand her up, like Jennifer had stood me up at the water fountain.
Looks like someone’s got a date. Keith’s voice rattled in my head, and I imagined him leaning against the doorjamb in my room wearing that goofy green baseball cap. Don’t blow it.
Don’t worry, Keith, I won’t, I thought. But I was nervous just the same, and reminded myself to read some of The Pearl so Marisa and I would have something to talk about. I turned off the monitor in case it was on a timer and only stayed on for so many hours a day. If that was true, how was I going to keep an eye on the room where Marisa would give me the signal? The whole situation was starting to stress me out big-time, so I reclined on the cot and started reading. I’d heard The Pearl on tape a long time ago, in my parent’s car, I think, but I couldn’t really remember it.
An hour later I’d turned the monitor back on and saw that the main room at Fort Eden was empty.
“Weird,” I said. “Where is everyone?”
I looked at my watch—nearly 11:00 AM—then back at the monitor, cycling through the three rooms I had access to. The whole place felt deserted, until Mrs. Goring came into view. She was on the farthest end of the main room, walking into the girls’ quarters.
“What’s she doing in there?” I wondered. The door to the girls’ quarters closed, and she was gone. For a few seconds I thought nothing of it. She was in there changing the sheets or something. What else would she be doing in there? But then I had a hunch, a sort of cold feeling up the back of my neck, and I clicked the white G button, bringing up the room where the girls went to talk to Dr. Stevens.
The chair sat empty. The stencils of 2, 5, and 7 still there on the wall. I wasn’t prepared for Mrs. Goring to sit down, and even less prepared because of the way she did it: fast and close. She sat right up next to the monitor screen, creating a fish-eye effect in the lens. It was as if she didn’t understand how it worked, staring grotesquely into the monitor, her eyes darting back and forth, a fist of knuckles banging on the screen. And she was yelling. If I had to guess, I would have said she was yelling for Dr. Stevens to come out, as if Dr. Stevens lived in the monitor itself and needed to be woken up.
How old was Mrs. Goring, that she couldn’t grasp such things? Seventy-five? Eighty-five? Older still? Maybe she’d just lived in the woods too long, losing touch with reality.
Mrs. Goring settled back and began talking in short bursts. I’d have gladly given up my air hockey table and my Atari and my little brother, Keith, in exchange for audio. What was she saying, and why was she saying it? What possible reason could there be for Mrs. Goring to talk with Dr. Stevens?
I cycled back to the main room in Fort Eden, which remained empty. Everyone was gone, and it was starting to really bother me. Were they in the basement of the fort, having a round of shock therapy? I’m not sure what caused me to think what I thought next. It could have been that I was sick and tired of the oppressive silence of the basement. Or maybe I’d come to feel so alone and afraid that something deep inside finally snapped. Could have been that I wanted to see Marisa, even if I couldn’t talk to her. All I remember is that I had a thought that led me out the door of the bomb shelter.
If I could get into this basement once, I could do it again.
One last look at Mrs. Goring sitting in the room.
She’s there. I can make it.
I turned off the monitor and put on my backpack, and before I knew it I was up the long ramp to Fort Eden and standing in the main room. Still empty, but I could hear Mrs. Goring moving in the girls’ quarters, where the door stood slightly ajar Her hand would be on the door before I could get out. What would she do if she saw me standing there? She’d think I was crazy. Did she carry a pistol tucked in her jeans? The thoughts that crossed my mind of a bloody mess in Fort Eden had the effect of freezing me in place; and before I could get myself moving again, Mrs. Goring was pulling the door all the way open, about to walk back into the main room.
My only chance was the stairway leading down, the one on which Rainsford had appeared. A metal railing went around three sides, but I was on the open end—a small piece of good luck. I bolted, hit the first stair with my heel, and immediately had second thoughts. The stairs were narrow and stunningly steep; but worse than that, a thick smear of darkness obliterated all light after a few feet. I lost my footing and slid down four or five steps, my backpack bouncing as I searched for a railing. The way was turning rapidly—a spiral stone staircase—and, catching my foot on a step, I came to a bone-rattling halt.
I lay faceup, staring into the murky light of Fort Eden. I looked down, and the descent felt alive and menacing, like the open mouth of a beast with teeth of bared stone.
What is this place?
>
One thing was clear: the basement to Fort Eden was deep in the ground. How deep, I had no idea. Hidden where I was, it wasn’t hard to imagine how the winding stairs, steep and crumbling with age, might go on forever.
Mrs. Goring’s boots banged on the floor until she got to the opening below which I was hidden, and then she stopped.
“Stupid kids can’t keep their hands off anything. No more syrup.”
She was mopping the metal railing around the opening with a wet rag. From where I lay, it looked as if she was seeing right through me, the silhouette of her bulbous head outlined against the light. A few seconds passed, then she was moving off again, forward toward the library.
It wasn’t until I tried to get up that I realized why Mrs. Goring hadn’t taken notice of a kid on the stairs. I’d thought I’d fallen four or five steps, but this thing was almost as steep as a ladder. I’d fallen ten steps or more, deep into the gloom, and I hadn’t seen any sign of the bottom.
I have to tell Marisa. I have to tell them all.
Just as quickly as I had this thought, I had another.
How could they not know about this ghastly stairway?
It was impossible to imagine Connor Bloom not goading the rest of the guys into trying to climb down. He was the captain of the football team, so it would be his job to push everyone to the limit. He’d have dared Ben and Alex to go deeper and deeper. They knew, and yet they stayed. On top of that, it was stupidly dangerous. What if someone fell into the hole? What then? Something didn’t add up.
I took out my penlight and clicked it on, pointing its meager beam farther down the stairs. A secret part of me had wanted to go deeper, to see how far it went and what was down there. But that feeling passed in an instant as the darkness devoured my little light. A chill enveloped me. Was there no end to the depth of Fort Eden?
I climbed up the stairs just far enough to peer into the room. Mrs. Goring was in the library, where I could hear her mumbling and moving books. Now’s my chance, I thought, and climbed the rest of the way out, standing at the edge of the opening. The weight of my pack was pulling me off balance, as if it was part of a plot that involved me tumbling down an endless, winding staircase. I felt as if I was suffocating. I needed air, real air, not the dank stuff of a bomb shelter.
Crossing the room, I opened the main door as quietly as I could. Seeing no one, I ran through the clearing and into the trees. The rain had stopped and the sun was up, a warm day rapidly blooming. I knew it would turn bitter cold by nightfall, but for now I was free of Fort Eden and Mrs. Goring’s basement, filling my lungs with mountain air.
It was a short walk to the pond, not more than five minutes, where I heard voices bouncing off the water. Connor, Ben, and Alex were horsing around at the water’s edge, but no one had taken the plunge. The girls sat together on a dock, their feet dangling in the frigid pond. There were long limbs from mossy trees scattered over the pond, which wasn’t very big. I was sure I could throw a rock from one side to the other if I tried.
“He can stay down there a hell of a long time,” Connor said to the girls. They all chose to ignore him. They were looking off to the left; and from my position in the trees, I could see that they were staring at a small shed that sat on stilts over the water’s edge.
A body burst out of the pond, grabbing hold of one of the beams supporting the small structure, gasping for air. In his other hand he held a pipe wrench.
“Seventy-four seconds,” Avery said, looking at her watch, then at Marisa.
“Not bad!” Kate yelled across the pond.
It was Davis who had been underwater, but now he’d climbed onto the small landing in front of the shed. I guessed it was the pump house.
Davis was everything I wasn’t, and I was glad Kate and Avery were fighting for his attention. It left less room for Marisa, and I didn’t stand a chance against this guy. He was tall with dark hair, and muscular in a way I could only dream of. A straight, gladiator nose sat flawlessly beneath dark eyes. He flashed a smile at the girls, then ducked into the pump house and started banging the pipe wrench against something I couldn’t see.
“This guy’s a real player,” I whispered to myself, pushing branches away from my face so I could see more of the pond.
Avery surprised everyone by diving off the dock into the frosty water. She stayed under until she, too, reached the pump house and emerged breathless, reaching up her hand until Davis pulled her free of the water. The two of them laughed, Kate stewed, Marisa peered into the forest. Connor pushed Ben into the water, and it was game on for the guys, which I was very happy not to participate in. Still, the whole thing was like a scene from summer camp. Hanging by the water, flirting, horsing around, laughing. I felt alone as I so often did, the trees pressing in against me as if they were my only friends in the world.
After a time Kate called to Davis.
“I’m ready now. I need to talk to you first though.”
I thought of how stupid I’d been. What made me think these cures would only occur at night? What if one of the monitors in the bomb shelter turned on and I missed it?
Davis had on one of those diver watches, and, after looking at it, he stood. He said something to Avery I couldn’t hear and she blushed, then he dove back into the pond, resurfacing at the dock twenty or so seconds later.
“I need to be back in the city by three,” he said, wiping a wet hand down his face. “With the path and the bad road, it’s a couple hours.”
“I thought you were staying with us,” Kate complained. It was after noon, which meant Davis would only be around another hour. I got the feeling he hadn’t tried searching for me as he’d said he would. He seemed more interested in Avery and in fixing whatever was wrong with the pump.
“No can do. But I’ll be back tomorrow morning; you can count on it. I’m on the case until the pump is fixed and Will Besting is found.”
Good luck. Ain’t gonna happen.
He climbed out of the water and took a towel from a stack on the dock, then his feet were in a pair of flip-flops and he was walking with Kate. They were coming toward me and I got nervous, ducking farther into the brush and the trees. It was because of this that I only heard bits and pieces of their conversation as they walked past. Something about a job he had in Los Angeles, working in food services for a film crew that made straight-to-video horror flicks. A lot of night shooting and the zombies got hungry, or something like that, followed by laughter. I stayed behind them as they made their way on the path back to the fort. I went deeper in the woods to their left. Their voices grew quieter. When they reached Fort Eden, they sat on the steps and spoke so quietly that I couldn’t hear what they were saying. I moved off into the trees, and snapped a twig, which Kate didn’t seem to notice but Davis did. He got up, stared in my general direction, and spoke.
“Will, if you’re out there, you should come in. We all want you here. And you know it’s going to get cold again tonight.”
I didn’t move a muscle, didn’t even breathe. If Davis came into the woods, he’d surely find me in no time flat.
“Come on, Will. It’s okay.”
Kate pulled on the towel around Davis’s neck, and he sat again. I thought I heard her say something about me being able to take care of myself, but I couldn’t be sure. Everyone else came bounding up the path, the outdoors having put them all in a good mood. A few minutes of small talk at the entryway, then the door opened and Mrs. Goring’s voice filled the clearing.
“Lunch. Now.”
She disappeared inside, and everyone followed. Davis was the last to go in; but before he did, he turned and stared into the trees.
He knew I was there. I could tell. Tomorrow he would come looking for me, but it would be too late. I’d already be gone.
The door to Mrs. Goring’s bunker wasn’t locked, which I’d both hoped for and sort of expected. I never saw her carrying any keys around or locking any doors. It was the middle of nowhere, and it seemed to me that security was pretty
well covered by the looming fact of her awfulness. No one, and I mean no one, wanted to be on Mrs. Goring’s bad side. I could think of little else that would upset her more than someone breaking into her house.
Davis didn’t stay in the fort for more than ten minutes before he was back out again. I’d only just gotten up the courage to run across the clearing, open Mrs. Goring’s door, and slip inside. I caught sight of him coming out as I was going in and wondered if he’d guessed where I was.
I made my way downstairs, finding the door to the basement open as well, alert for Mrs. Goring’s return from delivering lunch. Davis was in the woods, either searching for me or heading up the path for home, so at least I was safe for the moment.
Pulling the bomb shelter door nearly closed, I settled in and switched the monitor back on. They were at the table, eating and talking, the energy in the room pretty high. I tried to catch a glimpse of Ben Dugan’s T-shirt but couldn’t. A badge of honor, I supposed, some kind of camp T-shirt you got if you let them scare you half to death.
Soon enough Mrs. Goring was back, the door into the basement pulled shut, and I was sealed in once more. I lay on the cot, so tired, and my young brother haunted my half-wakeful dreams.
That Davis dude is trouble. He can have whatever girl he wants. Better get with it.
What do you know? You’re like ten.
I’m thirteen, Will. And I’ve had a lot more dates than you. Trust me.
Shut up, Keith. You’re an idiot.
Maybe I’ll give Marisa a try. She’s not half bad, especially that T-shirt. What a come on.
I’m going to hit you now.
I dare you.
The dream dissolved into madness, my fist hitting Keith’s face and the two of us tumbling down a flight of winding stairs into darkness, our limbs hopelessly entangled. When we hit the bottom, Keith was gone; but Dr. Stevens was there, standing in the blue room, holding the helmet.
Sit down. I have something for you.