“You don’t seem too hungry,” said Jack’s mom at dinner.
“We ate lunch late,” said Jack. “We’ll probably be starved later.”
“That’s right,” said his mom.
“You boys want to earn some money?” asked Jack’s dad.
“I don’t know, Dad. What would we have to do?” Jack asked.
“I’m doing a big installation up the road,” said his dad. “I thought you guys could wrap pipes.”
“Jeez Dad. We don’t want to have to be inside all day,” protested Jack.
“Hey — no big deal,” said his dad. “I’m sure we can get someone interested in easy money.”
“Don’t forget — you all owe me another two-hundred words tonight,” his mom said.
“Okay, mom,” said Jack.
Upstairs, each had a notepad and pencil.
“What did you put?” Stephen asked.
“I said we trespassed, broke in, and got painted by a boss-trap,” said Jack. “What did you put?”
“I can’t think of anything,” laughed Stephen.
“Just write about a frog or something,” said Ben.
“I know,” said Jack, “write about the puzzles, but say they were in a book or something.”
“We all have to write about the same thing, or we’ll get busted,” said Stephen.
“Nah, I don’t think we’ll get busted,” said Jack. “But, just in case, we should come up with something we were doing.”
“I know,” said Ben. “We’ll just write about that field-guide we were using before. We just need to figure out what pages to say we read, so we’ll all agree.”
“I’ll get it,” said Jack. He walked over to his bookshelf to retrieve the book.
“I can’t stop thinking about that dye,” said Stephen. “Maybe it was a warning.”
“Of what?” asked Jack and Ben in unison.
“Maybe it means that if you go up there, you’ll get covered in blood,” said Stephen.
“Jesus,” said Jack. “I hope not.”
“Could be the next rung, like, triggers a blade or something,” Stephen offered.
“How are we going to test for that?” asked Jack. “I mean, it could be really hard to detect that kind of trap.”
“Exactly,” said Ben.
“We should definitely bring a long stick next time to try to push on things before we go touching them,” said Jack.
“That’s a start,” said Stephen. “Do you have any night-vision goggles or anything?”
“Are you crazy?” answered Jack with questions. “Why would we have those?”
“I don’t know — just asking,” said Stephen. “Our flashlights aren’t helping us much.”
“I can’t wait to see what’s on level two,” said Jack.
“I can,” said Ben, getting up and stretching. “I’ll be back.” Ben went down the hall to the bathroom.
“Hey,” whispered Stephen when Ben was out of earshot, “I found this on the painting.” He handed a small memory card to Jack. “Check it out when Ben’s not around.”
“Why don’t you want Ben to know?” Jack asked.
“He’s already freaking out about the hotel, I think you should look at it before we let him know about it,” Stephen replied. “He’ll probably want to tell your parents or something. He’s really freaking out.”
“Yeah, I guess,” said Jack, putting the card on his desk, next to his keyboard.
July 15, 2007
By Jack Randolph
Today is Sunday, July fifteenth, and my friends and I went into the woods. We were trying to see if we could find some of the plants listed in my field guide that I got for my birthday. I started out looking for the Ostrich fern. In the spring the Ostrich fern can be picked and they are called fiddleheads. My mom picks fiddleheads down near the creek so I thought she would like to know where else they grow. It is very difficult to find Ostrich ferns because they look so much like all the other ferns this time of year. The guide says that you have to cook fiddleheads because otherwise they could make you sick. While we were looking my friend Ben saw an Indigo Bunting so we checked that off the list of birds we have seen this summer. We also tried to find some Lady Slippers but I think it is too late to find those. You should not pick Lady Slippers if you see them because then they won’t come back. I would like to find those next year because I read that they can be found in the same spots as the fiddleheads.
After Ben and Stephen had gone to the guest room, Jack powered on his computer and inserted the memory card. He made sure his machine was not set to automatically execute anything it would find on the card and then began to explore its contents. It appeared to be empty.
Jack poked around on the device, but couldn’t find any files. Unconvinced, he used some of his recovery tools to see if there were any hidden or deleted files on the card. He was startled by a light tapping on his door. Stephen let himself in.
“Hey,” whispered Stephen.
“Ben’s asleep?” asked Jack.
“Yeah — find anything?”
“I think so,” said Jack, “check it out. There’s a couple of spots with data.”
“What kind of files?” asked Stephen.
“Not files,” answered Jack. “Just data.”
“What do you mean?” Stephen asked.
Jack was accustomed to having to explain computer stuff to his friends and parents. He had an innate understanding of how things worked — it was like a puzzle to him. When he saw something interesting, his brain would keep working at it until he figured out how he would accomplish that same behavior. When he had devised a methodology, he discovered that he could predict behavior and verify his assumptions.
“Think of it like a bookshelf. All the books are really there, but someone has removed all the covers from the books,” explained Jack. “So, if we pull down pages, we can look at what they contained, but they’re not exactly books anymore. And, some might have been partially replaced by other books, so what we find might not make sense anymore.”
“So can you see anything that does make sense there?” asked Stephen.
“Let me look,” said Jack.
After a few minutes, Jack had found something he could recover. “This one looks intact, and I think it’s a PDF file.” Jack extracted the file to his computer and opened the file. His PDF reader launched and they saw a window filled with white pages and black lines.
“Looks like building plans,” said Jack.
“Hey,” said Stephen, “scroll down.” Stephen pointed to the label on the bottom of the page. It read “Level Zero.”
“So, if this is the hotel, then this must be the drawing room,” said Jack. He pointed to a small rectangle on the left side of the drawing. The line describing the right-hand wall had a small star affixed to it. “See, if this is the drawing, then the star shows where the card was.”
“Yeah, that seem about right,” said Stephen. “What’s the next page? Is it level one?”
Jack advanced to the next page of the document, but he and Stephen saw nothing but white. “There’s nothing there,” said Jack.
“Good job, captain obvious,” said Stephen.
“Hold on,” said Jack. He highlighted the page and the background of the area turned a light-blue color. Superimposed on the highlight, white lines showed them the next floor of the building and the words “Level One” at the bottom.
“Ah,” said Stephen, “white lines — tricky.”
“There’s the bishop’s room,” said Jack. “And the tripwire hallway.”
“Holy shit,” said Stephen. “Look at that.” He pointed on the diagram to where the hallway took the short right-hand jog. “That’s where the level two ladder is.”
Above Stephen’s finger the drawing was adorned with a skull and crossbones.
“That can’t be good,” said Jack.
They studied the drawing. The only rooms shown on the floor plan were the ones they had seen. It depicted the bishop’s room, the tripwire hall, the ladder, and the white room, but the rest of the floor was blank.
“Looks like a closet or something in the corner of the white room,” said Jack. He pointed to the lower left-hand corner of the depiction of the well-lit room. “Do you remember seeing anything there?”
“Naw, but I was trying to not get my hand chopped off by that switch thing,” replied Stephen. “I probably wouldn’t have noticed. What’s on the next page?”
“That’s it,” said Jack. “Just the two pages.”
“Any more data on that thing?” Stephen asked.
“Not that I can recover. I don’t think,” said Jack.
The boys set off the next morning into the cool woods. Their backpacks felt heavier with the extra supplies — more clothes, a broken broom handle, chalk, duck tape, a box-cutter, fishing line, and a small mirror. Single-minded, they hiked through the woods silently and quickly. All three stopped and looked up at the sound of distant voices. Jack pivoted and looked back at Ben and Stephen. The voices sounded like they were moving their direction.
Stephen pointed to their right and the boys scurried off the path into a dense cluster of pines. A little rock wall offered them shelter — they crouched behind and watched the path. The people approaching were loud, but the boys couldn’t make out what they were saying.
Finally, the owners of the voices came into view — Smoker and Bag Man. Hunched and tense, the boys watched the two young men pass down the path.
“Did you hear what they were saying?” asked Jack.
Ben replied — “All I could get was ‘They have to live down here. It’s the only neighborhood.’ or something.”
“Do you think they were talking about us?” asked Jack. “Didn’t the sheriff say those guys thought we ratted them out?”
“Yup,” said Ben.
“They could have been talking about anything,” said Stephen.
“Well, still best to keep out of sight,” said Jack.
“No shit,” said Stephen.
“I guess we can find our way through the woods,” said Jack. “It’s not that far from here.”
Jack took the lead and made his way carefully through the crowded pine branches. When they found their way into taller hardwoods, the going was easier, but they had to pick their way through several marshy areas by jumping from frost heave to frost heave.
“This sucks,” said Ben. “Can’t we go back out to the path.”
“I think we’re almost there,” said Jack.
Minutes later, Jack’s prediction came true. A bright spot up ahead marked where the woods gave way to clearing. Pushing through the last of the underbrush, they saw the hotel from a new angle.
“We have to go back to walking up the gully again,” said Jack. He pointed at a worn down path in the grass. They had resorted to this shortcut when they started carrying the stepladder.
“How many times have we been here?” asked Ben. “When did we find this place — last week?”
“Um, today’s Monday and we first found the hotel last Monday,” said Jack. “So about a week. But we haven’t been here every day.”
“And we didn’t get inside until like Thursday or something,” said Stephen.
“So do you think that stomped-down path is just from us over the past week?” asked Ben.
“Sure,” said Jack, “I think so.”
“Yeah, why not?” asked Stephen.
“I don’t know,” said Ben. “Seems like we wouldn’t have made that whole path in just a week. Besides, we went up the gully the first couple of times.”
“Let’s put up something on the path to see if someone goes through there,” Jack offered.
“What, like a camera?” asked Ben.
“I was thinking just a piece of fishing line across the path or something,” replied Jack.
“Oh — yeah, that’s easy,” said Ben.
They circled the clearing and retrieved the ladders from the hiding place. Stephen and Ben carried them up the gully while Jack went up their old path to set the fishing line. He pushed two small sticks into the ground on either side of the trail and then strung the line. He made sure that it was easily dislodged and hoped it wouldn’t be noticeable. When he arrived at the hotel, Stephen and Ben had already climbed onto the porch roof. Jack joined them and they hauled the step ladder up to reach the hatch.
“Did we leave the panel like this?” asked Stephen. The panel that hid the switch was not quite settled, and a little askew.
“Who knows — I was covered in red dye,” said Jack. “I think we might be getting a little paranoid.”
“We have to stay careful,” said Ben. “We can’t get sloppy.”
With that admonishment, they repeated the steps required to make it back to where Jack had been drenched in red dye. Through the hatch, down the rope-ladder, through the drawing room, up the shocking ladder, through the bishop’s room, and past the tripwire hallway — the boys moved with confidence. A blotchy trail of dried dye on the floor marked their hurried exit. They weren’t surprised to find that the ladder had receded up into the ceiling, but disappointed they didn’t know exactly how to get back in the white room.
“You just made us turn off our lights and then the door opened,” said Ben.
They had been sitting in the dark for over five minutes, and wall remained closed — no doorway had appeared.
“Did we do something else, and not realize it?” asked Stephen.
“I think we were standing more over here,” said Jack. He turned on his light and pointed over towards the dead-end of the hall.
“That could be it,” said Stephen. He and Ben joined Jack, and Jack extinguished his light again.
“Maybe someone let us in last time,” said Ben.
“What do you mean?” asked Jack.
“I’m just saying — someone may be listening to us talk and then they opened the door,” Ben replied.
“That’s creepy,” said Stephen. “I don’t think there’s anyone here.”
“You hope there’s not,” said Ben.
At that moment, they heard the garage-door sound and the crack of light appeared before them.
“See?” said Ben.
“Coincidence,” said Jack. “We just don’t know what we’re doing to trigger it.”
“Or maybe it just happens every ten minutes or something,” said Stephen.
“Whatever,” said Ben.
Through the door first, Jack walked over to the corner that he and Stephen had seen on the drawing. He stood close to the wall and looked at it from several angles.
“What’s over there?” asked Ben.
“I thought I saw something,” replied Jack.
“I’m going to hit this button,” said Stephen. He reached with stretched fingers and pressed on the center of the palm-shaped button again. The plastic scissored closed, encircling his fingers again.
“Who’s got the box-cutter?” asked Jack. He was tapping with his fingertips on the wall near the corner. The wall sounded hollow.
“Right here,” said Stephen, pointing over his shoulder to his backpack.
“I think there’s something behind this wall,” said Jack. “Or not something — see the studs stop here.” He pointed to a spot a few feet from the corner.
“Shouldn’t we be trying to figure out that ladder?” asked Ben.
“I think the ladder’s a trap,” said Jack.
“What?” Ben asked, surprised. “Why do you think that?”
“I don’t know — just a feeling I guess,” said Jack.
“We saw plans,” interjected Stephen.
“What plans?” asked Ben.
“On the computer — when you were asleep last night,” replied Stephen.
They explained the memory card and its contents.
Ben was confused and angry: “I can’t believe you guys didn’t tell me.”
“We’re telling you now,” Jack said. “And I’m sorry.”
“Screw you guys — I’m leaving,” said Ben.
“Oh man,” said Stephen, “don’t do that. It’s my fault. I told Jack that you were too scared and you would be freaked out.”
“What the hell?” asked Ben. “I’ve been here the whole fucking time. I’m not scared of shit, but you guys are being totally stupid.”
“But this makes it safer,” said Jack. He crossed over to where Ben stood. Stephen still had his hand on the button. “We know not to use that ladder now, and we can find the real way to level two.”
“What did the plans say?” asked Ben.
Stephen and Jack looked at each other, but neither spoke.
“Seriously — what was on there? Why don’t you want to use the ladder?” asked Ben.
“It was a skull and crossbones at that ladder,” said Jack. “But there’s another ladder back here.”
“Oh great,” said Ben. “So now we know that there’s a deathtrap here and you still want to go to fucking level two?”
“But we know about it,” said Jack. “We’ll be okay.”
“But why?” pleaded Ben. “What do you expect to find, and why is it worth risking your neck?”
“I don’t know,” said Jack. “It’s cool.”
“Yeah,” added Stephen, “and it’s got to be something good.”
“You guys go up to level two,” said Ben. “I’m staying here.”
“Shit,” said Jack. “Don’t do that.”
“Right here,” said Ben. He lowered himself to the floor and leaned back against the wall. “Give me a walkie-talkie and I’ll stay right here.”
“C’mon,” Stephen said to Jack. “Let’s get through that wall.” He pointed to the corner and pulled off his backpack. He rummaged around and pulled out a walkie-talkie, which he handed to Ben. He handed the box-cutter to Jack.
“Okay,” said Jack. He cut a small hole in the hollow part of the wall. The box-cutter moved easily through the drywall, and soon Jack was peering into the gloom on the other side of the wall. “There’s a ladder back there,” he said with triumph in his voice.
“Cool,” said Stephen. “See if you can pull that panel.” He reached past Jack, put three fingers through the hole and pulled. The panel was loose from floor to ceiling, only held in place by tape and paint. They pulled the panel away from the wall enough so they could squeeze through.
Jack turned back to Ben and asked, “You coming?”
“No,” Ben replied.
Stephen was already halfway through the hole. When his feet disappeared, Jack followed along -dropping to the floor and squeezing between the wall and the loose panel. He found close quarters inside the wall, but the space contained a ladder.
“Help me push this out,” said Stephen. Together they pressed on the drywall and pulled the rest of the tape holding the panel in place. It popped away from the wall after a few seconds of pushing and they exposed the full entrance to the ladder.
Jack looked back to Ben once more. Ben stared down at his own knees.
“Careful,” said Jack, turning back to Stephen.
Stephen had climbed to the point where his head was about level with the ceiling.
“Be careful with the rungs,” said Jack. “We’ve had two traps that involved grabbing the rung of the ladder just above the ceiling.”
“Well what do you want me to do?” asked Stephen.
“Hold up,” said Jack. He got out the broom handle and taped the mirror to the end at an angle. “Look with this.” he handed up the makeshift periscope to Stephen.
“It’s hard to see,” said Stephen. “But I don’t think there’s any traps.”
“Is there anything on the floor, around the ladder hole?” Jack asked.
“Nope, just plywood,” said Stephen. “I don’t see anything.”
“Maybe you can pull yourself up without grabbing the ladder,” proposed Jack.
“Yeah,” said Stephen, “I think so. Let me try.” Stephen reached up to either side of the hole and grabbed the floor of the next level. Pushing with his legs and pulling with his arms, he ascended.
Jack saw Stephen’s light moving around above him — “What’s up there?”
Stephen’s face appeared in the hole. “Just another room — and there’s nothing attached to this ladder, so you can just climb up it.”
Jack followed up the ladder and pulled himself up the same way Stephen had. Jack blinked and waited for his eyes to adjust to the dark. A significant amount of light was coming up from where the ladder came through the floor, but it only illuminated a small radius. They stood on an unfinished plywood floor, and overhead they saw joists stuffed with insulation.
“Is this the attic?” asked Jack.
“Nah, can’t be — the ceiling isn’t slanted,” replied Stephen. “It would slope up.”
Stephen pointed his light at the floor and walked cautiously away from the ladder. The wall he encountered was framed, but not finished. He was looking at bare studs, through which ran power and water pipes.
“It’s like we’re inside the walls,” said Stephen.
“Thick walls,” said Jack. He had headed the opposite direction and discovered the room was about ten feet wide.
“Let’s try this way,” Stephen pointed.
The room turned out to be significantly longer than wide, and they walked thirty feet before they reached another wall.
“Should we break through?” asked Jack. “Feels pretty solid.”
“I think it’s like brick or something behind here,” said Stephen.
“How about the other direction?” asked Jack.
They headed towards the ladder and then past it. In this direction, the room continued for while and then took a ninety-degree turn right. After rounding the corner, they stopped in their tracks. Ahead of them, just in view of their flashlights, they found the top of the other ladder and the mechanism to lower it down. The whole apparatus looked sticky with red dye. The ladder didn't draw their attention though — their eyes locked on the shiny blades affixed to the ceiling.
“That’s the deathtrap,” said Jack slowly. “Those things would have swung down and cut me in half.”
“I think you’re right,” said Stephen. “Good thing you turned around.”
Approaching carefully, the boys gave the blades a wide berth.
“Jeez, that is pretty dangerous,” said Jack.
“Only because we didn’t have the plans then,” said Stephen. “What triggers those things?”
“Hard to see,” said Jack. “We shouldn’t leave Ben alone downstairs. I’m going to go get him.”
“I’m going to keep looking up here,” said Stephen.
“Be right back.”
When Jack got back down to the white room, Ben hadn’t moved an inch.
“Hey man,” said Jack.
“What’s wrong?” asked Ben, not looking up.
“We found the trap on the other ladder,” said Jack. “Look, I think you should come along. It might be dangerous alone.”
“What makes you think it’s less dangerous for us to be together?” asked Ben.
“Because we’ll help each other out,” said Jack. “Plus we have more chance of seeing something.”
Ben didn’t answer.
“I said I was sorry we didn’t tell you about the map,” said Jack. “Sorry,” he repeated and paused. “But I think together we can figure this thing out. And I really want to figure it out.”
Jack started to walk away, back to the ladder, and then he turned around — “Can you just come with us this time and then you don’t have to come back?”
Ben looked up and studied Jack. “Okay — just this time though.”
“Cool,” said Jack. He reached out to help Ben up, but Ben got up on his own.
When they caught up with Stephen he was past the death trap and sitting on the floor. Jack’s eyes registered only black beyond Stephen.
“There’s a hole,” said Stephen.
The floor was missing just past where Stephen sat. The boys couldn’t see the bottom of the hole. It spanned about eight feet.
“Oh wait,” said Jack. “I’ve got a penny. I’m going to drop this. Ben, can you time it? Everyone be quiet and listen for it to hit.”
Jack held the penny over the hole and waited for Ben to set up the stopwatch on his watch. “On three — one, two, three!”
When Jack released the penny, Ben started his stopwatch. They barely heard the penny hit below. Ben stopped his timer right when they heard the sound.
“One point five-seven seconds,” said Ben.
Jack dug through his pack and pulled out a paper and pencil. “Let’s see, it’s one point five-seven times itself, then times thirty-two point two and divided by two.” he said.
“What the hell are you doing?” asked Stephen.
“Don’t you have physics down south?” asked Ben.
Jack looked up. “That’s weird — it’s almost forty feet deep. I would have thought the whole building was shorter than that.”
“I could have been a little slow with the timer,” said Ben. “Or maybe the foundation goes underground.”
“Well I don’t think you were late — at least not by much,” said Jack.
“Couldn’t you just lower down fishing line?” asked Stephen. “That would tell us how deep it is.”
“How are we going to measure the length of the line?” answered Jack. “Besides, there’s nothing wrong with this method.”
“Well, it’s not that far across anyway,” said Stephen. Without consulting his friends, he removed his pack, swung it back and forth and then pitched it across the hole to the other side. It landed heavily and skidded to a stop. “Hold my light” said Stephen.
“You’re crazy,” said Jack.
“I long-jump father than that in gym class,” Stephen protested. He retreated fifteen feet from the edge and waved Jack and Ben away from the center. “Look out.”
Stephen started to run and then stopped himself. “Hey Ben, point your light at the edge, and Jack, you point yours at the other side.” When the lights were arranged to his satisfaction, Stephen backed up again. This time he accelerated and launched.
Jack held his breath as Stephen flew past him. Stephen landed easily on his feet on the other side.
“You in?” Jack asked Ben.
“I guess,” said Ben. “You first.”
“Hey — catch,” Jack threw his pack over the edge and Stephen caught it on the other side. He looked once more over the edge and then underhand-tossed his flashlight to Stephen also.
He backed up to about where Stephen had started and then Jack ran at the edge. He was nervous and almost didn’t jump at the right time, but he willed himself across the gap and landed on one knee.
Ben followed Jack, executing his jump impulsively with a very small running-start, but easily clearing the gap.
“That wasn’t too bad,” Stephen paused, and then joked “For us — you seemed a little challenged, Jack.”
“Shut up,” laughed Jack. “I made it, didn’t I?”
“Barely,” Ben stated.
“Let’s see where this bitch takes us,” said Stephen.
They headed down the dark passage. It still had a construction look — stud walls and plywood floor. They moved slowly and silently. There was a lot of detail to take in and they didn’t want to miss any potential clues.
Ben finally broke the silence, “Did you guys name this section yet?”
“Nope,” said Jack, “not yet.”
“What about ‘The Attic,’” Ben offered.
“Good,” said Stephen, “but we were talking — it doesn’t have a sloped ceiling, like an attic.”
“Still reminds me of an attic though,” said Jack.
“Okay, then it’s the attic,” said Stephen.
“Looks like the end of the attic is coming up,” said Jack. He shone his light to the end of the room where a wall impeded their progress. On the left side, a doorway-sized hole led to stairs going down. The stairs continued down for five steps, had a landing, and then turned right. There’s was no railing and the treads were made of the same plywood as the floor on which they stood. Above the stairs, the ceiling wasn't sloped, so it didn’t look like a normal staircase — it looked like the stairs descended impossibly deep.
“After all this — these stairs give me the creeps,” said Jack. “You ever see that movie — ‘The People Under the Stairs?’”
“Yeah,” said Ben. “Where the stairs flatten out and they’re like a ramp.”
“Exactly,” said Jack. “I guess we could get back up by climbing those boards like a ladder.” Jack waved his light at the unfinished stud-wall.”
“Unless they just drop through to something,” said Ben.
“Maybe we should link arms in case we fall through,” said Jack.
“Ugh,” said Stephen. “How gay is that? Why don’t you guys hold hands and I’ll just go by myself,” he laughed.
“Yeah, whatever,” said Ben.
Stephen took the lead and headed down. He paused when he got to the landing and waited for Ben and Jack. They all three descended without incident and then Stephen started down the next section. After turning at the landing the stairs continued another fifteen steps uninterrupted. At the bottom, Stephen waited again and inspected the room.
The plywood ended at the stairs — the floor of this new room was black and white tile, like the bishop’s room, but not in a regular diagonal pattern. Ben arrived next and they cast their lights about the room. It wasn’t very big — only about ten feet square — but it was the most decorated room they had seen. With chair-rails, wainscoting, and crown-moulding, the room would have looked elegant under normal lighting. But lighting was not something they could find in the room. No switches, outlets, or fixtures were installed.
The pattern on the floor was a spiral. A line of black tiles directly in front of Stephen was followed by a line of white ones and the lines curved around the room and swirled into the center.
“Jack — what do you make of this?” asked Stephen.
Peering over Ben’s shoulder, Jack assessed the room. “I can’t see any way out.”
“Do you think there’s a booby-trap with the floor again?” asked Stephen. “it does have the same tile as the bishop’s room.”
“I don’t know,” said Jack. “We haven’t seen the same puzzle twice, but could be.”
“I’ll try it out,” said Stephen. “But keep back — I may need to get out of there in a hurry.”
Jack and Ben kept their place on the stairs in case Stephen had to flee. Stephen gingerly stepped into the room; he started by only stepping on the white tiles, but quickly decided to be bold, and stepped on a black one. When nothing happened, he decided to ignore the tiles and walked around looking at the walls.
He tapped occasionally and ran his hands over the walls and wainscoting. Giving up on the walls, he circled the room once with his light trained on the ceiling. After five minutes he hadn’t turned up a single clue. He got down on hands and knees to look at the floor.
“Nothing?” asked Jack.
“Nope,” said Stephen.
Ben and Jack looked at each other and then joined Stephen in the room. They set their lights on the floor, pointing up, and sat in a semi-circle, looking at the stairs. Jack scooted over and knocked on the wall.
“It all seems so solid, like the walls are lined with concrete,” Jack said.
“Yeah,” said Stephen. “I really think they might be.”
“Maybe there was another turn upstairs that we missed,” said Ben.
“I think the floor is supposed to mean something,” said Jack. “What does this pattern mean?”
“Looks like a spiral to me,” said Stephen. “It all comes together here in the center.” he patted the center of the floor. “In China, the spiral is supposed to represent the sun.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” asked Ben.
“I’m just saying,” said Stephen.
“In cartoons,” Ben aped Stephen, “the spiral makes people hip-no-tized.”
Jack laughed and Stephen shot him a cold look. Still smiling, Jack said — “I read this book once where people would gain power by ‘Walking the Pattern’ which was like a spiral. At least that’s how I pictured it.”
“That actually sounds pretty stupid,” said Stephen.
“Naw,” said Jack, “it was cool. You had to be descended from the right family or it would destroy you, and it got harder as you went. But, if you finished it, you would have all kinds of powers.”
“I think I read that book,” said Ben.
“I probably loaned it to you,” said Jack. “I was really into that stuff a couple of years ago.”
“Well, this ain’t no pattern, and I don’t think you’ll get any magical powers by walking it, but knock yourself out,” said Stephen.
“Maybe this whole place is like ‘The Pattern,’” said Jack. “You know — thiswhole thing.”
“Oh god,” said Ben. “You keep trying to make this some kind of big, important adventure. Like sticking your leg in a bear trap and calling it a puzzle.”
“You just don’t get it,” said Jack. “This place is a test, and if we pass then we get the reward.”
“I don’t know where you came up with that,” said Ben.
Stephen interjected — “It doesn’t matter. Who cares if it’s a test or a trap. The thing is — it’s cool and we can beat it if we try. And it’s the most interesting thing to do.”
“Yeah,” said Jack.
“Oh wow — I just figured it out!” said Ben. He sat up straight and his face was serious. “You guys have become retarded.”
“Whatever,” sneered Jack.
“Seriously,” Ben continued, “I think it’s contagious or something, but somehow you’ve both caught ‘tardiness’ at the same time,” he laughed.
“Get real,” said Jack.
Stephen started laughing despite being the butt of the joke — “You know, he might have something. What time is it?”
Ben looked at his watch “It’s a little after noon.”
“I gotta go to the bathroom,” Stephen announced. He started giggling — “Anyone seen a men’s room around here?”
“Why don’t you take a shit in that hole we jumped over?” laughed Ben.
“That would be sick,” Jack coughed. “Can you imagine if someone was down there? That turd would be moving pretty fast.”
“I wonder if anyone’s ever died of that?” said Stephen. “Getting hit with pooh. Oh man, I seriously need to go soon.”
“We better start heading out then — I’m not standing around while you drop a deuce,” laughed Jack.
“Ditto that,” agreed Ben.
“Come on then,” said Stephen. He got up and headed for the stairs. Jack and Ben followed. “Oh, I don’t know if I’m going to make it.”
The boys made their way quickly through the halls and traps they had discovered. They decided to make a list of all the things to avoid — it was getting hard to remember all the tricks along the way. When they got to the stepladder they weren’t sure how to proceed.
“Are we coming back today?” asked Jack.
“No way — I’m not,” said Ben. “I told you, I’m all done.”
“Let’s leave the ladder here,” said Stephen. “I’ll come and hide it if we don’t come back. I just want to go.”
They closed the hatch and laid the ladder on the ground next to the building. Stephen led the way, taking long, careful strides.
“Why didn’t you think of that before we left the house?” asked Ben.
Stephen turned around with his face full of panic. He shot a hand up and pressed his index finger to his mouth — “Shhh!” he mimed. Stephen crouched down — they were still several yards from the main path. Jack and Ben dropped down and listened. Soon they all heard it — they recognized the voice of Smoker and he was just ahead.
Smoker’s voice carried well in the woods and didn’t seem to be moving — “I told you she was a slut,” he said. The boys didn’t hear the response, but then heard Smoker resume: “All the time. It never even happened that much back at the house, but I did it anyway.”
Stephen motioned for them to back up — they headed towards the hotel. When they were out of earshot of Smoker’s conversation, Stephen spoke first — “What are we going to do?”
“We have to go around — I think they’re hanging out on the path,” said Jack.
“I’m going to go in the woods,” said Stephen.
“If it’s really that bad, then go ahead,” said Ben. “It’ll probably take us forty-five minutes to get back to the house if we have to avoid the path.”
“Shit,” said Stephen.
Jack laughed at the unintentional pun. “Just do it. The pilgrims probably did it a thousand times right over by that tree.”
“There were pilgrims here?” asked Ben.
“Well then the Native Americans. Whatever,” said Jack.
“Okay — hold my bag,” said Stephen. He handed his bag to Ben and hiked off towards a thicker area.
Jack sat down on a large root and leaned back against a maple tree. “You’re really not going back in?” he asked Ben.
Ben looked around and found a different tree to lean against. “I don’t think so. It’s really not that fun and I think it’s going to end badly.”
“Yeah, I hear you,” said Jack. “I didn’t want to say this the other day, but I think I was hoping that we would find Gabe Vigue in there.”
“In the hotel?” Ben was surprised. “Why would he be there?”
“I don’t know,” said Jack. “I just thought that it’s probably not someplace the cops would look and if we found it then maybe he did too.”
“But wasn’t that kid like five years old?” Ben asked.
“He would be six now,” Jack answered.
“How would he get out here — or get in there?”
“I don’t know. I thought maybe the guy kidnapped him or something,” said Jack.
“So you do think someone’s around?” Ben questioned. “I thought I was the only one who thought someone was pulling the strings.”
“I’m just saying,” said Jack, “that I could imagine that the kid is still in there, and I thought we might find him. I don’t necessarily think that the guy who set this up is still around.”
“Well, wouldn’t that mean that your neighbor set all this up?” asked Ben.
“I guess so, sure,” said Jack. “And he’s in jail now.”
“That’s true. And it would support my ‘One nut-bag per town idea,’” said Ben.
“Anyway,” said Jack, “I just had this feeling that somehow Gabe might still be okay, and this is the only place I could think of where he’d still be around.”
“Yeah,” said Ben. “But it’s been a long time. He would have to have a bunch of food and water down there to still be alive.”
“They guy who set this up didn’t seem to have any problem planning things,” answered Jack.
Stephen shuffled back out of the woods. “Either of you got any toilet paper?”
“You seem less panicked,” said Ben.
“Yeah, and about five pounds lighter,” said Stephen.
“Gross!” Jack exclaimed. “Let’s go back to the house for a bit.”
Back at the house, the boys split up. Stephen went upstairs to clean up, and Jack and Ben settled in the kitchen where Jack’s mom had her paperwork spread out on the kitchen table.
“How’s it going, guys?” she asked.
“Pretty good,” said Jack.
“Did you eat your sandwiches?” she looked up and took off her glasses.
“Not yet,” said Jack. “We were playing at the creek and Stephen had to go to the bathroom.”
“That’s nice — thanks for sharing that Jack,” she replied and smiled. Jack’s mom turned her attention back to accounting.
“You want to go upstairs?” Jack asked Ben.
“Sure,” said Ben.
“Oh, Ben,” Jack’s mom called out. “I had a note from your mom — you should probably give her a call. She said that you and your brother might need to go away for a week or so.”
“Really?” asked Ben.
“Yes, but give her a call. The note was vague.”
“Okay — thanks,” said Ben.
Jack looked at Ben and then nodded towards the door way. On the way upstairs, Jack became curious. “What do you think that’s about?” he asked.
“I guess my dad’s got a break and wants to do something,” said Ben. “He said it might be a possibility.”
“That sucks,” said Jack. “I mean, cool to see your dad, but sucks that you might have to go.”
They reached Jack’s room and went inside. Jack turned on his ceiling-fan; the breeze cut the heat and made the room comfortable. Jack sat back on his bed and Ben slouched in Jack’s computer chair.
“Somehow I don’t think you’d be that disappointed,” said Ben. “Then you could play at the hotel all day and not worry about me.”
“Hey,” said Jack, “keep it down.” Turning around on the bed, Jack reached over and pushed the door most of the way closed. “That’s just dumb. We’ve been best friends forever.”
“Well usually we both decide what we’re going to do,” said Ben.
“Usually I don’t have an opinion, and we do what you want,” Jack said.
“Fair enough.” Ben smiled. “But isn’t it just better that way?”
“Maybe sometimes,” laughed Jack. “But this thing is cool. It’s like something from the movies.”
The door swung open and Jack sat up.
“What’s cool?” Stephen asked as he walked in. “Nothing up here, that’s for sure. It’s like an oven. I thought you said your dad made air-conditioning or something.”
Jack laughed and Ben replied — “You can forget about that. His dad won’t run the AC until the carpet melts.”
“True story,” added Jack.
Stephen laid down on the floor directly below the fan — “Ahhh, that’s the stuff. I feel like a million bucks now. So what’s going on?” He kicked the door most of the way shut again.
“Well, we still got sandwiches in our packs, Ben might have to leave, and you smell of ass,” said Jack.
“And the fan’s doing a great job of pushing around that fabulous smell,” said Ben.
Stephen propped himself up on his elbows and looked at Ben — “Where do you have to go?”
“I don’t know yet. I’m supposed to call my mom,” said Ben. “But I bet it has something to do with my dad.”
“Well I’ve got two more weeks until I have to be anywhere,” said Stephen. “What are you doing in August, Jack?”
“I’m supposed to see my grandparents,” said Jack. “They sent me a letter, but I haven’t answered it yet.”
“Yuck,” said Stephen.
“They’re actually pretty cool,” said Jack. “I’d just rather be in Maine than Massachusetts in August.”
“Hey, you can come visit me!” said Stephen.
“Wait, I thought you lived in New York City?” Jack asked.
“No way. I live in Boston,” Stephen replied.
“Didn’t you say you were from the ‘Big Apple’? That’s New York,” Jack stated.
“What? No way,” said Stephen. “I think it just means any city. You know, the ‘Big Apple’ like it’s a big place.”
“God, you’re such a retard,” Ben chimed in. “It’s New York.”
“Well what’s Boston then?” asked Stephen. “Are you sure you hicks know what you’re talking about?”
“Ummm, I think Boston is like ‘Bean Town’ or something,” said Jack.
“Bean town? That’s stupid,” said Stephen. “Jesus, who’s the retard now?”
“Hmmm, let me check.” Ben mimed typing on the computer. “Yup, still you.”
“Well that’s good to know,” said Stephen. They all laughed.
A light tap on the door quieted them. Jack’s mom pushed the door open. “You forgot your lunch,” she said. She entered with their bags in one hand and juice-boxes in the other. She set them on the floor next to Stephen.
“Thanks mom,” said Jack.
“Yeah, thanks Ms. Randolph,” said Stephen.
“After you eat, there’s a craft-fair down at the middle school,” she said. “You could show your friends around your old school, Jack.”
“Aw mom,” Jack moaned. “A craft fair?”
“Relax. Just a suggestion,” she said. “I’ll leave you to your important activities.” She backed out of the room and shut the door.
Stephen whispered to Jack — “How come your mom doesn’t work? What’s she doing here all the time?”
“She and my dad own the HVAC business,” said Jack. “She does all the office stuff, accounting, and all that stuff. So, she works here.”
“That must be a drag — always having her around,” said Stephen.
“Nah, it’s cool,” said Jack.
“I like your mom,” said Ben. “She’s nice.”
“Yeah, I guess,” said Jack.
“Well she’s better than that new girl my dad is seeing,” said Ben.
“What happened to Broyhill?” asked Stephen. “My god, she had big tits,” he added.
“That’s old news,” said Ben. “She’s been gone for a while. You know, now that I think of it, you two guys are the only guys I know whose parents are still together.” Ben said to Jack.
“Amazing, isn’t it?” said Jack.
“So if you don’t have to go, are you going to come back to the place with us?” Stephen asked Ben.
“You mean the hotel?” asked Ben in a loud tone.
Stephen looked away from Ben and rolled his eyes at how Ben was trying to sabotage their secret. He raised his hands and shoulders in question and looked at Jack.
“Douche-ism,” said Jack. “It is catching.”
“That explains it,” said Stephen.
“I don’t know,” said Ben. “I guess I’ll go back with you guys. But I have to call my mom first.”
“Well get to it, son,” said Stephen.
Ben rummaged around in his backpack and got out his cell phone.
“That won't work around here,” said Jack.
“Yeah, I know, but I don't have everyone's number memorized,” said Ben. He searched through his contacts as he left to go use the phone in the guest room.
Stephen picked up his own pack and handed the third over to Jack. They found their sandwiches and began eating. Stephen opened a juice box and tossed another one over next to Jack.
“I hope he doesn’t have to go,” said Jack.
“Well, either way,” said Stephen.
“Oh man, how can you say that?” asked Jack. “Ben’s the best.”
“He’s normally the best,” said Stephen. “About this, he’s only fair.” Stephen tilted his hand back and forth.
“I think he’ll come around,” said Jack.
“Hey — what’s this thing?” Stephen had picked up a cuttlefish bone from the shelf. Jack began to explain it’s origin. A few words in and Ben came back in the room.
“What happened?” asked Jack.
“No answer,” said Ben. “Can’t get my brother either. I left a voicemail for my dad though.”
“Sounds like we’re on for this afternoon,” Stephen said through a mouthful of ham and cheese.
“If so, we have to get around Smoker,” said Jack.
“We ought to stay off the path completely,” said Ben. He grabbed his bag and pulled out his sandwich.
“We should check the fishing line,” said Jack. They sat in the woods near the edge of the hotel’s clearing. It took a lot of effort and time to reach the hotel and stay away from the normal path.
“Go ahead,” said Stephen. “We’ll wait.”
“Okay.”
Jack crept off to their left and, keeping his head down, made his way up the gully. From the corner of the building, Jack began down the old path and then bent over to look at the ground. A second later he stood up and flashed an “Okay” sign to Ben and Stephen.
Ben grabbed the ladder and Stephen helped him lift it into position. They got it against the side of the porch and then heard a distant ringing. Ben dropped his end of the ladder and pulled out his phone.
“Huh,” said Jack, surprised the phone worked.
“Hey Dad,” said Ben, trying to sound normal. He listened for several moments. “She said that we have to…” he continued. “I just thought…” Throughout the call, Ben never finished a sentence. “What about…” Finally, Ben said “Ok, thanks,” and hung up.
“Was that your dad?” asked Stephen.
“Who else?” asked Ben. “He doesn’t know what my mom’s up to, but he thinks it’s no good.”
“How’s his trial going?”
“Good, I guess.”
“But you’re not going to see him?” asked Jack.
“Nope — I guess not. Must be something my mom wants me to do then,” he said.
“I hope you’re here on Thursday,” said Jack. “That’s when we’re supposed to get the new envelope.”
“Oh yeah,” said Stephen. “We’re going to have to think of a way to watch the place all day.”
“Why day?” asked Ben. “What if they deliver it at night?”
Jack answered — “You’re right, it would be best to start watching Wednesday night, but I don’t know how since we’re sleeping in the house.”
“Do you have a video camera?” Stephen asked.
“Yeah, but we can’t leave it out all night,” said Jack. “Besides, the batteries and tapes only last a few hours.”
“Let’s get inside,” said Stephen. “We can figure this out later.”
On the way in they stopped at each room and Jack wrote down what they knew in a little notebook. Their goal was to document the tricks and traps so they wouldn’t forget anything. It didn’t take them long to write a sentence or two about the rooms — but they still couldn’t figure out a reliable way to trigger the door to the white room. When they reached the end of tripwire hall, they extinguished their lights and waited. For nearly ten minutes they debated possible solutions to inspiring the door to open.
Finally, the sound began, the crack showed and the door swung open to the blinding, white room. Jack wrote “?” in his notebook under “Open door to white room.”
In the attic section, Ben had an idea to solve their problem with the white room — “Why don’t we just figure out how to disarm this trap and lower down the ladder? Then we won’t have to go through the white room at all.”
“I don’t like the idea of breaking this trap,” said Stephen. “Seems like cheating.”
“You guys already broke through the wall in the white room — what are you worried about?”
“I’d be afraid that we wouldn’t be able to trust that ladder,” said Jack. “I mean what if we thought we had the trap disabled but it turned out it was still set?”
“Good point,” said Ben. “At least we know this way is safe.”
“Come on, let’s go down to the spiral room,” said Stephen. “I’ve got an idea about that.”
Stephen jumped across the pit and then they tossed their packs over to him. Once the gear was safely across, Ben and Jack followed.
“So what’s your idea?” asked Jack.
“It’s that people under the stairs thing — I’ll show you,” said Stephen.
They walked through the attic quickly and descended to the spiral room. Stephen explained his theory as soon as they had all reached the spiral tiles.
“See, we checked all the walls in here, but we didn’t check the stairs,” said Stephen.
He walked over to the narrow stairs and set his light down on the floor. Starting with the bottom stair, Stephen tried to lift the tread and pressed against the riser.
“Look at that,” said Jack as he crossed to the stairs to join Stephen. “Look at the wall there.”
Jack pointed his light at the wall above the third tread. There were faint scrape marks up the stud of the bare wall. He reached out to touch the scrape as Stephen lifted on the third tread. His hand was nearly pinched against the stud as a section of the stairs rose easily at Stephen’s push.
“Wow,” said Jack.
“Hold this open, will you?” Stephen asked Jack. He was holding the stairs up with his left hand.
The section stood five stairs high and it pivoted on a hinge at the top. By stepping over the bottom few stairs, Stephen was able to duck through the hole created. He reached back over the stairs to grab his light.
“I think it’s weighted or something,” said Jack. “I don’t have to hold it up — it just stays here.”
“Probably a spring,” said Ben who had come up behind Jack. “Do we have something to prop it open with so it doesn’t close behind us?”
“I think I’ve still got that piece of broom handle,” said Jack. He pulled the piece of wood out of his pack. It was about eighteen inches long. Jack wedged it between the exposed studs and the bottom of the raised section of stairs.
Ben looked at the arrangement with his flashlight. “Oh, look,” he said. Ben was pointing at a latch build onto the underside of the hinged stairs that extended out and engaged a stud. “I think we’re supposed to use this.” He moved the mechanism and it locked against the stud, holding up the stairs.
When they caught up to Stephen he had shuffled down the passage. The walls, floor, and ceiling were all plywood at only five feet high, requiring the boys to hunch over and shuffle their feet.
“Watch where you’re stepping,” said Ben. “Could be another pit or something.”
“Ben, can you set your alarm?” asked Jack. “I want to make sure we start back to the house at four so we’re not late for dinner.”
Ben paused and set his watch while Stephen roamed ahead. Jack waited for Ben and then the two of them moved quickly to catch up. The hall was full of turns and the boys became disoriented; not sure which direction they were headed.
“Man, this is small,” said Jack.
They came to a four-way intersection.
Stephen had stopped, blocking the hall. “Which way?” he asked.
Ben had an idea — “My brother’s friend goes in caves all the time and he said they always put arrows to mark the way out. Anyone got a marker or something.”
“I’ve got a Sharpie,” said Stephen. He pulled it out of his pack and handed it to Ben.
Ben leaned down and drew an arrow on the floor. It pointed back the way they had come. “So, if we have to get back out, we just follow the arrows,” said Ben.
“That’s cool,” said Jack.
“But which way do we go?” asked Stephen.
“I guess it doesn’t matter,” said Ben. “But if we find a dead end or something, at least we won’t get lost.”
“Let’s keep going straight,” said Jack.
For almost an hour they walked hunched over through the corridors. They marked many more intersections, and plenty of dead ends. When they came to a dead end they would back-track to the previous branch and then put a small “x” on the floor. Eventually they came to something new: the passage took a vertical jog. The ceiling opened, but they faced a wall about five feet high.
“This maze is in ‘3D,’” said Stephen. “Awesome — help me up.”
“Wait, how are we all going to get up?” asked Ben.
“Two will go up and then help the other,” said Stephen. “You go up — I’ll show you.” He laced his fingers together and held out his hands. Ben put a hand on Stephen’s shoulder and then stepped up on to his hands. Stephen lifted him a couple of feet and Ben pulled himself up to the next level.
“You go now,” Stephen said to Jack.
“Nah, I’m lighter than you two. I should go last,” Jack said.
“Makes sense,” said Stephen. “Give me a boost then, would ya?”
Jack boosted Stephen up and Ben helped from above. Then they both leaned over the edge and held out their hands for Jack to pull him up.
“Let me try something first,” said Jack. He handed his light and pack up to Ben.
The passage measured only five feet wide and Jack went to the far right side. Gripping the lip with both hands, he walked his feet up the left-hand side of the wall until he got a foot over the edge. Pulling himself most of the way up, he shot out his left hand at the last second and Ben rolled him onto the edge.
“Pretty good, son,” said Stephen. “I don’t think you even needed help.”
“I need to work on the end-part,” said Jack. “I was stuck.”
Down the corridor they took a left turn followed by right. Another thirty feet along and they faced a five foot drop. Stephen crouched, about to jump down, when Ben stopped him.
“Hey, we only have five minutes until four. Maybe we should head back,” said Ben.
“I just want to see what’s down here,” Stephen said. “We’ll head back when the alarm goes off.”
“We’re just going to have to climb back up though,” said Ben.
“I vote for going until the alarm,” said Jack. “That’s why we set it.”
“Okay,” Ben relented.
They jumped down and found that the hall turned right almost immediately. Six feet later, it ended with a door. Diminutive, but perfectly proportional, the door had an oval-shaped brass handle. It was set into the plywood wall, and it was painted blue with a blue frame.
“Can we even fit through that thing?” Jack asked.
Ben’s alarm sounded and the boys jumped at the sound.
“Let’s go,” said Ben.
They retraced their steps and came to where the corridor jogged up again. Stephen tried Jack’s technique and Ben had to push him over the lip when he could go no further. Ben suffered a similar fate and Stephen grabbed his belt loop and hauled him up.
After handing up his pack, Jack tried a new idea. He used the same positions for his feet and hands, but trotted up to the wall and executed his climb in one smooth motion. Like a high-jumper, he let his momentum pull his weight up and over the edge. Ben and Stephen clapped and whooped approval as Jack made it up on his own.
“You boys are only half awake,” said Jack’s mom at dinner. “Rough day?”
Jack’s had his head turned to the side and propped up on one hand. Ben and Stephen both slumped over their plates.
“We were trying to track a deer,” said Jack. “But it ran too fast.”
“Elbows, Jack,” said his father.
“Hey mom, can we write our diaries in the morning? I’m tired,” said Jack.
“Sure, but they better be done before you go out,” she replied.
The trips back and forth to the hotel had taken their toll. Normally, they could hike that distance with no problem, but they had expended extra energy moving through the woods to avoid Smoker and Bag Man.
“So what’s the most interesting thing you guys have learned this summer?” asked Jack’s dad.
“Ummm, we learned that you can find yellow and black morel mushrooms starting in July,” said Jack.
“It’s easiest to find them four to ten days after a good rain,” said Ben.
“You’re not eating these, I hope?” asked Jack’s dad.
“No, of course not dad,” said Jack. “Oh, and we learned that mosquitos grow in vernal pools.”
“Interesting,” his dad replied. “What are vernal pools?”
“They’re temporary pools that start from springs or spring snow melt,” said Ben. “But they don’t have fish. So salamanders, and frogs, and stuff can live there without being eaten.”
Later, upstairs in Jack’s room, Stephen expressed his disappointment with his friends. “You guys totally wasted all that vernal pool stuff — now what are we going to write about?”
“Relax,” said Jack. “There’s tons of stuff to write about.”
“Yeah, but we had that all worked out,” Stephen sighed. “What a waste.”
“Well what are we supposed to say? ‘Oh no, dad, we didn’t learn anything interesting. Might as well sign us up for soccer camp or hauling trash at one of your work sites,’” said Jack.
“It will take us less time to look up something else, than to argue about it,” said Ben. He was sitting at Jack’s computer and he began to search for another topic. “Hey, you might want to check this out. Looks like it’s going to rain pretty hard tomorrow.”
“What time?” asked Jack.
“Pretty much all day,” said Ben.
“Shit,” said Jack. “The hotel is out then.”
“Why?” asked Stephen. “We can make it inside and then it’s all indoors.”
“My mom thinks we’ll be outside all day,” said Jack. “She won’t want us out in the rain. Plus, we’d have to come home soaked to make it look realistic.”
“Damn,” said Stephen. “I was really looking forward to seeing what’s behind that door. That maze was cool.”
“That reminds me,” Ben got up, “I’ve got to call my mom again.” He walked out of Jack’s room and went to the guest room.
“So what’s the plan then?” asked Stephen.
“I don’t know,” said Jack. “I guess we’ll have to find something else to do tomorrow.”
“What was your dad talking about yesterday?” Stephen asked. “Some job?”
“Wrapping pipes,” Jack said. “I’ve done that for him before. It means he’s working at a place with a bunch of heating pipes and you have to put these covers on all the pipes to keep the heat in.”
“Ugh. Sounds awful,” said Stephen.
“It’s not too bad, but I’d rather just find a way to hang out,” said Jack. “Probably best if we just get up a little late, after he’s gone, and then hang out in the basement.”
“Your mom won’t kick us out?”
“Maybe, but if we’re quiet she might get into her work and not notice us,” said Jack.
The next day, Jack’s plan worked and they spent the morning in the basement, alternating between television and video games. After lunch, they were tired of videos, so they went up to Jack’s room to do their diaries. Ben had the idea of getting ahead on their assignment so they wouldn’t have to worry about it for a few days. He argued that as long as they were stuck inside, they might as well get something out of it. Jack was the fastest writer and had four night’s work done while Ben and Stephen were still wrapping up their second.
Sitting on his bed, Jack was the first to notice the commotion at the Vigue house through a lull in the rain.
“Whoa, check it out,” Jack slid on his bed and pressed his forehead to his window.
Ben and Stephen joined him on the bed and the three of them looked out. Just past the Vigue house they could see several men in jumpsuits carrying furniture and boxes out of Mr. Anderson’s house. Mr. Vigue sat on a folding chair in his lawn, watching the parade of movers.
Jack grabbed his field-glasses and focused on Mr. Vigue. He could make out that Vigue had a beer in his right hand and had his left leg crossed over his right. While Jack watched, Vigue finished his beer and tossed the bottle into Anderson’s yard.
“His furniture is going to get all wet,” said Stephen.
“Who’s that over by the tree?” asked Ben.
Just beyond Anderson’s walkway a tall oak grew in his front yard. Jack could make out the legs of someone leaning against the tree. The legs wore jeans; Jack couldn’t see the anything above the waist — a branch from the tree obscured the top half of the figure.
“I can’t see who it is,” said Jack.
“Is it that guy who lives there?” Ben asked. “The guy the police picked up.”
“I don’t think so. Looks too skinny,” Jack answered.
The boys watched men go back and forth, moving items from the house to the van. The back of the van faced away from them, so its contents were a mystery. The legs beneath the tree came towards the path. Just before the person left the shelter of the oak branch, the movers crossed Jack’s line-of-sight with a couch and the jeans stopped. Jack craned his neck in a useless attempt to see past the branch. Finally the movers had passed and the person continued walking.
Jack nearly dropped the field glasses.
The person walking across Anderson’s yard and heading toward Mr. Vigue was Smoker.
“It’s him,” said Jack. “Smoker.”
“Get the fuck out,” whispered Stephen.
“Shhh!” said Ben. “Watch that fucking language in the house,” he giggled.
Smoker walked up to Mr. Vigue and crossed his arms, standing with his feet spread confidently. He tiled his head to the side as he listened. From the back of his head, and the way his arms moved around, Vigue spoke to Smoker with great animation. A few moments later, the Bag Man appeared from under the oak tree and crossed the yard to stand next to the pair.
“The Bag Man,” said Jack. “And he’s got another bag with him.”
“Is it moving?” asked Stephen.
“I don’t think so,” said Jack. “But this one looks heavy.”
As they watched, Vigue handed something to Smoker and then the Bag Man handed his bag to Vigue. Smoker nodded and then walked off towards the street with the Bag Man in tow.
“Are they selling drugs?” asked Stephen.
“Maybe. But I can’t imagine Mr. Vigue buying them,” said Jack. “Although he’s been pretty upset since the Gabe thing.”
“Oh, that’s the guy who had his kid abducted?” Stephen asked.
“Yeah,” said Ben. “That’s Gabe’s dad.”
“Holy shit,” said Stephen. “He must be pissed. Maybe they sold him a weapon or something.”
“What for?” said Jack. “The cops already have Anderson.”
Ben got up from the bed and went over to the computer. “I’ll check online. Maybe something happened.”
Jack and Stephen continued to watch out the window. The movers carried mostly boxes at this point and the occasional lamp or chair.
“Can I look through those?” Stephen asked Jack, and Jack handed over the field glasses. “Looks like that one guy is filling out a form or something,” he reported.
A man, his jumpsuit unzipped to the waist, stood about halfway down the walk. He studied the clipboard propped against his belly and then waved to his co-worker. The man then went back to the house and closed the front door.
“Looks like they’re done,” said Stephen.
One mover climbed into the cab while the other was working behind the truck. The other movers piled into a pickup the same color as the bigger truck.
“Yup, definitely taking off,” said Stephen.
“I guess it’s not a crime scene anymore,” said Jack.
“This is all I can find,” said Ben. He read the headline: “Durham man held without bail for Gabe Vigue disappearance.”
“That’s all?” asked Stephen.
“Yeah,” said Ben, “but it’s from June twenty-third.”
“I bet my mom would know more,” said Jack. “She reads the paper every day.”
“So ask her,” said Stephen.
“I guess,” said Jack. “But she was pretty upset when they took him.”
“There’s nothing better to do. Go ask,” said Stephen.
“Okay, I’ll be right back,” said Jack. He got up off the bed and left his room, closing the door behind himself. He found his mom downstairs in their home office.
“Hey mom?”
She looked up from her papers — “Hey Bub, what’s up?”
“What, um, what ever happened with Mr. Anderson?” Jack asked.
“Oh honey,” she began, “don’t worry about that.”
“I’m just wondering because they’re taking away all his furniture,” said Jack.
“Well that’s probably for the best,” she said.
“Do you think he did it?”
“I don’t know. I guess we’ll find out. But, either way, I don’t think he was going to be able to live next to the Vigues anymore.”
“How come?”
“Well, regardless if he’s found guilty or innocent, I think that the Vigues would always have their suspicions, and it would be uncomfortable for them to live next door,” his mom said.
“How long has Mr. Anderson lived in Maine?” asked Jack.
“Um, let’s see, he moved here in nineteen ninety-eight,” she replied.
“Oh,” said Jack. “Where did he live before that?”
“He was in Europe,” she said. “France mostly, I think.”
“What was he doing there?” asked Jack.
“Why are you so curious about Mr. Anderson’s history all of a sudden?”
“I don’t know — just curious,” said Jack.
“Okay. Well I don’t really know that much about Mr. Anderson before he moved in there. I think his work sent him overseas.”
“Thanks mom,” Jack turned to go.
“Hey Bub, did I get your essay yet from yesterday?” she asked as he walked away.
“Oh, I’ll go get it,” said Jack.
“Don’t worry — give it to me with tonight’s,” she said.
Back upstairs, Ben and Stephen discovered the website of a local newspaper. They searched for information about Anderson, but they didn't turn up anything new.
“What’d you find out?” Stephen asked as Jack entered.
“Not much, but she did say that he was living in France before nineteen ninety-eight.”
“Really?” asked Stephen. “Why France?”
“Who knows,” said Jack.
“So she doesn’t know why he’s moving?” asked Ben.
“Nope,” said Jack. He opened the second drawer of his dresser and moved his shirts aside. The drawer-liner hid the letter they found at the hotel. Jack took it over to the bed. “This was supposedly written in nineteen ninety-one.”
“I wouldn’t trust that thing,” said Ben.
“Yeah,” said Jack, distracted. “He talks about a trust for the taxes and stuff. Really sounds like he’s planning to not be around. Maybe that’s because he was going to France.”
“So you think that this Anderson guy set up the hotel? If he did, wouldn’t he start looking after the place himself when he got back?” asked Stephen.
“I don’t know, maybe he wanted to be anonymous,” said Jack.
“Well I don’t think the hotel guy is Mr. Anderson,” said Ben. “I’m not sure if Anderson snatched the Vigue kid, but I think that the hotel guy is still at the hotel.”
“That’s super sketchy — what makes you think that?” Stephen wrinkled his nose.
“It just feels planned. Like he’s there and waiting for us,” said Ben.
“You know, one thing makes sense about Anderson being the manager of the hotel — this kind of creepy stuff has to be really rare. I mean, what are the odds that one town would have a crazy hotel and a kidnapper?”
“Yeah,” said Jack, “that’s why I keep thinking they’re connected.”
“You just want everything to tie up neatly,” said Ben.
“Well I guess it doesn’t really matter much,” said Jack. “If they are connected Anderson is in jail anyway, and if they’re not, there’s no reason to believe that the hotel guy is still around.”
“Except that’s exactly what I believe,” said Ben.
“Yeah,” smiled Jack, “but aside from that.”
“You think it’s a joke,” said Ben. “We’ll see.”
“Hey, that reminds me, we have to do those essays,” said Jack.
Wednesday was sunny and the boys told Jack’s mom that they were going to catalogue the species of reptiles near the creek. They had already written essays about it and hidden them in Jack’s shirt drawer. They planned to set out after breakfast.
While Jack and Stephen did the dishes, Ben tried to reach his mother on the phone. He came back to the kitchen to find his friends just wrapping up their chores.
“What’d she say?” asked Jack.
“I still can’t get her,” said Ben. “At the house the answering machine picks up, and her cell phone is off.”
“What about your brother’s phone?” Jack asked.
“Nothing,” replied Ben.
“I bet she lost her cell again,” said Ben. “That’s all I can think.”
“Yeah, but why wouldn’t she get your message?” asked Jack.
“She hardly ever checks it,” said Ben. “Whatever. I’m sure she’ll get back to me soon.”
“We ready?” asked Jack.
“Why not,” said Ben.
They grabbed their packs, put on sunscreen so Jack’s mom wouldn’t worry, and headed out. Since it was fairly early, they decided to risk the path, but they didn’t talk to one another so they could listen for Smoker. Jack took the lead and paused every hundred yards, to hear if anything was following them. They verified Jack’s fishing line still stretched across the path, and were unsurprised that the new envelope hadn’t arrived.
Jack led them rapidly through the hotel’s passages, checking his notebook at each room to be sure they remembered each trick. They had grown accustomed to waiting for the white room, so they talked and sat in the dark for over fifteen minutes.
“This sucks — it’s not going to open,” said Jack. He turned on his light.
“Maybe it’s us,” said Ben. “Try turning off the light again and let’s all just be quiet.”
“You think someone is listening?” asked Stephen, dubious.
“It could be simpler than that. Maybe it’s just a motion or noise sensor,” answered Ben. “I’m pretty sure the light has to be off, but maybe we have to be still and quiet too.”
“Worth a shot,” said Jack.
After they had extinguished their lights and sat quiet for two minutes, the door began to open.
“See?” gloated Ben.
When they arrived at the spiral room with the door under the stairs, the scene jogged Jack’s memory. “Hey Ben, set your watch alarm for eleven a.m., would you?”
“Sure,” said Ben. “Why? You want to turn around then?”
“Not necessarily, but I want to make the decision then,” said Jack.
“Okay,” said Ben.
Today the maze was no challenge. On the way out on Monday they had added to their markings. Each time they reached a new decision point they had marked the way out, but when they followed those markings, they also marked the way they had come. This gave them a series of indicators that showed both the way in and out.
“This is awesome, Jack,” commented Ben. “I’m going to tell my brother about marking both directions.”
When they reached the ledge none of the boys wanted a boost. They wanted to try Jack’s method of vaulting up to the next level. Stephen had to try several times, but Ben was a natural once he watched Jack accomplish the jump.
Soon the door stood before them. Jack approached it first. He hunched over; it only came up to his stomach.
“This thing is tiny,” said Jack. He ran his hand over the panels. The hinges were visible, so he guessed that it would open towards him. Jack got down on the plywood floor and tried to look under the crack of the door. He saw only black.
“Let’s just try it,” said Stephen. “What’s the worst that could happen.”
“Plenty,” said Ben.
“I’m going to try it,” said Jack.
Ben retreated a step and Stephen moved to Jack’s side as he reached for the ornate handle.
“I wonder where you even get a door handle that size,” said Jack, stalling.
Jack knelt and put his hand on the door knob. His grip swallowed the small brass knob. “Won’t turn,” he said.
“What?” asked Stephen. “Let me try.”
Jack backed away and let Stephen try the knob. Failing his first attempt, Stephen handed back his flashlight and tried with both hands.
“It’s not like it’s locked,” said Stephen, grunting. “It’s like it’s stuck. If it were locked, I think this handle would turn. I mean it has a separate hole for a key — so it’s not the deadbolt. Anyone got a credit card? My dad showed me how to open a door with one.”
“Can’t you just take the hinges off?” asked Ben. He pointed at the exposed hinges on the left side.
“Maybe,” said Jack. “Who has the screwdriver?”
“Right here,” Stephen pulled one from his pack and handed it to Jack.
Kneeling, Jack started with the bottom hinge. The pin was stubborn, but Jack got it started by wedging the blade of the screwdriver below its head and pounding the handle with his palm. The first inch was difficult, then the pin popped out. Jack moved on to the middle one.
“Lousy security,” said Ben. “Almost too easy. Maybe we should think about this for a second.”
“Could be anything,” said Stephen. “Poison gas, a shotgun pointed right at us, a midget with a hatchet — what’s the point in worrying about it? Wouldn’t he have killed us by now if he wanted to?”
“Didn’t he just try to kill us with the level-two ladder?” asked Ben. “Why would he stop now?”
“Bah,” said Stephen. “Seriously, don’t worry about it.”
“I’ll be back here,” said Ben.
The top pin was giving Jack trouble. “I think the door is sagging,” he said.
Stephen pushed up on one of the left-hand panels in the door to take the pressure off the hinge. One more hit from Jack and the pin flew up and out of the door.
“I think it’s going to fall open,” said Stephen. “Back up a little,” he said to Jack.
Gradually, Stephen let go of the door and it stayed upright. Jack came forward and used the screwdriver to lever the door from the hinge. Groaning and creaking, it fell off the hinges with a loud thump, but stayed upright. Jack and Stephen scrambled back.
“Hey — don’t worry about it, guys,” mocked Ben from several feet away.
“Go open it,” said Stephen.
“You do it,” Jack countered.
“Fine,” said Stephen. He approached the door and gingerly grabbed the middle hinge. Stuck against the floor and latch, the door wouldn’t budge. He grabbed it with both hands and had to rock it several times to pull it away from the frame. “Jesus, that thing is heavy as fuck,” he said. With one final tug the door came loose and slammed to the floor at their feet.
Jack and Stephen stared down. Still keeping his distance, Ben couldn’t see what was going on. “What’s there?” he pushed between them. Instead of looking through the doorway, his friends were studying a map painted on the door. The door had fallen towards them, so it was upside down, but so was the painting.
At the bottom of the drawing a yellow star was labeled “Go.” A Network of lines branched out from the yellow star, twisting and sometimes crossing one another. Where they came to a stop, most of the lines ended with a skull and crossbones. Some were just an oval with two eye-dots atop a wide “X” in white.
“Looks like more traps after all,” said Stephen. “Lots of them.”
Jack was counting under his breath — “Twenty-two traps. It’s going to take forever to get through here. I can’t see any pattern at all.”
“Start writing it down,” said Stephen.
“Yup,” said Jack. He pulled out his notebook and sat cross-legged next to the door.
Stephen leaned against the wall and looked at the map. “So we go straight, take our second right, the third left. Wait, is this the end?”
“Maybe,” said Ben. “But it could also be here.”
“I wonder what these traps are,” said Jack.
Ben stepped past Jack and the door and shone his light down the passage. “Pretty small in there — smaller than out here,” he said.
“So, is this level one we’re on now?” asked Stephen. “We came down from level two, so it must be back to one.”
“I haven’t seen any signs,” said Ben.
“There’s one right here,” said Jack. Ben turned around to see he was pointing at the corner of the door. “It says ‘Level 4,’” he said.
“Interesting numbering scheme,” said Stephen. “I guess it’s not based on height.”
“That means there’s also not a boss at the end of each level,” said Ben. “Unless you count the stairs and this little door.”
“Seem like pretty easy bosses,” said Stephen.
“I can just see down to the first turn-off,” Ben was looking down the hall again. “It’s like the walls absorb the light — you can hardly see any distance.”
Stephen added his light to Ben’s — “Your light is getting dim too. We should bring more batteries next time. Let’s go down there a little while Jack’s copying the map.”
“Yeah, go ahead, you can safely go down to the second right at least. Let me know if you can see anything funny down the first right,” said Jack.
“Okay,” said Stephen. “Right behind you, Ben.”
To make his way down this more narrow passage, Ben had to resort to almost crawling. It was only four feet high and he walked with one hand down on the floor.
“You weren’t kidding about the height,” said Stephen.
“Here’s the first right,” Ben paused ahead and waited for Stephen to catch up.
They both shone their lights down the passage — it went about ten feet and stopped abruptly with a black wall.
“Does this one end in a trap?” Stephen called back to Jack.
“Yeah,” Jack yelled back.
“I can’t see anything — you?” Ben asked Stephen.
“Nope. Guess we don’t want to find out, either,” Stephen replied. “We should mark it.”
Ben tried to mark the floor of the passage, but the floor, walls, and ceiling were too dark for the Sharpie to show up. “Hope we don’t have to get out of here in a hurry,” said Ben.
“What time is it, anyway?” Stephen asked.
Ben looked at his watch — “About ten till eleven. Why? You have to take a dump again?”
“Ha, ha,” said Stephen stoically. “When I do, you’ll be the first to know.”
“All these passages and traps and stuff. Would it have killed the guy to put in a bathroom?” asked Ben. “So the next right?”
“Yeah, straight then second right, and third left,” said Stephen.
“We should bring some masking tape or something,” said Ben.
“What for?” asked Stephen.
“We could make little arrows out of tape, since we can’t write on the floors here,” said Ben.
“Doesn’t Jack have duck tape?” pondered Stephen. “I think he does. Let me go find out.”
Stephen backtracked while Ben looked for the right turn. At the door, Jack was still reproducing the map in his notebook. He started putting all the side passages and the trap markers. Jack was busy erasing a line he had drawn out of scale when Stephen walked up.
“Do you think I need to do the whole thing?” Jack asked. “I think I can just draw a stub of a line for the ones that end up with a trap.”
“I think we need the whole thing,” said Stephen. “We want to make arrows out of duck tape to stick to the floor. Do you have it?”
“In my bag,” Jack waved at his backpack.
Stephen was pawing through Jack’s pack when they heard a thump from down the narrow passage.
“Did you hear that?” asked Stephen.
“Yeah,” said Jack as he cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled “BEN?”
They froze, Jack by the map and Stephen kneeling at Jack’s pack. They listened intently, but didn’t hear any more sounds.
“C’mon,” said Jack, jumping up and nearly hitting his head on the low ceiling.
“Hold up — take this,” Stephen held out Jack’s pack.
They got to the first intersection and pointed their flashlights down the right turn.
“He kept going when I turned back,” said Stephen. He led Jack further down the hall. They reached the second right turn, the one they had planned to take, but there was still no sign of Ben.
“He would have gone this way,” said Stephen. “We said straight, second right, third left.”
“Wait, third left?” asked Jack he was consulting his drawing of the map.
“Yeah — let me see,” said Stephen. He turned to face the same direction as Jack and they both looked.
“I don’t think this line here is supposed to be a hall,” said Jack, pointing at the first left off the passage they stood in front of. “This line was a different color, and I’m not sure it really intersects.”
“Shit, you’re kidding,” said Stephen. He started to head down the passage to the right.
“Stop, let me do this,” Jack had wriggled off his pack to get out the duck tape. He peeled off a strip and then divided it in two and tore on of those pieces in half. He laid out an arrow on the floor that pointed in the direction they came.
“Okay,” said Jack.
They continued down the hall, nearly crawling under the short ceiling. Jack was starting to feel uncomfortable in this confinement, but ignored it and moved quickly to find his friend. They passed one left turn and Jack stopped at the second.
“I think this is the tunnel we want to take,” said Jack.
“And Ben would have taken the next one,” said Stephen.
“Yup,” said Jack, looking at his map again. “But he wouldn’t have even gotten there according to this.” he said.
“There’s a trap on this hall?” Stephen had begun crawling down towards the third left, but this news brought him to a halt.
“Yeah, check it out,” said Jack. The map showed an “X,” Jack’s version of the Jolly Roger, past the second real left.
“BEN?” Jack yelled.
They waited again to see if there would be a response, but heard nothing.
“Hey Ben!” yelled Stephen.
After a few moments, Stephen asked “So what do we do now? He probably tripped a booby trap or something. What if we get caught too?”
“He wasn’t expecting it, but we are,” said Jack. “Let’s just take it really slow and try to figure it out.”
“Okay,” said Stephen.
On their hands and knees, they crawled nervously down the tight tunnel. Stephen took the lead and leaned down frequently to study the passage from a different angle. When they reached the third left turn without incident, Stephen turned around.
“Shouldn’t we have hit something by now?” Stephen asked.
“According to this we should have,” said Jack. “There should be another one down there also.” Jack pointed his light down the third left.
“I wish Ben hadn’t gone on without that tape.”
“Shit, we should have been marking these intersections?” said Jack.
“Why? We just went straight,” Stephen argued.
“Yeah, but if we get turned around, we’re not going to know what straight was,” said Jack.
“Let’s go back then,” said Stephen. “Last thing we need is for all of us to get lost. We’ll mark them and then look harder for some sign of Ben.”
“Okay,” said Jack. “Oh wait — if he’s trapped behind something, we might be able to still see his light. We should turn off our lights and see.”
“Yeah, good idea.”
When they switched off their lights Jack immediately noticed how loud his heart was beating. He could hear his own breathing, and if he focused, Stephen’s breathing as well. Suddenly they heard a familiar sound, distant and muffled.
“Ben’s watch!” exclaimed Stephen. They both fumbled with their lights and they came on simultaneously.
“Back this way,” said Jack. Shuffling back the way they came, they had to stop frequently to listen for the watch alarm. Jack stopped when they crouched between the second and third left. “It’s getting quieter.” he said.
Stephen pressed his ear to the floor. “I think it’s coming from under here,” Stephen backed up and Jack came forward a bit. Jack put his ear to the floor and confirmed Stephen’s findings. “Hey Ben!” Stephen pounded on the floor with his palm.
“Ben!” Jack added. They pounded for a few seconds and then waited. They could still hear a watch alarm going off, but nothing else. Pounding harder this time, their screams were almost becoming panicked. “Ben! Hey Bey!” they shouted.
Stephen stopped and Jack paused as well.
Muffled they both heard “Ungh,” from below the floor.
“Can you hear us?” Stephen yelled. There was no reply.
Jack felt around for any seam or crack in the floor. He pressed firmly on the floor, walls, and ceiling, looking for the trigger. Stephen followed Jack’s lead and soon they both pressed on every surface.
“There’s got to be some…” Jack was cut off by a groan from below. It was louder than before.
“Ben?” Stephen called. “Are. You. There?” he said slowly.
They heard a muffled reply from below. Jack pressed his ear to the floor. “What?” said Jack. This time he could make out the reply.
“I’m in a hole,” they heard Ben say from below.
“How did you get down there?” yelled Jack.
“I don’t know,” they heard Ben say. “It smells funny down here.”
Stephen looked up at Jack — “We gotta find out how to get down there,” he whispered to Jack.
“No shit,” said Jack.
“What about the map?”
“It doesn’t have that much detail — I don’t think we’re going to learn anything useful,” replied Jack.
“Fuck me,” exclaimed Stephen.
“He must have been crawling along and then done something to open up the floor,” said Jack
“Yeah, unless he’s right, and there’s someone else here,” said Stephen.
“Well, there’s nothing we could do if that’s true, so let’s assume it isn’t,” said Jack.
“What are you guys doing?” Ben asked from below. “Get me out of here.”
“Hold on,” yelled Jack. “We’re working on it.”
“Call your parents!” Ben said.
“I said hold on, Ben. We’re almost to you,” Jack lied.
Stephen looked at him reproachfully and Jack shrugged his shoulders.
“Let’s just try a couple of things,” Jack whispered. “Take this,” he handed Stephen his backpack. Jack started with flipping over onto his back and pressing against the ceiling with his feet. He thought he could feel the floor give a little where Ben sounded loudest.
“We should just break the floor,” said Stephen. “That’s all the fire department would do.”
“With what?” asked Jack.
“Don’t we have a hammer or something?”
“I don’t, no,” said Jack.
“Hey Ben, you got a light down there,” said Stephen.
“Yeah, but it doesn’t work,” Ben replied.
“Shit,” said Stephen. “What if you need to shine a light on just the right thing or something?”
“I don’t know,” said Jack. “Doesn’t sound like a reliable trap. You want it to get someone every time.”
“Yeah, unless someone’s already in there,” said Stephen.
“Hey! Maybe that’s it,” Jack was excited. “Maybe because he’s already down there, we can’t get it to open up!” Jack raised his voice again — “Hey Ben, how far apart are your walls? Can you lift up off the floor for a second?”
“I don’t know,” they heard Ben say. “Yeah, but I can’t hold here long.”
Jack backed up and waved for Stephen to do the same. Jack then tried to walk the way he had seen Ben move earlier — hunched way over with his right hand on the ground.
“I can’t hold this much longer,” Ben said from below.
The floor started to move right where Ben's voice sounded loudest. Jack braced his legs on the walls, and then leaned into his hand.
The floor fell away as a trapdoor opened. Jack began to tumble into the hole. From the other side, Stephen’s hand shot out and grabbed Jack, arresting his fall. Jack regained his balance and braced himself against the far side.
They couldn’t see Ben in the dark. Stephen let go of Jack’s hand and pointed his light into the hole just as Ben lost his grip on the walls and fell to the floor. With Ben’s weight pressing down at the bottom of the pit, the trapdoor began to rise back up into place, but Jack thrust his hand in the gap to stop it from closing.
The trapdoor shut hard on Jack’s hand and he cried out in pain. “Get off the floor!” he yelled to Ben below. Ben sprung back up, and Jack pull his hand out.
“Bag,” Jack said to Stephen, reaching toward his pack. When he had his pack propping open the door he looked down at Ben — “Okay” Jack said.
Ben lowered himself to the floor and the door closed on Jack’s pack but was unable to latch.
“Give me a hand, will you?” Jack reached his injured hand toward Stephen who took it in both of his. Stephen pulled Jack to the far side of the hole. They looked through the gap made by the backpack. Ben stood about ten feet below.
The pit was narrow enough — Ben could brace his back against one wall and his feet against the other to hold himself off the floor. Jack suggested that might be his way out.
“Can you climb up here by bracing against the wall?” Jack asked Ben.
“Maybe,” Ben said. “Catch” he said as he threw his backpack up to Stephen.
He put his back against one wall and pushed with bent legs against the opposite. Pressing behind himself, he could raise his back up several inches and then shuffle his feet up. When he got bolder with his arms, and pushed himself up about a foot, he really started to make progress.
“Get ready to grab me — I don’t know what I’m going to do at the top,” said Ben.
“Okay,” said Jack.
Jack and Stephen pressed the trapdoor out of the way completely now that Ben’s weight was off the floor. When Ben got high enough he had to step on the folded trapdoor to go higher.
“I should have started the other way,” said Ben.
“Yeah, but it would be harder to pull you out if you were sideways,” said Jack.
“Just get a little higher and we can grab you,” said Stephen. “Oh shit — you’re head is totally fucked up.”
“Yeah? It really kills,” said Ben.
Stephen shone his light on Ben’s head where his hair was matted down with blood. Ben slid his torso up as high as he could without planting feet on the trapdoor. “This is it,” Ben said. He raised his arms up to Stephen and Jack. They each grabbed a hand, and leaning over the edge of the hole, tried to grab Ben under his armpits.
“Okay, go slow,” said Jack.
With support, Ben was able to kick against the folded trapdoor and get even higher. His feet flailed somewhat when they got his head and shoulders above the floor level, but then Ben kicked off and popped out of the hole to fall in a heap with Jack and Stephen. The trapdoor closed behind him and snapped into place.
“Jesus, you okay?” asked Jack.
“I don’t know,” Ben gently patted at his head with his hand. “How does it look.”
“Bad,” said Stephen. “Were you like knocked out or something?”
“I think so,” said Ben. “I woke up in the dark and my alarm was going off. I was upside down, like resting on my head.”
“Wow, that sucks,” said Jack.
“Yeah, no kidding,” said Ben. “Which way out?”
“That way,” pointed Stephen. “We’re on the wrong side of that thing,” he waved at the trapdoor.
“I think we can stretch across,” said Jack.
Ben tried to get his flashlight to come on, but it was stubborn. Jack handed him an extra light from his pack and Ben stowed the broken one.
“So much for that stupid map,” said Ben.
“No, the map’s okay,” said Jack. “We just miscounted the number of turns.”
“My bad,” said Stephen.
“Well, whatever, let’s get gone,” said Ben.
“Yeah, too bad though,” said Jack. “It’s not even noon yet.”
“You want to keep going?” Ben was furious. “I might have to go get stitches, ass.”
“It’s not that bad, Ben,” said Stephen. “Are you sure you don’t want to just hang out for a second while we look for the next area?”
“Yeah, I’m fucking sure,” yelled Ben. After raising his voice he grabbed his head with new pain. Jack rolled his eyes at Ben’s discomfort.
“Okay, no sweat, we’ll get going then,” said Stephen.
Jack grabbed his pack and tossed it past the trapdoor. Reaching past the seam, he straddled the hole and then hopped his feet across. Once on the other side, he collected his pack and shone his light so Ben could see.
“Here,” Ben slid his pack. He reached across and tried to copy Jack’s move, but he was clumsy and barely made it. Right behind him, Stephen made it look easy.
As they made their way out of the hotel, each obstacle seemed to present more of a challenge for Ben. He was barely able to haul himself up the five-foot climbs in the maze section, even with help from above and below. He took several minutes to work up the nerve to attempt the long jump in the attic. In the bishop’s room, Ben’s balance faltered and he kept slipping from the white tiles, triggering the door to close: sixty seconds each time.
By the time they made it outside, Ben felt like he was under attack from Jack and Stephen, and they both felt that Ben was being dramatic about his injury.
“You should wash your head in the creek,” said Jack.
“No way — it will totally get infected,” replied Ben.
“You’ll be okay,” said Jack. “We’ve never gotten infected before.”
“This is a head wound,” said Ben. “We’ve never exactly had a head wound.”
“Same difference,” said Jack. “Besides, what are you going to tell my mom?”
“Seriously? That’s what you’re worried about?” asked Ben. “I’ll tell her whatever I want. Shit, I’ll tell her the truth. But whatever I tell her doesn’t matter, as long as I get my head fixed up.”
“Yeah, Ben, you’re right,” mediated Stephen. “You need to get fixed up — let’s get you fixed up.”
Stephen led Ben through the woods towards the path.
Jack followed, but was still irritated and it showed in the way he stomped through the woods. Stephen shot Jack a look.
Stephen had his arm across Ben’s shoulders. Jack carried Ben’s pack.
Stephen broke the silence in a reasonable, calm voice — “When we get back we’ll find Jack’s mom right away.”
“Yeah, good idea,” said Ben.
“We might as well tell her you hit your head in the woods though,” said Stephen. Ben began to protest, but Stephen kept talking — “I mean it doesn’t really matter, as long as you get to the hospital — right?”
“You think I’ll have to go to the hospital?” asked Ben.
“I don’t know, but probably, ’cause it’s Jack’s mom,” answered Stephen.
“What do you mean?”
“Well if it were Jack, she’d probably just look at it and say he could just wash it off, but she’s not going to say that to someone else’s kid,” said Stephen. “She’d be too afraid of getting sued or something.”
“That’s crazy,” said Ben. “She’s known my mom forever, she’ll won’t treat me any different.”
“Remember that time you scraped your leg on that tree out back?” Jack joined in from behind. “And my mom made you call your mom?”
“Yeah, that's right,” said Ben. “You guys know I hate the hospital. You’re just trying to get me to keep quiet.”
“Look, if your mom was answering the phone, I’m sure you wouldn’t have to go,” said Stephen. “But if Jack’s mom can’t get in touch with her, then you’re screwed.”
“I didn’t think of that,” said Ben. “Man, I really don’t want to go.”
“It won’t be that bad,” said Stephen. “In and out.”
“What’s my head look like, anyway?” asked Ben. “Is there like a huge gash?”
“Umm, can’t see, you’ll have to get down,” said Stephen.
Ben got on his knees and Stephen inspected his cut. Right at his hairline, above his forehead, Ben had a scrape and a cut about an inch long. His matted hair made it difficult to see the extent of the injury, but Stephen guessed that it might call for stitches.
“Yup,” said Stephen. “You’re going to the hospital.”
Jack was surprised at Stephen’s answer. He thought that Stephen was trying to convince Ben not to tell anyone, but now Stephen sounded serious. Peeking over Stephen’s shoulder, Jack saw that Stephen was right — in the daylight he could tell this was too serious to be covered up.
“What do you think, Jack?” asked Ben.
Jack paused and considered lying. This might be his last chance to salvage the possibility of exploring the hotel.
“He’s right — you need a doctor,” said Jack. “It won’t be like last time though — I swear. It’s totally different when you’re going in for an injury. When I hurt my arm I was out in a couple of hours.”
Ben sighed — hospitals were his least favorite subject — “Last time I went in, I was in and out for months.”
“Come on, you’re not getting any better here,” said Stephen.
Jack shifted Ben’s pack to his right hand so he prop up Ben with his left. Jack and Stephen practically carried Ben back to the house.