27 - A Night in Terror Tower (6 page)

His voice cracked. I could see he was having trouble holding back the tears.

Panic choked my throat. I suddenly felt as if I couldn’t breathe. I stared at
Eddie and couldn’t say a word.

What could I say?

My brain spun like a tornado. “We’ve lost our memory,” I finally uttered. “At
least, part of our memory.”

“How?” Eddie demanded in a trembling voice. “How could that happen to
both
of us?”

I clasped my hands tightly in my lap. My hands were as cold as ice. “At least we still remember
some
things,” I said,
trying not to despair completely.

“We still remember our first names,” Eddie replied. “But not our last. And
what else do we remember?”

“We remember our room number,” I said. “Six twenty-six.”

“But the desk clerk said we don’t belong in that room!” Eddie cried.

“And we remember
why
we came to London,” I continued. “Because Mom and
Dad had these important meetings.”

“But there
are
no meetings at the hotel!” Eddie exclaimed. “Our
memories are wrong, Sue. They’re all wrong!”

I insisted on figuring out what we
did
remember. I had the feeling if
I could list what we
did
remember, we wouldn’t feel so upset about what
we had forgotten.

I knew it was a crazy idea. But I didn’t know what else to do.

“I remember the tour we took today,” I said. “I remember everywhere we went
in London. I remember Mr. Starkes. I remember—”

“What about yesterday?” Eddie interrupted. “What did we do yesterday, Sue?”

I started to reply, but my breath caught in my throat.

I couldn’t remember yesterday!

Or the day before. Or the day before that.

“Oh, Eddie,” I moaned, raising my hands to my cheeks, “something is terribly
wrong.”

Eddie didn’t seem to hear me. His eyes were locked on the front of the
restaurant.

I followed his gaze—and saw the slender, blond-haired man step into the
room.

The taxi driver.

We had forgotten all about him!

I jumped up. The napkin fell off my lap, onto my shoe. I kicked it away and
reached down to tug Eddie’s arm. “Come on—let’s get out of here.”

Eddie gazed up at me uncertainly, then back at the taxi driver. The taxi
driver had stopped just past the entrance. His eyes were searching each table.

“Hurry,” I whispered. “He hasn’t seen us yet.”

“But maybe we should just explain to him—” Eddie said.

“Huh? Explain what?” I shot back. “That we can’t pay him because we lost our
memory and don’t know our name? I really don’t think he’ll buy that—do you?”

Eddie twisted his face in a frown. “Okay. How do we get out of here?” he
demanded.

The front door was blocked by the taxi driver. But I spotted a glass door on
the back wall near our table.

The door had a filmy, white curtain over it and a small sign that read: NO
EXIT.

But I didn’t care. Eddie and I had no choice. We
had
to leave—fast!

I grabbed the knob and pulled the door open. Eddie and I slipped through,
then tugged the door shut behind us.

“I don’t think he saw us,” I whispered. “I think we’re okay.”

We turned away from the door and found ourselves in a long, dark hallway.
This must be an area used by the hotel workers, I thought. The floor had no
carpet. The walls were dirty, stained, and unpainted.

We turned a corner. I held out a hand to stop Eddie.

We listened hard for footsteps. Had the taxi driver seen us duck out? Was he
coming after us?

I couldn’t hear a thing over the pounding of my heart. “What a horrible day!”
I wailed.

And then the day turned even more horrible.

The man in the black cape stepped out from around the corner. “Did you really
think I wouldn’t follow you?” he asked. “Did you really think you could escape
from me?”

He moved forward quickly, his face hidden in the shadows.

Eddie and I were trapped, our backs pressed against the curtained, glass
door.

As the caped man drew near, his features came into view. His eyes were dark
and cold. His mouth was locked in a menacing snarl.

He raised his palm to Eddie. “Give them back,” he demanded.

Eddie’s eyes bulged in surprise. “Huh? Give
what
back?” he cried.

The caped man kept his palm in front of Eddie’s face. “Give them back—now!”
he bellowed. “Do not play games with me.”

Eddie’s expression slowly changed. He glanced at me, then turned back to the
caped man. “If I give them back, will you let us go?”

I was totally confused.
Give what back?
What was Eddie talking about?

The caped man uttered a short, dry laugh. It sounded more like a cough. “Do you dare to bargain with me?” he asked my
brother.

“Eddie—what is he
talking
about?” I cried.

But Eddie didn’t reply. He kept his eyes locked on the shadowy face of the
caped man. “If I give them back, will you let us go?”

“Hand them back—now,” the big man replied sharply, leaning menacingly over
Eddie.

Eddie sighed. He reached into his pants pocket. And to my shock, he pulled
out the three smooth, white stones.

My brother the pickpocket had struck again. “Eddie—when did you take
those?” I demanded.

“In the sewer,” Eddie replied. “When he grabbed me.”

“But, why?” I asked.

Eddie shrugged. “I don’t know. They seemed important to him. So I thought—”

“They
are
important!” the caped man bellowed. He grabbed the stones
from Eddie’s hand.

“Now will you let us go?” Eddie cried.

“Yes. We will go now,” the man replied, concentrating on the stones.

“That’s
not
what I said!” Eddie exclaimed. “Will you let us go?”

The man ignored him. He piled the stones one on top of the other in his palm.
Then he chanted some words, words in a foreign language that I didn’t recognize.

As soon as he chanted the words, the hallway began to shimmer. The doors began to wiggle and bend, as if made of rubber.
The floor buckled and swayed.

The caped man began to shimmer and bend, too.

The hallway throbbed with a blinding, white light.

I felt a sharp stab of pain—as if I had been hit hard in the stomach.

I couldn’t breathe.

Everything went black.

Flickering orange light broke the darkness.

I opened my eyes. Blinked several times. Took a deep breath.

The caped man was gone.

“Eddie—are you okay?” I asked in a quivering voice.

“I—I think so,” he stammered.

I gazed down the long hall, startled to find it lit by flickering candles. A
candle was perched in a holder beside each door.

“Sue, how did we get in this hallway?” Eddie asked softly. “Where is the
caped man?”

“I don’t know,” I replied. “I’m as confused as you are.”

We stepped into the flickering light. “This has to be the old section of the
hotel,” I guessed. “They must want it to look old-fashioned.”

We walked past door after door. The long, narrow hallway was silent except
for the thud of our shoes on the hardwood floor. The doors were all closed. No other people in
sight.

The flickering candlelight, the dark doorways, the eerie silence—all gave
me a cold, tingly feeling. My entire body trembled.

We kept walking through the dim, orangey light.

“I—I want to go back to the room,” Eddie stammered as we turned another
corner. “Maybe Mom and Dad have come back. Maybe they’re waiting for us up
there.”

“Maybe,” I replied doubtfully.

We entered another silent hallway, glowing eerily in darting, dancing
candlelight. “There’s got to be an elevator down here somewhere,” I muttered.

But we passed only dark, closed doors.

Turning another corner, we nearly bumped into a group of people.

“Ohh!” I cried out, so startled to find others in these long, empty hallways.

I stared at them as they passed. They wore long robes, and their faces were
hidden under dark hoods. I couldn’t tell if they were men or women.

They moved silently, making no sound at all. They paid no attention to Eddie
or me.

“Uh… can you tell us where the elevator is?” Eddie called after them.

They didn’t turn back, didn’t reply.

“Sirs?” Eddie called, chasing after them. “Please! Have you seen the
elevator?”

One of them turned back toward Eddie. The others continued moving silently
down the hallway, their long robes swishing softly.

I stepped up beside my brother and the robed figure. I could see the face
under the hood. An old man with bushy white eyebrows.

He peered out at Eddie, then at me. His eyes were dark and wet. His
expression was sorrowful.

“I smell evil around you,” he croaked in a dry whisper.

“What?” I cried. “My brother and I—”

“Do not leave the abbey,” the old man instructed. “I smell evil around you.
Your time is near. So near. So very near…”

“What abbey?” I demanded. “Why are you saying that?”

The old man didn’t reply. The candlelight glowed in his watery eyes. He
nodded his head solemnly under the heavy hood. Then he turned away from us and
glided silently after the others, the hem of his robe sweeping along the bare
floor.

“What did he mean?” Eddie demanded when the hooded man had vanished around a
corner. “Why did he try to frighten us?”

I shook my head. “It had to be some kind of a joke,” I replied. “They’re
probably on their way to a party or something.”

Eddie frowned thoughtfully. “They were creepy, Sue. They didn’t look like
they were in a party mood to me.”

I sighed. “Let’s find the elevator and get up to the room. I don’t like this
old part of the hotel. It’s just too dark and scary.”

“Hey, I’m the one who gets scared,” Eddie said, following me down the hall. “You’re supposed to be the brave one—remember?”

We wandered down one long, candlelit hallway after another, feeling more and
more lost. We couldn’t find an elevator or stairs or any kind of exit.

“Are we going to walk forever?” Eddie whined. “There
has
to be a way
out of here—doesn’t there?”

“Let’s go back,” I suggested. “The taxi driver is probably gone by now. Let’s
go back the way we came, and go out through the restaurant.”

Eddie pushed his dark hair back off his forehead. “Good idea,” he muttered.

We turned and started the long walk back. It was easy to keep in the right
direction. We followed the hallways and made left turns instead of rights.

We walked quickly without speaking.

As we walked, I tried to remember our last name. Tried to remember Mom and
Dad. Tried to picture their faces.

Tried to remember
something
about them.

Losing your memory is so terrifying. Much more frightening than being chased
by someone.

That’s because the problem is inside you. Inside your own mind.

You can’t run away from it. You can’t hide from it. And you can’t solve it.

You just feel so helpless.

My only hope was that Mom and Dad would be waiting in the room. And that they
could explain to Eddie and me what had happened to our memories.

“Oh, no!” Eddie cried, startling me from my thoughts.

We had reached the end of the final hallway. The hotel restaurant should be
on the other side of the curtained glass door.

But there was no door.

No door back to the restaurant. No door at all.

Eddie and I were staring at a solid wall.

“No!” Eddie wailed. “Let us out! Let us out of here!” He pounded furiously on
the wall with his fist.

I tugged him away. “This must be the wrong hallway,” I told him. “We made a
wrong turn.”

“No!” he protested. “It’s the right hallway! I know it is!”

“Then where is the restaurant?” I replied. “They didn’t seal it up while we
were walking the halls just now.”

He stared up at me, his chin trembling, his dark eyes frightened. “Can’t we
go outside and walk around to the front?” he asked wearily.

“We could,” I replied thoughtfully. “If we could find a door that led to the
outside. But so far—”

I stopped when I heard voices.

I turned and saw a narrow hallway leading off to our right. The voices seemed
to be floating through this hall I hadn’t noticed before. Voices and laughter.

“That must be the restaurant down there,” I told Eddie. “See? We just had one
more turn to make. We’ll be out of here in a few seconds.”

His face brightened a little.

The voices and laughter grew louder as we made our way down the narrow
corridor. Bright yellow light shone out from an open doorway at the end.

As we stepped into the doorway, we both cried out in surprise.

This was not the hotel restaurant we had our tea in.

I grabbed Eddie’s arm as I stared in shock around the enormous room. Two
blazing fireplaces provided the only light. People in strange costumes sat on
low benches around long, wooden tables.

A whole deer or an elk was turning on a spit, roasting over a fire in the
center of the floor.

The tables were piled high with food—meats, whole cabbages, green
vegetables, fruits, whole potatoes, and foods I didn’t recognize.

I didn’t see any plates or serving platters. The food was just strewn over
the long tables. People reached in and pulled out what they wanted.

They ate noisily, talking loudly, laughing and singing, taking long drinks
from metal wine cups, slapping the cups on the tabletop and toasting each other
merrily.

“They’re all eating with their
hands
!” Eddie exclaimed.