Dark Eden (7 page)

“We appreciate the food, Mrs. Goring. Pay no attention to these Neanderthals,” Kate said. She was perplexingly kind, a teacher’s pet attitude having overcome her.

“I’ll get Avery,” Marisa said. I couldn’t see her, either, until she reached the door to the girls’ quarters and I caught a glimpse of her through the six-inch opening in the door.

After that it was all banter at the breakfast table and Mrs. Goring telling them to make their beds and flush the toilets. Marisa returned with Avery in tow and joined the group, all of them sitting around the table.

“How’d it go with the doc?” Kate asked. It was mildly insensitive, but coming from Kate, par for the course.

“Fine.”

“I feel sorry for her,” Ben said. “Up all hours talking to us. It’s kind of amazing what she’s doing. It’s like twenty-four hours on call.”

I had to agree. However Dr. Stevens was being piped into Fort Eden, she probably wasn’t getting a lot of sleep. I could imagine her in her office back home, webcam at the ready. They must have the place hardwired to an underground connection somewhere, because there sure wasn’t a signal hanging around in the air.

“Where’s Rainsford? When will we see him again?” asked Ben. “I’d like to thank him.”

“I bet you would,” said Mrs. Goring. She was somewhere across the room, pulling open curtains. “He’s got a lot of work to do, so don’t bother him.”

“What kind of work?” asked Ben.

“The kind that fixes messed-up kids like you; what other kind is there?”

Wow, Mrs. Goring was in a real mood this morning. I was halfway glad I didn’t have to deal with her, although the pancakes smelled amazing and I wished for a tall stack, covered in peanut butter and syrup.

There was a loud clang and I jumped back, thinking for a brief second that someone was hitting the door I stood next to. But it was someone outside trying to get in.

“Who in blazes is that?” said Mrs. Goring. I heard her stomping across the room in her boots while everyone else went silent. The door clanged again, as if it was being hit with a hammer.

“Whoever you are, if you’re kicking that door with the toe of your boot, I’ll have your hide!” she yelled.

A few people laughed softly, but a silent curiosity had overtaken the group inside the fort. When the door flew open, the quiet was broken by the sound of a voice I hadn’t heard before.

“Hello, Mrs. Goring. I smelled the pancakes.”

“Like hell you did.”

Whoever it was laughed—a nice laugh, come to think of it—and entered the fort.

“It’s been a long time, Davis. I trust you’re feeling well.”

“Oh yes, very well.”

Who the heck was Davis?

“It won’t last if I have anything to say about it.” Mrs. Goring was being incredibly rude, but that was her way; and whoever this Davis character was, he didn’t seem to mind.

“This must be them,” he said, entering the room as the door was closed.

“Well of course it’s them. Didn’t you learn anything when you were here?”

“Oh, I learned plenty, Mrs. Goring.”

A stillness, then he spoke again.

“If it’s okay, I’ll join you. I’m Davis.”

He sat, or so it seemed, and greetings were exchanged as they ate. Whoever he was, the girls seemed particularly nervous about his arrival.

“Rainsford called me, asked if I’d stay on for a few days and help Mrs. Goring fix the pump down at the pond. That old thing is always going out.”

I knew about the pond but hadn’t thought much of it until then.

“How do you know him?” asked Kate, an air of flirtation in her voice that I hadn’t even heard with Connor. This Davis guy, I thought, must be a real stud.

“Well, that’s the other reason I’m here. To encourage you.”

“How so?” Avery, the quiet one, had spoken to a total stranger.

“I’m a graduate of the program,” Davis said, then it sounded as if he’d stuffed a wad of pancakes in his mouth.

“No way,” Connor said, slapping his own knee or Davis’s back, I couldn’t tell which. “What were you afraid of?”

“Mrs. Goring.”

Everyone laughed, and this time I was pretty sure of what I heard: Mrs. Goring slapping Davis on the arm, and Davis laughing with everyone else.

I felt really lonely all of a sudden, as if I’d been left unpicked on the playground.

“I couldn’t stand the pond when I showed up here,” he said. “I hated it.”

“Because you’re afraid of fish?” Connor said, and got a laugh from Ben and Alex.

“I’ll take a hamburger over fish sticks any day, but I wasn’t afraid of fish. I was afraid of water. Couldn’t even drink the stuff. I know, weird, right?”

“Yeah, totally,” said Alex, but Avery came to Davis’s rescue.

“I don’t think it’s so strange. You’re afraid of dogs. What’s the difference?”

“A dog can kill you,” Alex said. He hadn’t liked being called out.

“Did you know that a person can drown in a teaspoon of water?” Davis asked.

“Really?” Kate said.

There was a pause; maybe Davis was wiping his mouth with a napkin.

“No, not really,” he said. “Before I came here though, I thought stuff like that was true. As far as I was concerned, the shower could kill me. I didn’t smell too good back then.”

“I find that hard to imagine,” said Kate.

“Yeah,” said Avery. The competition was on; even I could tell that much, and I couldn’t even see what this guy looked like.

“You must be Ben,” Davis again. “I can tell by your shirt. You earned it, man; wear it proudly.”

“Thanks. How old are you?” Ben Dugan asked. “When were you here?”

“Seventeen. I was here the same as you, when I was your age. You’re all fifteen, right?”

Nothing, so everyone must be nodding. A chair was pushed back, and someone moved away from the table.

“Thank you, Mrs. Goring. That was perfect.”

It was Marisa, finished with her breakfast.

“Sure it was,” Mrs. Goring replied sourly.

“So here’s the deal,” Davis went on. He’d gained their confidence, and mine, too. “Rainsford told me Ben was cured, and I’m here to tell you I’ve been cured, too. Later today, when the sun warms things up a bit, I’ll be diving in the pond searching for a busted pipe. I want you all to hear me now. This program works when nothing else does. I’ll be around this week. If you have questions, don’t hesitate to ask. I owe my life to this place, so it’s the least I can do.”

“I’m going as soon as he’ll let me,” Kate said. “I might want to talk about it.”

Yeah, I bet you would,
I thought.

I’d let myself get all comfortable behind the door, not paying nearly enough attention; and all at once someone was standing where I could see them through the crack in the door. The person was against the black curtain, pulling it open.

“What did I tell you about touching things you don’t need to be touching?” Mrs. Goring shouted. I looked down the side of the wall, and there was Marisa, staring back at me. As the curtain came open, she tossed a note through the crack in the door.

“Sorry, Mrs. Goring,” she said, walking toward her. “It’s just so nice to have some light in here.”

“That’s it; breakfast is over. Pile everything on the cart,” Mrs. Goring said.

“Way to go, Marisa,” Connor joked. I got the feeling he and the other boys were grabbing pancakes, stuffing them in their mouths, until Davis’s voice filled the room again.

“There’s one other thing,” he said, almost shyly, I thought. “One of you is missing. Rainsford would like me to find him. I know the woods pretty well.”

“Will Besting,” Marisa said, her voice betraying at least a little worry.

“Yeah, Will Besting,” said Davis. “If any of you hears anything, I’d appreciate it if you’d tell me. There’s nothing to worry about, no bears or wild animals around here. But he needs help, and this place can help him. I think if I could talk to him, he might come in on his own.”

Great. That’s all I needed. Some seventeen-year-old pretty boy trying to track me down.

I started for the bomb shelter, clutching Marisa’s note in my hand, hoping Davis wouldn’t search Mrs. Goring’s basement anytime soon.

I’ll visit Dr. Stevens when everyone is asleep. That’s how you’ll know. Come see me then, okay? Marisa.

The last time I’d gotten a note like Marisa’s was in the fourth grade. I even remember what it said.

Meet me downstairs by the water fountain after school. I have something for you. Jennifer

Jennifer never showed up, but Marisa would. She didn’t have anyplace else to go, and she’d be awake. I wasn’t a night owl like she was, and I definitely didn’t have insomnia. I slept just fine, and as often as possible. But my biggest worry wasn’t that I’d fall asleep; I was more concerned that the system would fail again. I’d miss her signal when the time came and stand her up, like Jennifer had stood me up at the water fountain.

Looks like someone’s got a date.
Keith’s voice rattled in my head, and I imagined him leaning against the doorjamb in my room wearing that goofy green baseball cap.
Don’t blow it.

Don’t worry, Keith, I won’t
, I thought. But I was nervous just the same, and reminded myself to read some of
The Pearl
so Marisa and I would have something to talk about. I turned off the monitor in case it was on a timer and only stayed on for so many hours a day. If that was true, how was I going to keep an eye on the room where Marisa would give me the signal? The whole situation was starting to stress me out big-time, so I reclined on the cot and started reading. I’d heard
The Pearl
on tape a long time ago, in my parent’s car, I think, but I couldn’t really remember it.

An hour later I’d turned the monitor back on and saw that the main room at Fort Eden was empty.

“Weird,” I said. “Where is everyone?”

I looked at my watch—nearly 11:00
AM
—then back at the monitor, cycling through the three rooms I had access to. The whole place felt deserted, until Mrs. Goring came into view. She was on the farthest end of the main room, walking into the girls’ quarters.

“What’s she doing in there?” I wondered. The door to the girls’ quarters closed, and she was gone. For a few seconds I thought nothing of it. She was in there changing the sheets or something. What else would she be doing in there? But then I had a hunch, a sort of cold feeling up the back of my neck, and I clicked the white
G
button, bringing up the room where the girls went to talk to Dr. Stevens.

The chair sat empty. The stencils of
2
,
5
, and
7
still there on the wall. I wasn’t prepared for Mrs. Goring to sit down, and even less prepared because of the way she did it: fast and close. She sat right up next to the monitor screen, creating a fish-eye effect in the lens. It was as if she didn’t understand how it worked, staring grotesquely into the monitor, her eyes darting back and forth, a fist of knuckles banging on the screen. And she was yelling. If I had to guess, I would have said she was yelling for Dr. Stevens to come out, as if Dr. Stevens lived in the monitor itself and needed to be woken up.

How old was Mrs. Goring, that she couldn’t grasp such things? Seventy-five? Eighty-five? Older still? Maybe she’d just lived in the woods too long, losing touch with reality.

Mrs. Goring settled back and began talking in short bursts. I’d have gladly given up my air hockey table and my Atari and my little brother, Keith, in exchange for audio. What was she saying, and why was she saying it? What possible reason could there be for Mrs. Goring to talk with Dr. Stevens?

I cycled back to the main room in Fort Eden, which remained empty. Everyone was gone, and it was starting to really bother me. Were they in the basement of the fort, having a round of shock therapy? I’m not sure what caused me to think what I thought next. It could have been that I was sick and tired of the oppressive silence of the basement. Or maybe I’d come to feel so alone and afraid that something deep inside finally snapped. Could have been that I wanted to see Marisa, even if I couldn’t talk to her. All I remember is that I had a thought that led me out the door of the bomb shelter.

If I could get into this basement once, I could do it again.

One last look at Mrs. Goring sitting in the room.

She’s there. I can make it.

I turned off the monitor and put on my backpack, and before I knew it I was up the long ramp to Fort Eden and standing in the main room. Still empty, but I could hear Mrs. Goring moving in the girls’ quarters, where the door stood slightly ajar Her hand would be on the door before I could get out. What would she do if she saw me standing there? She’d think I was crazy. Did she carry a pistol tucked in her jeans? The thoughts that crossed my mind of a bloody mess in Fort Eden had the effect of freezing me in place; and before I could get myself moving again, Mrs. Goring was pulling the door all the way open, about to walk back into the main room.

My only chance was the stairway leading down, the one on which Rainsford had appeared. A metal railing went around three sides, but I was on the open end—a small piece of good luck. I bolted, hit the first stair with my heel, and immediately had second thoughts. The stairs were narrow and stunningly steep; but worse than that, a thick smear of darkness obliterated all light after a few feet. I lost my footing and slid down four or five steps, my backpack bouncing as I searched for a railing. The way was turning rapidly—a spiral stone staircase—and, catching my foot on a step, I came to a bone-rattling halt.

I lay faceup, staring into the murky light of Fort Eden. I looked down, and the descent felt alive and menacing, like the open mouth of a beast with teeth of bared stone.

What is this place?

One thing was clear: the basement to Fort Eden was deep in the ground. How deep, I had no idea. Hidden where I was, it wasn’t hard to imagine how the winding stairs, steep and crumbling with age, might go on forever.

Mrs. Goring’s boots banged on the floor until she got to the opening below which I was hidden, and then she stopped.