Instinct (37 page)

“You said the name of the game warden was Rick,” the voice said. Brad thought he heard a laugh at the end of the statement.

“No! Rick was the forest ranger we found in Vermont,” Brad said.

“You said you never learned the name of the corpse in Vermont. And you said that you didn’t know if he was a ranger, or if he just stumbled onto the ranger station, much like yourself.”

“No!” Brad said, but something about the accusation rang true. Hadn’t Robby said that the ranger never signed his diary? Where had he gotten the name Rick? Had his brain simply assigned the name because of Ranger Rick, the magazine from his childhood?

“Why are you lying to us, Brad?”

Was he lying? He was troubled to discover that he couldn’t remember.

“Listen. Listen. I’ll tell you everything. I was walking out behind my house in the summer—I think it was last summer—when I discovered these vines. They…”

The light went dark as the door slammed shut.

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This time when the door opened and the light appeared, Brad was at the top stair. They didn’t warn him back, like they’d done before. They let him stay up near the light, and he was thankful. He would do anything to stay in the warm glow of the light, and he told them so. Unfortunately, all that came out of his mouth was mumbled nonsense.

“Tell us again, from the beginning,” the voice said. This voice was much softer and more kind. It was almost sympathetic.

Brad told them everything.

CHAPTER 25: FARM

T
HE
FOUR
OF
THEM
packed into the little grain shed. Robby wouldn’t let them use their flashlights. There were too many ways for the light to escape the tiny building, and they’d been lucky to get in there without being spotted. They stood there, listening to their own panting breaths as Robby knelt.

“Describe what you saw,” Robby said.

“There was half of a white footprint going under the left bin,” Lisa said.

They heard Robby shuffling and running his hands along the wood. A second later, they heard the catch click and a creak as the bin swung up and out of the way.

“Won’t they have guards posted?” Romie asked.

“Maybe. But it would have to be someone we’ve never seen before. I walked around at sunset and everyone was accounted for except for the guy they call Hampton,” Robby said.

The metal hatch made a sound like uncapping a soda as Robby opened it.

A light from below showed them the ladder that descended into the ground.

“Let me go first,” Pete said.

“Our hero,” Romie said, mocking him.

Robby went last. He pulled the hatch shut behind him and found the lever to return to the bin to its normal position.

When Robby reached the bottom of the ladder, the others had added their flashlights to the dim bulb that lit up the space.

“I found a door,” Pete said.
 

Romie was investigating the dark control panel and the moldy chair. Lisa stood with her arms crossed. She was looking back towards the ladder.

Robby followed Pete through the door. They found stairs going down. Those ended at a giant metal door. It was open wide enough that they could fit through the gap. Pete led the way with his flashlight and a length of pipe that he’d brought as a club. They moved into a big room.

“How do we find him?” Lisa asked.

“I suggest that two of us stay here in case Hampton tries to escape. The other two can search the place. If we find Hampton, we force him to take us to Brad. If we find Brad, we go.”

“Yeah?” Romie asked.

Robby shrugged. He moved into the adjacent room while Pete, Lisa, and Romie debated who would guard the exit. Robby swept his light around the little room. He found a switch on the wall and toggled it up and down—It didn’t do anything. The room was lined with desks and had cork boards on rolling stands. Robby used his light to examine the pictures and articles pinned there.

Romie appeared in the door. “Let’s go, Robby. We’ve been elected as the search team.”

“I need a minute in here,” he said.

“No. Come on.”

“It will only take a minute, I swear.” He moved to the next set of articles, trying to tune Romie out. He blinked, trying to take them all in. He couldn’t memorize everything, but he could at least get a sense of what was there.

“This thing was your idea,” she said, moving closer to him.

Robby slid around to the other side. He was trying to just skim, so he could take it all in, but there was fascinating information in the article about binaural beats. The researcher suggested that an audio signal could align a person’s neurons to fire in sequence, establishing a pathway to facilitate recognition of…

“Come on!” Romie said, pulling his arm. “This room contains no doors, no Brad, and no Hampton. Let’s move on.”

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The big room where Lisa and Pete were stationed was the central hub of the network. Doors led off into smaller warrens. Some contained bunks. Some had racks of equipment. A lot of the rooms were empty, but scuff-marks on the floors spoke of heavy things that had been stored and moved by many hands. Rooms led to rooms. Romie lost track of where they’d been, but Robby employed a system with a piece of chalk he found. He put a tiny mark on the door frame after they inspected a room.

Romie was inclined to check everywhere, but Robby stopped her several times. He pointed out the dust on a door handle, or a spiderweb that joined a door to its frame. Some of the passages hadn’t been used in years, and didn’t warrant the time it would take to inspect them.

Romie shouldered her way through one door and they saw a long hall.
 

Robby pointed his light towards the ceiling before going through the door. He saw the red and white exit sign and then joined his light with Romie’s to point down the hall. It was long. They could just see a door at the far end.

Their pace slowed as they walked down the long hall. Their footsteps echoed. Robby spun around to see if they were being followed. It was an absurd notion. The only thing behind them was the big room with Lisa and Pete, and they would have heard the door open if someone had joined them in the hall.

When Robby turned back around, Romie stopped. Her light was trained on the center of the door and her hand was shaking, making the beam bob slightly.

“What?” Robby asked.

She looked at him with wide eyes. “Don’t you feel it?”

Robby did feel it. There was a weight in the center of his chest, making it difficult to breathe. He imagined that it would feel the same if you tried to breathe through a garden hose at the bottom of a swimming pool. The water pressure would try to keep you from sucking in air through that little passage.
 

The door in front of them looked the same as the other doors in the place, but the latch was different. The latch was thicker, and tougher looking. And there was a bulge in the bottom panel of the door, like something behind it had been desperate to get out and had taken out its frustration on the metal.

Robby moved by Romie and approached the door. She put out a hand and grabbed his shoulder. Robby barely swallowed back a scream at the contact.

“Don’t open it,” Romie whispered. “There’s something terrible behind there.”

As if to prove her right, they heard a noise from behind the door. It was a thump followed by a slow scrape. Romie’s grip tightened on Robby’s shoulder. Her fingers dug into his flesh. Her pressure stayed constant as Robby raised his own hand to the door. He closed his fingers around the thick latch and he felt the vibration as the scraping sound continued.
 

“Don’t,” she whispered.
 

Robby pushed down on the latch. It screeched as it turned. When it reached the bottom of its travel, a serious THUNK rang out when some mechanism clanked into place. Robby pulled.

The door was heavy. Once it got moving, it kept swinging on its own. Robby let go of the handle and he and Romie backed up as their lights penetrated the darkness on the other side. They saw a landing and then metal stairs that spiraled down into the black. Whatever had rubbed against the door a second before was nowhere to be seen.

Romie’s hand was still clamped to Robby’s shoulder. He tried to move forward, but she held him back. He ducked out from under her grip and slipped forward, angling his light down the stairs. The landing and treads were made of vertical fins of metal, wide enough apart that fingers might slip through from underneath. Robby placed his foot on the landing carefully, waiting for the fingers.
 

He saw something down there move away from his light.

Robby moved farther in. If Romie were to swing the door shut, he would be locked in this little silo. Water dripped and hit some kind of pool below. Robby heard something splash in the water. It sounded like a fish breaching the surface as it jumped after a bug.

“Come back,” Romie said, in a hoarse whisper.

Robby inched closer to the spiraling stairs.

A voice croaked from out of the darkness.

“Romie?”

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Robby backed up at the sound of the voice and then ran forward again when his brain processed it. It was Brad’s voice. Even knowing the man was down there in the dark, Robby couldn’t find the courage to go down the stairs. Romie stayed back at the door. She kept one hand against the metal frame. It was her lifeline.

“Brad? Come up here. We’ll get you out of here,” Robby said.

“Robby?” Brad asked. He sobbed somewhere down in the dark.

“Come up. We know the way out,” Robby said.

“It’s terrible down here, Robby,” Brad said. He sounded terrified.

Robby put out his hand. He struggled to keep it still as Brad’s hand reached out of the darkness towards him. As Brad got closer, Robby finally saw his face. His eyes were rimmed in red, puffy flesh. His lips were cracked and bleeding. He seemed too weak to pull himself up the stairs. Robby gripped the railing as if his life depended on it and took a step down. He stretched the flashlight down, and Brad shrank back.

“Come up,” Robby said.
 

“Too bright,” Brad whispered. Robby turned out his light.
 

Robby’s shadow blocked most of Romie’s light from the doorway. He held his position. He didn’t see Brad until he felt the hand clamp down around his wrist. For the second time in a few short minutes, Robby almost screamed.

He pulled back against Brad’s tug. It felt like his friend wanted to pull Robby down into the darkness, instead of pull himself towards the light. Fortunately, Brad was weak, and Robby could compel him up the stairs with gentle pressure.

Romie emitted a startled cry when she saw Brad. He held up an arm to protect his eyes from the flashlight. She turned the flashlight away from his face.

As soon as Robby pulled the man across the threshold, Romie slammed the door shut and lifted the handle. They heard the mechanism THUNK back into place. Brad tried to shrink to the floor of the hall.

“No, no,” Robby said. “Let’s keep moving.”

He and Romie took opposite shoulders. They lifted Brad and helped him down the long hall. He stunk of fear—a mixture of sweat and urine. He swayed from side to side as he walked.

Brad spun in their hands and looked back at the closed door. He whimpered and went limp.

“Come on, Brad,” Robby said.

“Don’t you hear it? It’s coming,” Brad said.

“I don’t hear anything,” Romie said. “Now, come on.”

They practically dragged him back to the big room.

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“Straight up and out,” Pete said. “We get him some rest, and maybe some first aid in the morning.”

“Once they know we have him, they’ll take us all,” Romie said. “We’ll all be locked up down here.” She stood with her back to the door. They had closed themselves in the room with the desks and cork boards so they could figure out their strategy.
 

“What did they do to you?” Lisa asked Brad. She was crouched in front of him, holding his hand. Brad didn’t answer. He stared straight forward and didn’t say a word.

Robby was back at the cork board, studying the information and pictures.

“Every second we stay down here, we risk that they’ll come down and lock us in. At least if we go topside, we can be seen by everyone. There are a hundred regular people up there, and only a few dozen Beardos. If we make our case to the regulars, they won’t be able to take us all.”

“What makes you think the regular people will be on our side?” Romie said. “We’re newcomers. They’ll say Brad is a threat somehow, and then they’ll lock us all up.”

“Let’s vote,” Pete said. “Who’s for getting the hell out of this dungeon?”