Sanctum (20 page)

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Authors: Madeleine Roux

Tags: #Teen Paranormal

BOOK: Sanctum
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Dan blew on the book softly, watching a veil of dust lift and shimmer in the air. The inside cover of the journal was worn but he could clearly read in huge red letters:

DANNY CRAWFORD’S! PRIVATE!!!

Chapter 20

 

Today the carnival is here. Patrick says it is a circus but he is dumb and even if he is older than me and says he knows more he is wrong. It is not a circus. A circus has animals like lions and giraffes and this year the only animals at the carnival are a few birds and the raccoons that get into the bins.

Patrick and Bernard go on the rides all day. Mom is too busy with the baby to notice that they steal coins from the saving jar under the sink to go again and again. They saw me when they took the coins and made me promise not to tell. I promised. They put a dirty sock in my mouth and held me under the bed anyway. I did not tell. I did not tell but I want to.

The rides are stupid. The only Good thing is the man in the hat. He did not make fun of my sweater even if it has holes and he said I was a very smart boy, smarter than my dumb brothers. He was Very Nice. There is a watch inside his coat and when he uses it he can make a woman flap like a chicken or a shy boy sing nursery songs. He said he would teach me how and show me his secrets.

I listened, I didn’t forget a single word. I hope now I can make other people Do things too. Patrick and Bernard will have to shut up and listen to me now. They will have to do what I say.

There is a red rock on the back of his watch. It looks like a shooting star when he swings it. A bright burning star.

I hope the carnival never leaves.

But even if it leaves, I will still have the secrets. The secrets will never leave.

D
an flipped to the next page, his heavy breathing ruffling the pages. Young Daniel Crawford had dated the entry not long after the first, and it began,
Today I took the swinging rock and tried to make Patrick cluck like a chicken. Tomorrow I will make him go up on the roof
. Patrick? Who was Patrick?

“Hey, find anything up here?”

Micah. His timing seriously couldn’t be worse. Dan cringed, nudging the striped box back into the hiding place and slipping the journal inside his coat. He turned and smiled thinly up at Micah.

“Just some old junk. Must be where the kids slept,” Dan said, standing and kicking the trapdoor shut. He couldn’t do anything to hide the misplaced rug or the paintings on the floor, so he made no attempt to cover them up. “What’d you guys find downstairs?”

“Lots of packed boxes. Empty frames. I wouldn’t wanna live here either, can’t blame them for wanting to leave.” He cast his eyes around the room and shivered. His eyes looked glassy, almost empty. Dan chalked it up to a trick of the dim light. “Kids lived in here? What the hell?”

“Creepy, right?” Dan nudged by him, ducking out under the door and into the hall. “Might as well have raised them in a broom closet.”

“I didn’t see any trace of that missing girl,” Micah said, following him to the stairs. “Are you sure this is the right house?”

“They probably left town after she disappeared,” Dan replied. “I can understand why they might want to move on.”

“Really? I think they’d stay. I mean, what if she came back? If they were gone . . . Hell, that’d be so sad.”

Dan didn’t want to discuss it or quibble. He had his hands on the warden’s childhood journal, a book that could give them all kinds of insight into the warden’s mind. Whatever had turned that man into a monster could very well be hidden in those pages, and Dan felt jittery, almost hyper now that answers seemed so close at hand.

I should have listened to them. Bringing Micah along was a mistake.

But what could he do now? They went back downstairs, where Abby and Jordan were waiting, and not patiently. Jordan’s eyes burned into his. He would show them the journal later, after he had a chance to look at it himself. Showing it around now, especially with Micah there, felt risky. He wanted badly to trust Micah, to think that they had another mind, another ally there on campus, but Dan wasn’t even sure he wanted to show his
friends
the journal.

It was private.

“We found the address for one other house,” Dan explained. “I doubt it’s far.”

“I need to lead the next round of tours,” Micah replied. He pushed back the sleeve on his coat to check a watch. “That’s in half an hour. I don’t mind covering for y’all for a few minutes, but the other volunteers will be pissed if I don’t come back.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want to get you in trouble with the other volunteers,” Abby said, and though she was smiling, Dan thought it was pretty plain she wanted him to leave.

“Well,” he said, smacking Dan lightly on the shoulder. “What’s thirty minutes more? They won’t mind. This is kinda fun and creepy. I’m hooked.”

“Oh.” It was Jordan, his eyes wide as he took out the Google map and handed it to Micah. “You . . . are?”

“Yeah! It’s Halloween, man, this is a thrill.” He leaned in close to them, closing his hand around the map and laughing, even adding a conspiratorial wink. “And I may have, you know, had a little something before the tour. Just to relax. Nothing too hard, just some recreational enhancement, eh?” He mimed puffing on a cigarette, though Dan assumed it was not plain old tobacco that had caused his easygoing mood.

Well
that
explained the glassy eyes.

“So . . . You’re not going to snitch on us for leaving campus?” Jordan asked slowly.

“Hell no. That’d land me in hot water, too. Nah, I’m along for the ride tonight. Where to?”

Dan breathed a little easier, though he couldn’t fully relax, not with the warden’s old journal hidden in his coat.

“There,” Abby said shortly, pointing out their next destination. She hopped from foot to foot. Dan felt the time crunch, too. “Do you know the way?”

“Piece of cake. Follow me.” Micah spun on his heel, taking the map and leading them through the house and back to the busted sliding door.

But Abby slowed her steps, tugging on Jordan’s and Dan’s sleeves, pulling them in close to her sides. “Doesn’t he seem just a little too eager?”

“He’s stoned,” Jordan whispered back. “He’d probably be excited to watch grass grow.”

“Guys, I know you don’t want him along but this is our out,” Dan added, keeping a close eye on Micah to make sure he didn’t overhear. “He can’t get us in trouble. Not now. We have leverage.”

“And who do you think the school would believe? A bunch of prospies or the admissions office golden boy?” she hissed.

Dan shrugged and quickened his pace. “There’s no time to second-guess. We’ll just have to take our chances.”

“Ticktock,” Micah called from the door. “They’ll do a head count back on campus in twenty-five minutes.” He was grinning, and for a second, Dan wished he could experience this trip the way Micah was experiencing it—like something fun and dangerous to do with your friends. But Dan didn’t have that luxury. With any luck, the journal pressed against his chest would help him close this chapter of his life—explain why he could see the things he saw, and maybe even help him stop seeing them for good.

And if Dan was
really
lucky, he might still have some friends on the other side of all this. If they could just forgive him for bringing Micah tonight.

“All right then,” Dan said. “What are we waiting for?”

Chapter 21

 

A
stiff wind chased them down Blake Street. Dan clutched his jacket and the journal closer to his body and shivered with the others outside a redbrick house with boarded windows and doors.

“Do you think it’s condemned?” Abby asked, hesitating on the edge of the lawn. “It might not be safe to go inside.”

“We have to,” Dan said. Now more than ever he felt convinced they were on the right track. Felix’s addresses had led them to Harry Cartwright’s house and then Warden Crawford’s childhood home. However Felix had come by those coordinates, they weren’t coincidences—they were a constellation that just wasn’t complete yet.

“Huh?” Micah turned around from where he was studying one of the boarded-up windows.

“Nothing . . . I said, um, we don’t have to.”

“How would we even get in?” Jordan led them around the lawn and driveway to a side door with a striped canvas overhang. They huddled around the door and Jordan kicked lamely at one of the boards holding it shut. “It’s going to take more than a lockpick to get through that.”

“Here,” Micah said, grabbing one of the two-by-fours nailed to the frame. “This one looks loose. If we can get it free, I might be able to pry the other boards off.”

It was then that Dan realized how screwed they would have been without Micah. None of the three of them was strong enough to pull the board loose or use it to pop off the other well-secured boards. They would have been stuck trying to climb in a window.

Dan communicated as much to Jordan and Abby with one raised eyebrow.

“Whatever,” Jordan muttered under his breath. “I’m not
that
impressed.”

“I would’ve found another way in,” Abby added.

“In those mittens?”

She didn’t respond.

Meanwhile, a few steps away, Micah was using the loose board as a kind of giant crowbar, wedging it into the gap between the doorframe and the boards and pulling them loose. The boards groaned and then splintered, a little shower of dust falling to the ground like snow.

“There!” Micah grunted. “Just one more . . .”

The last board came free with a crisp popping sound. Dan, Abby, and Jordan ducked and swiveled in unison.

“Damn, that was loud.” Micah stepped back from the door and dropped the two-by-four, scratching at the back of his neck sheepishly. “My bad.”

“And now we wait for the police sirens,” Jordan said.

Dan kicked the fallen wood closer to the house and nodded to the door. “Let’s get inside. Someone
will
spot us if we keep skulking outside the door like this.”

With a nervous glance around, Jordan slid up to the door. “Let’s just make this fast.” Even with the boards removed the door wasn’t going anywhere. Jordan knelt, fishing the lock-picking set out of his pocket and going to work. The knob turned suddenly a second later, rusted and loose. He stopped with his eyes closed, mouthing words Dan couldn’t make out.

“What are you doing?”

“Praying that some kids are dumb enough to egg a house or smash some pumpkins
right now
and take the heat off. . . .”

“I don’t even hear any dogs barking, and no lights came on,” Dan pointed out. “Come on.”

Jordan climbed quickly to his feet and shouldered open the door. By now, Dan was familiar with the smell of musty, deserted houses. The air hung heavy and sour from the mold and decaying wood.

“Do the lights still work?” Abby whispered from over his shoulder.

“It’s been boarded up and left to rot,” Jordan said. “I doubt anyone’s paying the electricity. Lucky us.”

Dan tried the nearest switch. Nothing happened. Why hadn’t they thought to bring a flashlight? He pulled out his phone and turned the light app on. They seemed to be standing in a butler’s pantry or mudroom, with shelves and cubbies built into the surrounding walls. A pair of grubby old white tennis shoes were mashed into one of the slots.

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