The Vivisectionist (28 page)

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Authors: Ike Hamill

Tags: #Horror

BOOK: The Vivisectionist
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“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.

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