The Vivisectionist (40 page)

A few seconds later the noise startled them again, and the bars dropped another inch.

“We better get going,” said Jack. “Unless you want to be stuck here.” He hastily pulled together his stuff and jammed some of the loose items back into his pack. The ceiling was low, and the bars lower, so he slid on his butt through the hole in the wall, past the descending gate.

“C’mon,” he called back to Stephen.

“This seems really stupid,” said Stephen as he shuffled after Jack. “Hey, hand me that putter.”

Jack handed back his dad’s putter, with the squeaking rat still attached. Stephen peeled the rat and the tape of the end and then wedged the putter between the floor and the descending bars. It was too long, so he had to prop it at an angle. The next time the bars descended an inch, they easily dislodged the putter and it clattered to the floor.

“Oh well—worth a shot,” said Stephen. He grabbed the club and they crawled on.

They followed the passage around two corners when Stephen suddenly got nervous—“Hey, how are we going to get out of here? And how do you know there aren’t any traps?”

“I don’t think there will be traps here. We got past the boss part, and it’s usually pretty trap-free after that,” said Jack.

“So you think this is a new level?” asked Stephen.

“Don’t you?” asked Jack.

“Yeah, which leads me back to my first question: got any ideas on how we’re going to get out of here?”

“I’m sure we’ll find something,” said Jack. “There’s a light up ahead.”

Stephen saw it too—ahead, the passage turned right and he saw the corner silhouetted. He felt naked without his backpack. When he reached the corner, Jack paused and furrowed his brow.

“What’s up?” asked Stephen.

Instead of replying, Jack turned the corner and moved out of view. The passage was barely tall enough to crawl through. When he reached the corner, Stephen saw that the plain plywood confines of the passage were colored up ahead. The walls were painted blue, and the floor was black with three parallel white lines drawn the length of the passage. Every few feet the lines were broken by arrows, pointing in the same direction they crawled.

Stephen followed silently. Just past Jack, he could see the source of the light—the passage opened up into the top-side of a drop ceiling. There was an intersection, with passages heading off to the right and left. The white lines painted on the floor split: the center one pointed ahead towards the top of the ceiling and the other two broke off left and right, down the side passages. Light leaked out from various holes and slits in the metal of the fixtures. Compared to their flashlights, it was a wealth of light.

“We’re just above the white room,” said Jack.

“Oh, wow,” said Stephen. “You think?”

“Yeah,” said Jack. “For sure. And that means that this way must go towards the back of the hotel. You know, where we come in?” Jack was pointing down the passage that split off to the left.

“If you say so,” replied Stephen. “I have no sense of direction about this place now.”

“C’mon,” said Jack. “I’ll show you.”

Stephen wondered at Jack’s confidence about navigating these tight confines. As Jack crawled away from the light and down a dark passage, he stowed his concern and followed. They took a left down a long stretch. The series of white arrows painted on the floor continued, but here the walls were painted green. Stephen hadn’t noticed when the color changed.

Finally, Jack announced they were at the end, but Stephen could barely see anything past Jack—the passage was narrow and Jack blocked his view.

“Back up a little,” said Jack.

Stephen heard a creaking sound and then Jack crawled out of the passage and stepped down. Once Jack got out of the way, Stephen saw that Jack was hanging from their rope ladder.

“We’re back at the beginning?” asked Stephen. 

“Yup—it’s like we wanted,” said Jack, smiling. “This is like a ‘save game,’ we can go right from the beginning to the white room, or continue on.”

“I didn’t see a way down into the white room—did you?”

“Well, it’s right there,” said Jack. “There’s probably a way. Anyway, I bet the other passage is the one that leads to the next level. So now we can get back to that one right away.”

“Maybe we should take off then,” said Stephen. “Pick this up in the morning?”

“Let’s just go a bit further,” said Jack. “That way if we find out there’s something we need, we can bring it next time.”

“Okay,” said Stephen. “Maybe we’ll find a way to get my pack.”

“Maybe,” said Jack.

Stephen backed away and tried to turn around. The passage was too small for him to turn, so he had to back up until he got to the last turn. Jack crawled towards him the whole time, so they were face-to-face in the gloom of their flashlights. Stephen became uncomfortable looking into Jack’s determined eyes, so he focused on the retreating arrows below him as he backed down the long passage.

When they got back to the intersection, Stephen moved off to the right to allow Jack to go first. Jack headed down the narrow space with the zeal of a kid on Christmas morning. They made several more turns.

“There’s a ladder,” said Jack. “I’m going down.”

As Jack moved out of the way, Stephen saw that the ladder went both up and down from their passage. Jack’s upper-body disappeared when his feet reached the ladder. He climbed down. At his turn, Stephen saw that the ladder only went up for a few feet, but went down quite a ways. Jack had descended almost out of sight by the time Stephen began to climb down.

The passage opened up as they climbed down. Stephen had his flashlight in his mouth, so he turned his head back and forth to discover that the ladder was now hanging from the ceiling in a rather large room. His right foot dropped and found no more rungs, so he pushed away from the ladder to look down. He saw Jack’s face, about at his knee-level.

“You can climb down a little more and then you can just drop,” said Jack.

It was unnerving, dropping into the darkness, but Stephen followed Jack’s instructions. They looked around the big room. The ladder hung above the center of a square room at least thirty feet wide and long. The only good way to make out the black ceiling was to follow the ladder up. It was way up.

“Damn, this is different,” said Stephen. His voice rang a bit in the big room.

“I think this is the center of the place,” said Jack.

Stephen pointed his light at Jack’s face. Something about Jack’s tone had sounded almost reverent whereas before he had only sounded curious. “You really like this place, don’t you?” he asked.

“It’s like being in a puzzle,” said Jack. “I get to figure the whole thing out.”

“Yeah, okay,” said Stephen. He walked over to one of the walls—something was painted on the wall, but he couldn’t figure it out. Walking slowly and stepping lightly, Stephen followed the wall to the right. He looked at all the red and black lines that wove up the wall. He found a paneled door a few feet ahead and a light switch.

“There’s a switch here,” said Stephen. “Should I flip it?”

“Let me look,” said Jack. He approached and brushed past Stephen to see the door and the switch. He flipped his flashlight around and used the butt of the light to flip the switch. Stephen jumped—surprised by Jack’s quick action.

Overhead, dim red lights came on slowly. They looked up and saw that recessed in the black ceiling were dozens of small red lights that cast red circles on the floor in a regular grid.

“This must have taken years,” said Jack.

Stephen followed Jack's gaze to the walls. Lines flowed around, up, and down; at first Stephen thought they just wound randomly around the room. Looking at the whole wall he could see there was something more here. He took a step back and it started to come into focus. He was looking into a giant eye. He turned quickly to his left and saw there another eye staring at him. It was as if he was inches from a giant, carnivorous animal. But the eyes weren’t looking at him. The way they were painted they focused on something farther away.

Stephen felt a chill up the back of his neck and he spun around. More eyes. Diagonally across the room another face was painted on the opposite wall. These were different though—smaller and perhaps younger. Stephen realized that the pattern didn’t end with the bottom of the wall. The painting was enhanced by the spots of light on the floor and somehow the effect formed a whole face that seemed to float, independent of the walls and ceiling.

“Jesus, that’s fucking creepy,” said Stephen.

“It’s amazing,” said Jack. He trotted over and stood at the ladder again. “Come over here.” Jack ordered. “You can see it all from the center here.”

Stephen joined Jack and they took in the full mural. The effect was startling, two faces painted into the corners and yet the perspective was so perfect that the faces seemed to transcend the walls. Between them, in the other corners there wasn’t much light, but Stephen could make out flames and small people who looked to be dancing. The door and light switch that Stephen had found were also in one of these corners.

“Let’s see where that door goes,” said Stephen. He was anxious to get out of this room.

“It might not be so easy,” said Jack. “There’s probably a challenge associated with it.”

“That’s what we’re all about,” said Stephen. “Let’s do it.”

“Nah, I think you’re right, maybe we should head back for the night,” said Jack. “It must be getting early.”

“Yeah, okay,” said Stephen. “Oh, what about my pack?”

“I think we’re going to have to get that next time,” said Jack.

Stephen looked at the ladder. He wondered how to climb it—it didn’t start until his chest. He thought about it for a second and then jumped up to grab the highest rung he could reach. Next, he tried to pull himself up to grab the next rung. He managed to grasp it with his right hand, but he couldn't pull himself up more. Instead he bent his knees and raised his legs up to wrap them around the ladder. He felt his heel hit the back of the ladder and he pushed himself up to the next rung. At the top, he had to turn around to get his torso into the plywood passage.

Before sliding all the way in, he looked down. Jack still stood there, next to the ladder, admiring the artwork.

“Hey,” said Stephen. “You coming?”

“Yeah,” Jack replied. “I’ll be right there.”

Stephen waited a few more moments, but Jack hadn’t moved. “Today?” he said.

Jack looked up—“I said I’ll be right there.”

**********

“C’mon, wake up.”

Stephen woke to Jack shaking him.

“Get up,” said Jack.

“Jeez, what time is it?” Stephen looked at the clock on the nightstand. “What’s wrong—it’s only seven-thirty. That’s like three hours sleep.”

“We can’t skip breakfast and act all tired,” said Jack. “My mom will get suspicious.”

Stephen wondered how suspicious she would be if she could see Jack right now. His face looked haunted by a much older Jack—the rings under his eyes, and fierce, determined stare were a far cry from Jack two weeks ago. To avoid an argument, Stephen decided to acquiesce and threw off his covers.

“Okay,” said Stephen. “Let me go brush my teeth.” He walked over to the dresser and rubbed his eyes. With one eye half open, he reached and opened the wrong drawer—the drawer that Ben had been using.

“Hey,” said Stephen, “You talk to Ben yet?” he turned and Jack had left the room. He thought of how different everything had been when Ben was around; he really missed Ben. Ten more days and he would be going home too. Stephen grabbed his toiletries from his drawer and headed off to the bathroom.

**********

In the kitchen, Jack’s mom was making a large quantity of pancakes and Jack sat at the table.

“Good morning Stephen—sleep well?” Jack’s mom asked.

“Yes, thank you Ms. Randolph,” said Stephen.

“Hey Jack,” Stephen sat at the kitchen table, across from Jack, “have you gotten a call from Ben yet?”

“Nah,” said Jack, “he must have gone somewhere with his mom.”