Paul called Kevin on his way to the gas station and asked him to meet them there.
Kevin didn’t seem to like the idea of giving up his phone for the afternoon, but he agreed to do it.
Eric went over the places he’d been in his head. The apartment, the overgrown lot, the asylum and the store. He’d seen Aiden at two of them, Pink shirt at two of them and those strange black creatures at two of them, but none at the same two. He found those strange symbols and a primitive viewing device pointing to the mysterious tower at three of those places and the thing that Paul hit with his truck and that queer golden fluid at only one.
So what were they going to find next?
Paul pulled into the gas station and parked. It was an ordinary Citgo station, as far as either of them could tell. It was fairly small and very dated, with just four pumps and a small store. There was no diesel pump. There was no car wash. It was as basic as gas stations came. Eric couldn’t imagine it being very profitable. There were two much larger stations just down the road.
Eric sat staring at the inconspicuous structure, wondering if there was some invisible secret attached to it.
“Gas station,” said Paul, looking over at him. “You visited a gas station last year, too.”
“I’ve been to a lot of gas stations in my life.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I do.”
“You think there’s a connection?”
Eric continued to stare through the windshield. He, too, had recalled the gas station. It was out in the middle of nowhere, on a little stretch of highway. He had no idea which highway. He never saw any signs. He stepped out of the woods and saw it there, aged and rundown, with an old, rusty, white limousine parked in the tall grass on one side.
He remembered being confused and overwhelmed. He’d begun to remember things from his forgotten dream, distressful things…
The gas station attendant was a little man, no bigger than a ten-year-old, though he was a full-grown man. But he had given off such an enormous presence. He was kind and gentle, and very wise. He gave him direction and he gave him courage and then he sent him on his way.
But Eric saw him again when his journey was done. The little man did him a favor. He took something away, something that was hurting him…
He couldn’t quite remember. It was all a little fuzzy.
“Eric?” Paul had asked him if he thought there was a connection between these two gas stations.
Eric unfastened his seatbelt and opened the door. “I couldn’t tell you,” he replied. “Maybe it’s just another gas station.”
The two of them stepped out into warm, June air that smelled of gasoline fumes and car exhaust and walked to the door.
“Maybe we should wait for Kevin,” Paul suggested as he pushed his phone into Eric’s hand.
Eric took the phone and pocketed it. His brother was right. It was best if he stayed in touch with Isabelle. They had no idea what might be waiting inside. “He’ll find us. Just stay cool. And I doubt they’ll have any in here, but if they do, please don’t molest any manikins.”
“Not funny.”
“No, it’s very funny. It’s just not funny to you.”
“You’re a shithead. You know that, right?”
The interior of the store was dark and cramped. It smelled like every other convenience store he’d ever been in, musty and bland, with just a faint undertone of greasy food.
There didn’t seem to be anywhere to hide. But Aiden entered this store six years ago and never left. How did he do it?
There had to be something in here.
“I’m going to grab a Coke,” said Paul. “You want one?”
“I’m not here for a treat,” replied Eric.
“I know. But who walks into a convenience store just to browse?”
That was a good point, actually. And he was thirsty, he realized. Hungry, too, now that he was thinking about it. It was well past lunch time. “Sure, grab me one. Maybe a snack, too. I’ll buy.”
“No, I got it.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Yes I do. Then you have to stop bringing up the fucking manikin.”
“Her name was Rose.”
“I don’t care what her name was! What its name was! Just...shut up about it.”
“Fine. I won’t say another word.”
“Thank you.”
“But I won’t be able to keep Karen quiet about it.”
Paul groaned. “Just…enough with the stupid manikin.”
“Fine.”
Paul stalked around the aisle and headed toward the soda cooler without another word.
Eric surveyed the store. How did Aiden do it? If it really was like the other places he’d found, it must still be here.
He tried to recall all that he’d heard. The story was that he was on camera entering through the door, which made sense, because the door would be one of the places being monitored. But then what? He looked over at the counter. There would be cameras aimed at the registers, too, of course. He couldn’t have gone that way. Even if he somehow avoided the cameras, he probably would have been spotted by the clerk. It must have been an inconspicuous area of the store, someplace that not a lot of cameras would be aimed, someplace he could duck into completely unnoticed.
That would likely be the back corner of the store, right where Paul had just gone.
He walked around the end of the aisle and examined the coolers. There was beer at this end. Gallons of milk separated the beer from the juice and beyond the juice were the energy drinks and finally the soda. Eric stopped in the middle of the aisle and considered it. If he was going to leave a gap in the camera coverage, he’d probably do it right there, where the milk was. After all, who would try to steal a gallon of milk? People might try to sneak a bottle or a can into their pockets, but they weren’t going to get very far with a whole jug.
Eric closed his eyes and rubbed at his temples.
There was nothing here. Was he thinking too hard about this? Was he trying to find logic where there was none? After all, why would an invisible doorway have to be in an inconspicuous place?
But the security footage must have been gone through carefully. It stood to reason that Aiden didn’t vanish into thin air on film. Something like that would have drawn even more attention.
He opened his eyes and walked on toward Paul. But he saw something from the corner of his eye and he stopped.
For just a moment there was something there, a shadowy space amid the cooler doors. But it was gone now. Had he only imagined it?
He turned and walked on again, but he stopped. No. Maybe it wasn’t so far off. He turned and looked again. He squinted at the coolers, looking as hard as he could, but still nothing was there.
Maybe it wasn’t that he needed to look harder. Maybe he was looking too hard. He closed his eyes and tried to relax. But when he opened them, there still wasn’t anything that wasn’t there before.
He could do this.
It had to be here. It had to be the answer.
He closed his eyes again and this time left them closed. He started walking, letting his fingers drag across the cool glass. He felt the edge of the door, plastic and metal, and then the gap between the machines, then more metal and plastic and more glass.
When his fingers slipped off this next cooler, they didn’t touch another. There was nothing. He turned, his eyes still closed, and felt his way into the crevice.
One step. Two. Three.
Then he opened his eyes.
He was looking down a shadowy corridor with cobwebs hanging from the ceiling. At the end of the corridor was a wide open space, dark and dusty. He could see booths and tables and a podium with a sign urging him to wait to be seated.
A restaurant.
He turned and looked back at the store. It was brightly lit in comparison. He could see people walking around out there, but they couldn’t see him. He was hidden, just like the restaurant itself.
He stepped deeper into the corridor and looked around. There were big windows along two of the walls, but they were covered in dust and grime. One was broken. It probably played hell on the heating and cooling costs.
Beneath all the dirt and disrepair, the room was bland and dated, with cheap wood paneling, faded plastic plants and dull tile floors. The room was divided (probably into smoking and nonsmoking sections) by a thin, wooden partition topped with decorated glass. One of these panes was also broken. Shards of glass littered the table beneath it and glittered upon the dust-covered floor.
It looked like this place hadn’t been used in years. Just like the others.
He couldn’t believe it. This store had a restaurant attached to it. When was the last time anyone ate here? When was the last time anyone even set foot in here? How could such a place just vanish? Did the owner of this building really have no idea what he had?
This was it. This was the secret of Aiden’s disappearance. He obviously found this passageway somehow and slipped out through the exterior doors of the restaurant.
He could hardly wait to tell Karen about this.
His hand went to the phone in his front pocket and he remembered that Paul wasn’t with him. Paul couldn’t see the door to the restaurant. He wouldn’t have any idea where he went. And he didn’t have a phone that Eric could call to tell him.
He needed to go back.
But as he turned he found his way blocked by something that wasn’t there before, something large, silhouetted against the brighter lights of the store behind it.
He couldn’t tell what it was, but he was sure it hadn’t been there a moment ago.
Then two blood-red eyes opened and glared at him.
It was the thing from the asylum. The thing that came up from the basement. The thing that chased him out into the parking lot and would have killed him if it hadn’t been for Paul’s timely arrival.
Eric said that bad word again.
He wasn’t going to get out that way. It seemed that Aiden left through the restaurant’s main doors and now he was going to have to do the same.
But as soon as he turned around, he found a second creature standing in front of that door.
He was trapped.