SUNDAY, 12:50 A.M.
They crashed onto the wooden floor of the antechamber. The door slammed against David’s legs. He shifted them out of the way, and it banged shut. Xander was suddenly on top of him. He had fistfuls of David’s T-shirt, and he was shaking him.
“See?” Xander said. He was so close, David felt spit spray his chin. “See? You didn’t listen to me and see what happened!”
Tears ran from the corners of David’s eyes into the hair at his temples. He gritted his teeth. He wasn’t gonna cry, he wasn’t. He wasn’t so sure about Xander, though. His brother stopped yelling, but kept his double-fisted grip on David’s collar. They stared into each other’s eyes. Xander shook his head.
The ferret in David’s chest was settling down. It scampered around and around, more slowly with each revolution. He squeezed his eyes shut, expelling the last of his tears. He could weep, probably should. He had almost died in the most horrific way. From the time he crossed the threshold to when Xander pulled him back, he had been terrified. Stalked by tigers. Hunted by humans. Almost knocked off a bridge. By all rights he should be dead.
But he wasn’t. He wasn’t. That’s what he held onto. Air filled his lungs. Blood flowed through his veins. His brother was spitting on him. He was alive.
He smiled, a big toothy grin. Into Xander’s gaping-stunned-frightened face, he said, “Can I do it again?”
Xander pulled him up several inches, just so he could toss him down. David’s head conked against the floor.
Xander said, “Idiot.” He pushed himself off of David. He picked up the camcorder, pulled the strap over his brother’s head, and dropped onto the bench.
David lay on the floor, breathing hard. He said, “I’m kidding.”
“You’re still an idiot.”
David said, “Thanks for saving me. How much did you see?”
Xander closed his eyes. “I put on the boots and the compass to open the door. At first, it was just colors, greens and browns. I leaned through the door a little more, just until I felt something trying to pull me in, and I could make out trees and leaves and stuff. It was like the portal was stuttering through the jungle, moving in little jerky motions. All of a sudden, I was right next to a tiger! I could smell it!”
“There were three of them,” David said.
Xander nodded, his eyes still closed. “I could tell there was more than one. I saw a flash of your shirt, but I wasn’t sure it was you. I waited to see if it would come around again. But then I was afraid I’d lose you completely, so I stepped through. Not far from you, as it turned out.” He examined the camera. It was dirty and scratched. He picked a leaf off it and tossed it to the floor. Immediately the leaf flipped in the air, as though caught in a draft, and fluttered away through the gap at the bottom of the portal door.
David felt a shooting pain in the top of his shoulder. He touched his fingers to it, winced. When he looked, his fingers were bloody. And here he’d thought that arrow had missed.
Xander said, “I was thinking. What if Dad hadn’t saved me last night?”
“Yeah?”
“Let’s say I died or for whatever reason I didn’t come back.” He looked down at David. “What would happen to me?”
“You’re dead?”
“Or gone forever.”
David’s brow furled in thought. “I think . . . if you’re dead, you’re dead.” He pursed his lips. “If you’re gone, you’re gone.”
Xander pointed at him. “That’s what I’m saying.”
David shook his head. “I don’t get it.”
“What happened to the family who lived here before us?”
“The dad killed everybody and—” David had a light-bulb moment. “Ahhh . . . You’re saying maybe that’s not what happened.”
“What if they went over and died or couldn’t find their way back?”
“All of them?”
Xander shrugged. “I’m just saying. As far as anyone here would know, they disappeared.” He went back to fiddling with the camcorder.
David closed his eyes. “You’re making my head hurt.”
“No, listen. What if we just solved the biggest mystery in Pinedale’s history, and we just don’t have the details?”
“Or evidence.”
“I’m not saying we can clear anybody’s name. Just . . . wouldn’t it be cool to figure it out? To know the truth?” He held up the camera and made a disgusted face. He said, “Nothing . . . just static.”
“How can that be?” David rubbed his chin where the camera had cracked it when he was on the rope bridge.
Xander pushed a few buttons. His voice came through the tiny speaker: “. . . might not want to burp or do anything too embarrassing . . .” He fast-forwarded, turning the voices into incomprehensible chipmunk-chatter. David remembered what he’d said after that: “Like scream?” Yeah, he’d done a bit of that, hadn’t he? Xander got the video rolling at normal speed again: “. . . gonna get Dad and come after you.” A moment later: the rude hiss of static.
“As soon as you stepped through,” Xander said. He set the camcorder on the bench and unstrapped the compass from his wrist.
David rolled over. Groaning, he pushed himself up onto his knees. “Achy,” he said. “All over.”
Xander nodded. “Take a shower. You’ll feel better.” He tugged off one of the boots.
David grabbed hold of the bench, lifted himself onto it. He put his head back against the wall. “What you said? You know, finding the truth about that family?”
Xander had the other boot off and was positioning them neatly on the bench. He said, “Solve a mystery, win a prize.”
David said, “There’s something else about that. If what you say really did happen to that family . . .” His stomach turned over on itself. “What’s gonna stop it from happening to us?”