Chapter 3

We know it’s a bad idea for all three of us to jump through the hole into the basement and follow this tunnel. But Gabby doesn’t want me going alone. And Ahmed doesn’t want to be left behind by himself.

So now we’re all walking through the tunnel. Our phones offer some feeble light, but we can’t see very far in front of us. I keep my free hand pressed to the cold clay wall, feel my way along.

“I wonder if this was the tunnel Earl Morrison used to meet up with Simone DeVray,” whispers Gabby.

“Who and who?” I say.

“Earl Morrison. Western movie mega-star? He filmed, like, six or seven movies at Sanford’s Folly. And he costarred with this actress named Simone DeVray a few times. And they had this big affair.”

One good thing about movie trivia: it helps you forget that one of your friends is missing.

“Why wouldn’t they just meet up in their trailers?” I ask.

“A guy like Earl Morrison didn’t have a trailer,” sniffs Gabby. “He rented entire hotels. He had whole buildings set aside for him on studio lots. Rumor had it that he liked to have secret tunnels built on movie sets, so that he could go places without being followed and watched by a zillion people. He was a huge deal, back in the thirties and forties and fifties and—”

“Got it,” I said. “Well, I don’t know about him, but if I had to use a creepy tunnel like this to meet up with my lady friend, it would kinda kill the mood.”

Suddenly a wall looms up in front of us. But there’s a doorway cut into the wall. Wait, not a doorway.

“A staircase,” breathes Gabby.

That’s an exaggeration. It’s more like a wheelchair ramp with a few token ridges cut into it. But at the top, there’s a wooden trapdoor that I push open.

Above us, there’s another shriek.

“Destiny?” I yelp.

I stick my head up through the opening and see several things at once. Four wooden walls. Some smallish metal cylinders stacked on the wooden floor.

And Destiny, staring down at me, a hand over her mouth. “Oh, hey, Alex. Scared me.”

“We scared you?” I launch myself into the room. It seems to be some kind of shed. Mostly empty, with plenty of room for the four of us. “Why didn’t you answer when we were yelling for you?”

She looks surprised. “I didn’t hear any yelling.”

Gabby and Ahmed climb up behind me.

“I tried calling you!” Gabby snaps at her.

“You did?” Destiny pulls out her phone to check. “It didn’t buzz . . . You tried to call me eight times?”

“We heard you scream,” says Ahmed. “We thought you were hurt.”

“Oh, yeah.” Destiny shrugs. “I fell through the floor in one of the other buildings. But I guess you figured that out. Isn’t the tunnel cool?”

“So you’re okay,” I say. I’m almost more irritated than relieved.

“Yeah,” she chirps.

I shove her bracelet at her. “Here. You dropped this.”

“Oh, thanks! My dad gave that to me. Can’t believe I let it fall off.” As she takes it, she gives me a weird look. Probably because I’m glaring at her. “What’s up with you?”

“Nothing. Just that you disappeared.”

“Well, I’m fine. No harm done, right?”

I can’t argue with that. She wasn’t playing some kind of trick on us, worrying us on purpose. I don’t have a good excuse to be annoyed at her. I just don’t like losing track of people.

She’s already moved on. “Check this out.” She picks up one of the metal cylinders. “Gabby, aren’t these, like, old-school film reels?” She splits the cylinder in half, and I realize it’s actually a container. Now that she’s lifted the lid, we can see what’s inside.

“Looks like a mini tire,” I say, looking at the wheel-shaped metal object nestled in the case.

“Well, it’s not,” says Gabby dryly. Then her tone shifts gears, lifting with excitement. “You’re right, Destiny. It’s a film reel. Thirty-five-millimeter, I bet.” She gently lifts it out of the case. I catch a glimpse of a dark, translucent ribbon wrapped around the reel’s edge.

“Is that the actual film?” I ask, pointing. I like knowing how stuff works, how different parts fit together. That’s how I got good with computers.

Gabby sighs. I can tell she doesn’t consider me a budding film guru. “Yes, Alex. It’s called a print.” She carefully turns the reel over in her hands. Destiny starts looking through the other stacks. I join her. Some of the reels have labels. I read them even though they don’t make much sense.

Hard Trail, Morrison promo.

Bride of the West, Trailer.

Willis screen test.

MWTSS.

BOTW, Morrison interview . . .

The alarm on Ahmed’s phone goes off.

“Is it five already?” asks Gabby.

“Almost,” says Ahmed.

“Oh, sorry, man,” I say. “We’d better get going.”

Gabby and Destiny package up the reel again and put it back with the stack.

When we step out of the shed, I realize we’re at the far edge of Sanford’s Folly. This wooden shed sits by itself on the outskirts of the town. We’re at least fifty yards away from the white building, the mission. I glance in the opposite direction, away from the town. Nothing but more sand, a few scraggly cacti, and the surrounding metal fence.

I take another look at the shed. Up until now, we haven’t seen any intact wooden buildings here. But this one—it looks like the fire never even winked at it. Huh.

“Earth to Alex,” says Gabby. “Ahmed’s not the only one who has stuff to do tonight. Can we pick up the pace?”

We’re skirting around the mission and stepping back onto Main Street when we see the coyote.

It’s standing in the middle of the street, facing us. Blocking our path.

We all freeze. “Just back up slowly,” whispers Destiny. “They don’t usually attack people.”

“Unless they’re rabid,” mutters Ahmed.

I had no idea either of them knew anything about coyotes. But hey, I’m not complaining.

“It doesn’t look rabid,” I say.

That’s when it charges at us.

“New plan,” says Destiny. “Run.”