“It’s locked, and it’s unbelievably dark up there.”
Alex was back, sitting on the floor like he’d run a marathon, complaining about how much pain he was in. He put his hand on that olive green fanny pack at his side, and I could tell he was thinking about sticking himself with one of the needles. We might have sent the wrong guy, given his circulation problems. He’d climbed all the way to the top and tested the door, just to make 100 percent certain that a lunatic had just locked us underground.
“So we’ve got an insane witch holding us captive in the woods,” Kate said, shaking her head. “I didn’t wake up this morning thinking this was possible, but hanging out with you guys again, it’s starting to feel like it was inevitable.”
While Alex6 had been climbing all the way up and back down the ladder, the rest of us had waited, too nervous to fan out or go very far from the entryway before knowing for sure what we’d gotten ourselves into. The biggest reason for the holdup, I think, was what the place looked like. Three hallways led off in different directions, each with a different-colored arrow on the floor and a sparse set of words:
RED ZONE
BLUE ZONE / O ZONE
GREEN ZONE
But it was the shape and quality of the passageways that bothered me the most. When I was a kid, there was a round culvert that ran under a road near my house. It was big enough to crawl down the center of and end up on the other side, but there came a time when I wouldn’t do that anymore because it made me feel claustrophobic. There were a lot of bugs in there, plus I started thinking there might be a possum or a family of rats making a home out of it. The passageways under Fort Eden were like that, only a lot bigger. They were circular tubes, about fifteen feet around, with ridged edges like a Ruffles potato chip. They were also rusted out and gnarly looking, like acid and rotten water had chewed away at the integrity of the metal for a hundred years.
They were lit with yellow lightbulbs that were crackling on and off with life or dimmed to near uselessness with grime. I half expected a zombie to come down one of the halls, followed by a whole army of them, hell bent on making us one of their own.
“This is giving me the creeps, big-time,” said Ben. He kept working his hands into fists, like the climb down had really set off his arthritis. “Are you sure it won’t open if you push on it?”
“Dude, I’m sure,” Alex said. He’d decided not to inject himself, shaking his legs awake instead. “She’s not letting us out.”
“I bet she will if we find the vials,” I offered halfheartedly. Right after I said it I thought the same thing they probably did: how exactly is she going to know if we find them?
“Let’s fan out in teams of two and see where these tunnels lead,” Connor said, leaning in pretty close to Kate as his chosen partner. “Three directions, six of us—meet back here in like five minutes. Maybe there’s another way out or a way to contact her from down here.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” said Ben, “except back up there to pound on that door.”
Alex stood up, rubbing his legs.
“I’m telling you, man, it’s totally locked. And I already pounded on it a bunch of times.”
“Well, I’m not going down one of those halls, no way,” said Ben.
Marisa moved closer to him and put her arm around his shoulder. “I’ll go with you. We’ll protect each other.”
“With what? Our shoes? Your smile? What if something’s down here with us? I’m not doing it.”
But Marisa pulled him toward her, which really bothered me. “Come on, we’ll take the best-lit way. It’ll be easy. We just have to find this room, get what we came for, and she’ll let us out. No worries.”
“Hell with that,” said Alex, looking down the passageway that remained, the one he’d have to go down with me as his partner. “I’m going with you guys. Light is my friend.”
The three of them seemed to think if they got to the best-lit way first they’d have won the advantage to check it out, which turned out to be true.
“Fine, I’ll take Connor and head this way,” said Kate, pointing down the corridor with the red arrow on the floor and a sputtering light somewhere around a corner. Connor was game, and before anyone could start moving, the two of them were laughing nervously, holding hands like two people in a slasher movie about to walk into a very bad situation.
“Looks like you got the bad draw,” said Alex, pushing Marisa and Ben down the second round passage, the one with the blue arrow and the pretty good lighting, and smirking at me like I was the big loser in this equation. Which I was. The one remaining hall, with the green arrow, was basically pitch-black. There were no lights down there at all, just curved walls of rusted metal that were quickly devoured by total darkness twenty feet in.
“You know what, I’ll go with you guys,” I said.
“No, we got this fair and square,” said Marisa. “Just go, take a quick look. We’ll meet back here.”
Her eyes said it all. You had me, Will. You really did. But I can’t trust you, not for a while anyway.
“Marisa, seriously—I’m sorry. I didn’t know what else to do.”
She didn’t answer, unless you count those brown eyes looking back at me like I’d made the biggest mistake of my life.
“You guys would have done the same thing,” I said, feeling the fear of being alone rise in my throat as they kept on.
“No, I wouldn’t have,” said Ben.
“Me neither, bro, me neither,” Alex agreed.
Marisa turned back for the briefest of seconds, and I had a glimmer of hope that everything would be okay. Her resolve was starting to melt. I knew this girl. I could win her back if I played it cool for a few hours. And I could see how tired she was, which was to my advantage. She needed my protection the most when weariness set in.
I heard the distant echo of Connor yelling back from around a corner where I couldn’t see him: “Nothing yet! You guys?”
“Nothing!” yelled Alex.
Only ten minutes had passed since we’d been locked underground and I’d been ditched by my girlfriend and everyone else. I stood alone for a few seconds, glancing down both rust-infested tunnels, thinking about taking chase down one of them. Then I pulled out the thing that Mrs. Goring had given me and took a closer look at it.
“What is this, a hotel?” I whispered to myself, barely hearing my own voice. It was a key card, green with a white arrow running down the middle. And there were words running down one side of the card, also in white:
GREEN ZONE OBSERVATION. SECURITY LEVEL: 4
“Just my luck,” I said. “Green would be the darkest one.”
The one nobody else would choose.
It was starting to feel like Mrs. Goring had set me up from the start, all the way back when she’d told me the truth about Rainsford and the cures a year before.
I thought about calling everyone back to me. It stood to reason that I held in my hand the key to a room that would hold the vials we were supposed to retrieve. But a bigger part of me felt like this was my chance to redeem myself. They’d find nothing, locked doors at the ends of tunnels, probably, and I’d find the treasure we sought. I’d find what we needed, get us out of here, and better yet, get them all cured. They’d be sorry they ever treated me like a disease.
I started down the hall with the green arrow on the floor and was stunned by how quickly it became disorienting and dark. My hands touched the ridges of metal and it made me think of a Slinky laid out along the carpet in my room. Looking back, I could still see a faint light shining around the hole that led up and out of the underground. Turning a corner would mean total darkness.
I’m going to find these vials and show these guys, I thought.
You tell ’em, bro! Keith’s sarcastic voice filled my head.
You’re darn right. I got this.
I started moving faster, hands in front of me like a blind man, and soon found another wall. This one felt like the surface of an empty swimming pool, smooth and flat, and it ended in a hard turn to the left.
I was dangerously close to feeling like I might get lost in the dark and end up starving to death or killed by the unseen creatures I felt sure were lurking everywhere.
In the distance I saw something small and green and glowing, like the soft light of an exit sign at the end of a darkened hall. It was lower than an exit sign, doorknob height, and when I reached it more quickly than I’d expected, I understood what it was.
I held the key card in my hand, turning it over like an ace of spades, staring at what looked like a Visa card reader stuck to the wall. In the soft glow of green from a strip of light on the reader, I could see the thick handle of a sturdy metal door.
“I’m so finding these vials,” I said, elated at the prospect of getting the job done that no one else could take credit for. I was equal parts exhilarated and afraid as I slid the card through the reader like I’d done a thousand times before paying for groceries at Walmart with my parents. The locking mechanism on the door clicked solidly, as if whatever bolt had just moved was meant to keep everyone on the planet out.
I swung the door open and found that it was heavy, like the bomb shelter door in the basement of Mrs. Goring’s place.7 It was dark inside—too dark—so I stood in the doorway, hoping my eyes would adjust with the help of the paltry green glow from the card reader.
“Well done, Will Besting.”
“Whoa!” I yelled, my shoulder flying sideways and connecting with the doorjamb. The pain was sharp and hot, but the shock was nothing compared to having heard Mrs. Goring’s voice from inside the room. I started backing away, stumbling over my own feet.
“Come inside,” Mrs. Goring said. It sounded like she was in the room, walking toward me.
“Turn on the lights and maybe I will.”
“I can’t turn on the lights, Will. They turn on when you close the door.”
“Where are you?”
“Does it matter? Just come in. You’re very close now. Don’t you want to save your friends? You owe them that much, after lying to them.”
“I didn’t lie to them! I just . . . I didn’t tell them every little detail.”
“And you spied on them, too. Didn’t you, Will? You spied on your friends.”
“I don’t care!”
And I didn’t, not about most of them. What did it matter anyway? But Marisa, that was different.
“I didn’t want her to be afraid,” I said, taking one step into the darkness. “I didn’t see the point.”
I’d dug into her files and listened to her deepest, darkest secrets. And as if that weren’t bad enough, I’d deliberately chosen not to tell her what I knew about the cure. How do you not tell your girlfriend that stuff?
“I don’t think that’s the way they see it. I mean really, Will, come on. You lied, withheld, cheated. You’d have to murder them for it to get any worse.”
“You’re a bad person, Mrs. Goring.”
“I’ve been called worse.”
I heard someone yelling my name from far away. Was it Marisa? I couldn’t tell for sure, but I was done dealing with Mrs. Goring alone.
“Down here!” I yelled. “Down the green hall. I found the room!”
“You didn’t find anything, Will Besting.”
“Shut up, Goring!” I yelled. “Just leave me alone.”
I heard someone coming toward me in the dark, maybe several people, yelling about who I was talking to.
“I will not leave you alone, Will. I can’t. You’re the way in. It’s you and me now, to the end.”
“What are you even talking about?” I pleaded.
“Get in this room right now.”
“I won’t!”
“You will. Or your friends will die.”
“What? Wait—what are you saying?”
“Get in this room, Will Besting. Get in and shut the door. Their lives depend on it.”
“Mrs. Goring, please. Don’t do anything stupid.”
“This is your last chance. If you want to get your friends outside again, including Marisa, you better get inside and close the door right now. I won’t ask you again.”
My head was spinning with information, most of which I didn’t understand and for sure didn’t want access to. Why me? Why is it always me?
It was Marisa, I could hear her now as she came closer.
“Marisa, can you hear me?” I said, standing in the doorway.
“Yeah, I can hear you. I think we’re almost there. Wait for me—don’t move.”
There was a sweetness in her voice, like she was afraid for me, like she’d missed me. But more than that, like she herself was trying desperately to reach me because she didn’t want to be down here without me.
“Time’s up, Will.”
Mrs. Goring’s voice had changed to a gruff whisper only I could hear. All I could think of were the words she’d said and the wild look in her eye when she got really angry.
Get in this room, Will Besting. Get in and shut the door. Their lives depend on it.
I stepped all the way inside and took the door by the edge, feeling its steel smoothness on my palm.
“I love you, Marisa. Don’t forget, okay?”
There was some laughter—Ben or Alex or both—and then silence as I swung the door shut hard and fast.
The last thing I heard before the door closed all the way was Marisa’s voice.
“I won’t forget.”
And then she was gone and I was alone with Mrs. Goring.
The room filled with light when the door sealed shut and I had to shield my eyes for a second or two. I heard the iron bolt lock into place from somewhere deep inside the wall, followed by the sound of someone pounding on the door from the outside. It was a distant sound, and their voices were even farther out of my range of comprehension. The world had gone audibly soft and unfocused outside the room, and I turned to see what kind of prison I’d found.
“If you can’t hear me as well as you’d like, use the big round dial. The one that looks like it belongs in a science-fiction movie.”
Mrs. Goring’s voice was back.
“Give them a little time, they’ll start moving around. Like mice trapped in a maze.”
She wasn’t talking to me, or at least it didn’t seem like she was, not just then.
“You can see them?”
“Sure I can. So can you.”
The room had six monitors inside: four on the wall directly in front of me, plus one on each of the side walls. Below the monitors there were control panels from what did look like a 1950s science-fiction movie. And there was the dial, below the center monitor on the far wall, just like she’d said. The monitor above the dial crackled to life and there was the bottom of the ladder, where we’d come in.
“This is starting to feel familiar,” I said, walking to the dial and turning up the volume on Mrs. Goring.
“Too loud,” she boomed into the room, and then with an audible click the screen changed and there she was, staring at me. The entryway on the screen was gone, replaced by wicked old Eve Goring. She controlled the monitors from the outside, or at least some of them.
I cranked down the volume to a reasonable level, then spoke:
“If you hurt Marisa—if you hurt any of them—”
“You’re hardly in a position to threaten me. Better you listen and do as you’re told.”
I screamed in frustration and pounded my fists on the metal door, then kicked it way too hard and screamed again from the pain. I sat on the concrete floor and felt like sobbing with anger. Sobbing from being controlled, for being dumb enough to fall into a trap, for fear I’d lost Marisa for good.
“Stand up, you coward,” Mrs. Goring said. “You’ve got work to do.”
I looked around the room once more and saw the dark, frosted glass above Mrs. Goring’s face in the monitor, where a camera had to be positioned so she could watch me. I made a mental note to find something heavy so I could bash the glass in if the need arose.
You wanna play games? I’m good at games, I thought.
I don’t know, bro. This ain’t air hockey. She’s a crafty old warhorse.
Thanks for the vote of confidence, Keith.
“Here’s what you need to know,” said Mrs. Goring. “It’s dangerous down there.”
“Ya think?” I mocked. From what little I’d seen of the surroundings, there were a thousand different ways someone could get hurt. “What is this place?”
“It was a missile silo, a long time ago.”
“Liar.”
“Oh no, I’m definitely not lying. You’d be surprised how many abandoned underground facilities like this there are. We were a jumpy bunch, back in the day.”
“And I’m in the observation room?”
I had managed to find the place where my key card would be inserted; unfortunately, the mechanism for accepting the card had been destroyed.
“I hit it with a hammer. You can’t get out, Will. Not unless I let you out. And that’s not happening until you get what I sent you down there for.”
“The vials.”
“Yes, the vials. And like I said, it’s dangerous. There will be obstacles.”
“Like what? Rats?”
“Worse,” she said, turning my sarcasm into something I was actually worried about. I watched the monitor as Mrs. Goring disappeared and the screen returned to a view of the entryway. They’d returned there, and I tried to pick out Marisa in the group, but the camera was far away, so they were just bodies milling back and forth.
“There are still some, shall we say, hot locations down there.”
“What do you mean, hot?”
“Nuclear. It’s why they put these things underground, Will. Also why I don’t swim in the pond.”
“Are we being nuked down here, Mrs. Goring?” I couldn’t think of any other way to ask a serious question.
“Only if you enter the wrong rooms or open the wrong doors. Watch the dials—they’ll tell you if someone has gone someplace they shouldn’t.”
I walked up to the control panel and found a series of round dials like speedometers on a car dash with words under them.
GREEN ZONE LEVELS
RED ZONE LEVELS
BLUE ZONE LEVELS
O ZONE LEVELS
The needles were all hovering softly around the number 2 out of a total of 10. At 6 the numbers turned red.
“There are also some electrical problems,” Mrs. Goring said. “Look to the left of the door, there’s a schematic.”
I turned and saw a tattered piece of paper about a yard wide with zones and rooms and passageways. There were hazard lines all over it.
“The lines indicate places where the floor has caved. There’s a lot of electricity pumping through the water in those holes. Keep your friends clear.”
When I turned back in the direction of the monitors, Mrs. Goring’s face had returned. She’d moved from being only heard to being seen again, which had an unexpectedly calming effect on my nerves. Seeing her made me feel closer to the surface, closer to getting out alive.
“Look familiar?” she asked.
Part of me wanted to put my fist through the glass surface of the screen. She was staring at me like she held all the cards and knew it. And she was referring to the room she was in, which did look familiar. She was standing in the bomb shelter. Obviously she had more control over those monitors than I’d had a year before. My guess? There was a hidden panel of buttons I hadn’t been aware of, controls she would now use to communicate with me at the times of her choosing.
“So you don’t see a problem with one or more of the six people you sent down here falling in a hole and getting fried?”
“Not really, no.”
“Is there a chance someone might find a drum of atomic sludge?”
“Only if they open the wrong doors, and you control the doors.”
That was interesting. Apparently I controlled the locks on the doors, which meant I could also limit where everyone could go.
“Any bombs down here?” I asked, moving in closer to the monitor, trying my best to remain calm while I searched the space around her head for anything that might help me get out of an abandoned missile silo.
“They’ve all been dismantled, but some of the parts are still down there. Someone much smarter than you might even be able to piece something together if they had the right tools.”
Yeah, I thought. And shove it down your throat.
“And you think I’m just going to agree to help you find these vials?”
“It’s your call, Will.”
“And it’s your war with this guy, not ours.”
“I’ll find someone else to do it if you won’t. But your friends won’t last long without your help. There are a lot of wrong turns down there. I know the right turns; the ones that will keep them alive.”
I yelled at her and fell heavily against the door with my back, sliding down to the floor, where I sat staring at the concrete.
“Calm down, Will. They’re not going anywhere until you unlock the doors.”
“Why are you making us do this?” I pleaded.
“I already told you. So I can kill Rainsford.”
“But you don’t even know where he went! This is insane.”
“I have little doubt that he’ll be back. It’s only a matter of time.”
I stood up, reached into my pocket, and felt the thing that I had found in the woods.
He’s already back, you fool.
He’s back and he’s going to kill you first.
I didn’t know for sure he’d returned, but it was a possibility. One thing was for sure: Mrs. Eve Goring wasn’t alone at Fort Eden.
She looked at her watch and then back at me, an icy resolve in her voice.
“You don’t have a lot of time. Hours, not days, Will.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“There’s no water down there you’d want anyone to drink. And there is some radiation, trace amounts, but enough to cause some problems if you stay too long.”
“I’m not telling them that.”
“I figured as much. You do like your secrets, Will.”
Maybe she was right. Maybe I did like holding my cards close to my chest, but what good would it do them to know they were gulping down mouthfuls of deadly air with every breath? It would be panic. Better they didn’t know.
“How long do I have to finish this errand for you?” I asked.
Mrs. Goring glanced at her watch again, and when I expected an answer, she turned to the left as if surprised by something. I thought I heard a knock, but I couldn’t be sure where it came from. Was it from outside the observation room door or from the bomb shelter?
“I have to go,” she said nervously. “Open the blue door first and send two of them through. Only two, no more. Once they’re on the other side, lock them out. Don’t send anyone else yet. The controls are self-explanatory. Do as you’re told and this will all be over before you know it. I’ll check back in half an hour.”
“Wait—I’m not locking anyone—”
The screen went dead before I could finish what I was going to say, and I listened as the muffled pounding outside the door continued.
Mrs. Goring was gone.
6 Alex was the third guy to get cured at Ford Eden. He was afraid of dogs because of an incident when he was a kid. If you want to see his cure, I posted it. After the cure his legs kept going to sleep on him, you know, like when you wake up and you can’t feel your big toe and when it comes back it’s needles and pins? Like that. It’s like he’s sixteen, but his circulation is seventy years old. Check it: www.willbesting.com, password throwmeabone.
7 I spent a lot of time in Mrs. Goring’s bomb shelter. If you want to see what it looks like, I have pictures: www.willbesting.com. Password: bombshelter.