Change Of Season (53 page)

"Lovely."

They headed to the right, passing by Autumn’s quick way into the building, which reminded her in turn of the night Andrew helped her back to Ashbury undetected.  Who had been following her that night, and why?  Would he – or she – be down here tonight?  At the first fork, they ventured right, their trajectory carrying them towards Pearson Hall, the Senior Academics building, and possibly Athletics.  Every scrape of boot on gritty concrete echoed, every absently kicked rock or stick startled her.  The tunnels were obviously ignored, decomposing mulch and mildew combining in a nauseating, possibly  noxious scent.  Autumn drew her coat collar higher, filtering the air through the bomber material.

The walls were seldom marked with signage, but from what they’d been able to estimate by direction and distance, they were nearing Pearson Hall.  Pipes grew larger, steam bursts more frequent, and up ahead on the right, there was a door with signage – indicating a room of maintenance purposes. 
We must be under a building, or close to it
.

"It smells terrible down here!" Veronica hissed.  "I wish I’d known to bring one of those SARS masks."

"It’s much worse over here.  I want one too."  Gesturing to a branching up ahead, Autumn’s light reflected off a bronze plate on the wall.  "Looks like we have a sign."

Veronica rushed ahead, perhaps eager for an escape to fresh air.  Studying the sign, she muttered beneath her breath.

"What?"

"Just look."

Bringing up the rear, Autumn quickly understood her friend’s angry reaction.  To their right, the sign indicated the Patient Dormitories – Pearson Hall, as it was now known, as well as the male complement, MacDonald Hall.  To their left, however, lay something far more disturbing than a haunted dorm.

"Staff Quarters," Autumn whispered.

"These tunnels run all the way to the Faculty," Veronica said.  "Looks like Grant has pretty handy access to students."

"Veronica, we don’t know that for sure." 

Hollow reassurances, at best.  They had yet to locate a way off campus, a way around the school security measures.  But this... If the tunnels truly ran all the way out to Faculty Housing, it opened up the possibility that their musings about Professor Grant were actually viable – making him a killer.

"Let’s go find out," Veronica stated firmly, heading down the left corridor.

Her friend strode headlong towards the secluded corner of campus where instructors and their families made their home.  Bringing up the rear, Autumn scanned the walls, seeking further signage or other markers.  The further they drifted from the Media Studies building, the more intense her trepidation.  Neither of them knew a way above ground from here, and as she’d learned on her last exploration, blind guessing could prove disastrous.  Eighty feet down, the tunnels branched again, forming a cross.  The glint of bronze plating taunted them from a distance, daring them to move closer. 

"We should probably head back soon," Autumn suggested.

Veronica ignored her, focused on the signs ahead.  A sudden burst of steam from an overhead pipe sent Veronica sideways into the opposing wall, grimacing as her hand planted in mold.

"Gross!"  Waving her light, she ushered Autumn ahead.  "What do they say?"

Autumn anxiously approached the plates, angling her light to reduce glare.  "Operating Theatre is left, which means this path probably reconnects to the tunnel I went down last time..."

"And the right?"

Sickened, she replied, "Staff Quarters."

Veronica scraped her palm clean along the edge of the latter sign, smudging it with mold and dirt.  "He’s been here since 1998, and he graduated in 1980.  Means and opportunities."

"But what’s the motive?" Autumn asked.  "That’s what bothers me, V.  Why?  And why make Nikki look like a suicide?"

"I don’t know."  Veronica sighed, shaking her head.  "My head hurts, Ryan Buell.  Maybe you’re right about ending this episode of
Paranormal Prep
.  Let’s head back for tonight, and come again another day."

"Backtrack or take the left?"

"Screw it, let’s take the left.  Can’t be any worse than this."

It was a solemn march, the two of them trekking towards their exit.  Each was deep in thought, neither willing to verbalize their conclusions.  For Autumn, it was still uncertain:  perhaps there was a tunnel off campus.  They were wandering blind down here, and with all of the endless branches, it grew impossible to ascertain which remained unidentified.  There was also the fact that Miraj had managed to get on and off campus-

But she’s not real
.
  Or is she
?

Autumn shoved aside the tangled threads of her session, still wrestling with Emma’s words earlier in the day.  She needed to focus on Nikki now.  She’d wanted them to come here for some reason.  Was this it?  Was she trying to help them confirm Grant as her killer?  Or was something else lingering in the filth and shadows?

Another branching of tunnels greeted them five minutes down the unlit tunnel, a right and straight ahead their only options.  Mentally, Autumn mapped the campus, trying to ascertain which would carry them back to their entry point.  She was getting turned around, and panic began to swell within her chest. 

"Ugh, I think I know where the Operating Room is," Veronica grumbled, waving her light.

Autumn glanced over, edging towards the gleaming metal dancing in the beam.  A needle, uncapped, lay on the ground, lodged in a mucky puddle.  A few feet away, a rotting half of a latex glove lay crumpled near the wall.  Another needle and shattered glass. 

"Is this not a health hazard?  Did they not inspect this school for this crap?" Veronica was seething.  "If only there was a way to report this garbage."

Autumn nodded, stepping closer to examine the debris.  "If I get expelled, I am totally ratting them out.  Maintenance workers could hurt themselves.  Wait, what is that?"

Crouching down, she ran her light over what appeared to be a cloth of some kind, rotten leaves and – was that
hair
?  Waving Veronica closer, Autumn confirmed her suspicions, swallowing down the urge to vomit.

Red hair, tangled in a knot around a glove.  As if it were ripped out of someone’s head.

"Maybe they haven’t inspected since 1999," she whispered nervously.

Veronica pulled her phone from her pocket, snapping several photos and cursing under her breath.  Autumn’s hand shook, the flashlight bobbing up and down as if to agree that yes, this was fast becoming a bad horror film where people emerged from shadows with knives and supernatural strength.

"We need to get the hell out of here," Veronica said, pocketing her phone.  "Like, now."

Somewhere behind them, a door slammed loudly.  The sound of metal striking metal sent them scrambling to their feet, eyes darting in all directions. 
Staff Quarters
.  Grant was on the prowl.

"Kill your light!" Autumn hissed. 

They plunged into darkness, their shallows breath punctuated by the creaking of overhead pipes.  Autumn’s heart pounded wildly, flooding her ears with the rhythm of a manic marching band.  Perhaps it wasn’t a door.  Perhaps something had backed up, like a rusty car engine.

And then, the footsteps approached.  Slowly, deliberately.  Someone with patience and confidence.

"Walk quietly, but quickly," Veronica whispered, taking her hand.

They took the path dead ahead, walking blindly on tiptoes.  If they could find a turn, round a corner, perhaps they could turn the light on and minimize risk of detection.  The steps continued to approach, slow, but targeted.  Someone was in this tunnel with them.

Distantly, a single yellow fluorescent bulb flickered over a steel door, its light just revealing a left turn ahead.  Autumn nudged Veronica, waving her flashlight and gesturing to the left.  Her friend nodded in understanding, the two of them walking faster, seeking refuge.  A hundred feet to go.  Ninety. 

The footsteps halted.

Autumn fought the urge to glance backwards, frightened of what – or who – she might see.  Had they evaded their pursuer?  Confused him?  Their beacon beckoned, feet sliding over grit and gravel as they drew nearer.  Seventy feet.  Sixty feet. 

A pebble rolled down a corridor, bouncing off concrete.  The sound echoed from the right.

Fifty feet, then forty.  Autumn’s eyes strained in the darkness, her palm clammy and cramped from Veronica’s terrified grip. 
Maybe Andrew was right about this being a bad idea
.  Too late now.

Behind them, someone began to run.

"Let’s go!"

Veronica led the charge in their race with the devil, flipping on her light seconds before they rounded the corner, guiding their retreat.  This new tunnel curved slightly, course correcting to the right, the floor a mess of puddles that splashed loudly as they ran through them.  A dead end loomed, the tunnel splitting to the left and right again. 

"Which way?"

"Left!" Autumn impulsively chose.

Follow the evil
.

Their pursuer was keeping pace, slowly gaining on them.  With a little luck and a few quick turns, they might be able to beat him to the theatre, perhaps escape into the building and then outside.  The tunnel ended ahead, verging onward to their right alone. 

"This can’t be the right way!" Autumn lamented.  "Shit!"

It was too hard to track him now:  their footsteps and his echoed off the walls, radiating in all directions.  A cacophony of clapping and sloshing in a chorus. 

"Maybe there’s a closet," Veronica murmured, gasping for air.  "Hide."

The walls were barren, devoid of alternatives.  Rounding the forced right, Autumn slammed into Veronica’s back as she drew to a skidding halt.  A door. 

"It’s locked!" she hisses, jiggling the doorknob.

"Maybe it’s stuck!"

Autumn’s chest heaved, her vision blurring.  She couldn’t keep running this way.  She could sacrifice herself, allow Veronica to continue on. 

How long could you evade a curse?

Overhead, piercing sirens began to wail.  Veronica slammed into the door, cursing and pleading.  It was nearly impossible to hear anything now, beyond the shrieking whistle.  Autumn clamped her palms over her ears in an effort to stifle its whine.

"What the hell is that?" she asked.

With a grunt, Veronica stepped backwards and charged the door anew, falling to the ground beyond as it sprung open.

"Fire alarm," she yelled.  "Now, come on!"

"Come where?"

Left or right:  the labyrinth was endless in this hell.  Where were they now?  They hesitated, each struggling to reason out their location.  The tunnel was familiar, but only just, and after nearly an hour of wandering, it was hard to tell which direction was out.  The fire alarm only made it harder to concentrate, the pain from its whistles eliciting a blinding pulse cutting swaths over her vision.

"Wait!  Sign on that wall!" Autumn said, casting her light to the right side. 

They jogged towards it, weary and disoriented, as overhead, a stampede seemed to be crossing the ground. 
Fire alarm
...  Was it an actual fire?  Or was it a convenient distraction. a cover for a sinister purpose, like in 2009?  Seconds before reaching the sign a beam of light struck it from their left.

Someone else was nearby.

Veronica’s light flipped off quickly, the two of them frozen near the wall. How had he gotten ahead of them so easily?  A voice called out over the din but it was lost, unintelligible.  All she could discern was the masculine tone. 

"You run behind us.  I’ll surrender," Autumn whispered.

"Like hell I will!" Veronica hissed.  "Maglites are heavy.  We fight."

Again, he called to them, louder this time.  The light drew closer, its sphere widening and grazing Autumn’s jacket sleeve.  It wouldn’t be long now.  Her grip tightened on her light as she drew a deep breath and lunged around the corner.

"Andrew!"

"Andrew?" Veronica asked.  "How-"

"Oh thank God!  We have to get the fuck out of here!"

His hand seized hers and Autumn held fast, Veronica bringing up the rear as they fled down the long tunnel.  Within minutes, she recognized their entry point and Autumn felt her body relax as they coursed onward.  Andrew was leading them to Trudeau Hall.

"just like old times!" he joked weakly over the sirens.

"Old what?"

"Later, V!" Autumn gasped.

By the time they reached the end of the line, Autumn was being half-dragged along, her lungs aflame from exertion.  Veronica slumped against a wall as Andrew scanned the corridor for unwanted witnesses before pulling them out into the laundry facilities.

"What the hell is going on?" Veronica managed around gasps.

"Fire alarm at the Media Studies building," Andrew explained.  "Trucks should be here any second."

"I want to see," Autumn said, her voice hoarse.