Read Dangerous Designs Online

Authors: Dale Mayer [paranormal/YA]

Tags: #Young Adult, #Paranormal & Urban

Dangerous Designs (4 page)

BOOK: Dangerous Designs
9.65Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

"Where am I?" Puzzled, she backed up to get a wider view of the building. "What is this place?"

"It's an abandoned mine entrance."

She spun around. "It's what?"

Eric pointed out the landmarks. "This is the trailer entrance to the old Bankhead mine. Remember, it closed down a few years back?"

"How do you know? I thought you were new?" she murmured with a sidelong glance. Way off topic, but the fact that she could actually keep a conversation going right now was a freakin' miracle. So what if it was a mine entrance? What she really wanted to know was how the hell she'd managed to get inside.

"If you didn't know what the place was, how did you get inside?"

Trying for an air of nonchalance she didn't feel, Storey went for simplicity. "I fell down a hole, ended up in the mine."

A long slow whistle escaped his lips, his eyes widened in shock. "Wow. Good thing I found you when I did. You could have been stuck in there forever."

Oh, God. He was right. A shudder worked up her legs, reducing them to the consistency of wet noodles. But as much as she wanted to bolt from the place, she knew she had to have answers. Otherwise, what would stop her from ending up there again? She needed to go back in – with the door open for light.

"Come on, let's go home." Eric faced the wide, gravel road overgrown by bushes and weeds.

Storey glanced from the door to the road then back to the door. She had to know. "Just a second."

A few quick steps and she had her hand on the doorknob before she could talk herself out of it. It wouldn't open. She frowned and spun back to Eric. "Did you lock it again?"

"Lock what?" He walked back and tested the door himself. It wouldn't open. "No. I didn't. At least, I don't think so."

"Freaky," she murmured. The door
was
old and rusty. Eric stood off to one side, hands on his hips, glaring at her. Had he locked it to stop her from going back inside? Then why not just say so? Or maybe he'd locked it accidentally.

"Are you coming?"

"Yeah, "she said with one long last look at the door.

She'd explore later. When Eric wasn't around. And when she had a flashlight.

Something beyond weird was going on and she needed to know what it was.

CHAPTER FOUR

S
chool slogged by. Storey was desperate to get home, yet every time she checked her watch, it appeared to have stopped, forcing her to check the clock on the back wall.

"Yes, Storey, it's at least two minutes since you last checked the time. What's the matter? Do you have a hot date or something?"

Snickers raced around the classroom, gaining momentum until they became an outright laugh.

"She's probably heading to the coven for her initiation." That comment came from somewhere off to the left. Storey didn't bother looking for the culprit. Could be any one of a dozen people hitting at her because of her mother.

Laughter swelled.

Stone-faced, she slouched lower in her seat. To hell with them.

"So if we have everyone's attention again," Mr. Morrison continued with a smirk, "there's going to be a quiz on chapters eleven and twelve tomorrow. Study and do well. Don't study, don't care and maybe fail. Everyone is dismissed." He waved good-bye before wiping off the blackboard.

Letting the class empty ahead of her, Storey took her time to collect her stuff. The last thing she wanted was to attract any more attention.

"Nice pencil. Can I see it?" Eric's long, black, jean-clad legs showed up beside her desk as she crouched to repack her overstuffed backpack.

Storey snatched the pencil off her seat where she'd set it and slipped it into the side pocket of her bag before zipping it shut. "It's a pencil. Nothing special."

Eric studied her face. "An art pencil?"

"Nope. Just a pencil."

He raised his left eyebrow. "Then why won't you let me take a look at it?" He waited another moment. "Where did you get it? I'd kinda like one for myself."

"Check the stores. I'm sure someone will carry it." Storey turned and walked out of the classroom.

Paying attention during school had been impossible with memories of her crazy, late-night outing running through her brain. She'd made it home from the mine that morning and raced to her bedroom, only to discover the undamaged sketchbook still lying where she'd thrown it on the floor. She'd stood stunned in her open doorway. No gaping hole in the floor, no damage even.

Of course there wasn't. It couldn't be any other way. Still she couldn't reconcile what had actually happened in her mind. Finding escape in running away, she'd grabbed a change of clothes, a bite to eat and had left for school without waking up her mother. She'd needed time to think. Time to assess what the hell had happened. And why.

All the while, she'd questioned Eric's opportune arrival at the mine entrance. It's not like he'd offered an explanation for his presence there at that hour. Then again, neither had she. Still, as much as she appreciated the rescue, his arrival outside the mine entrance had unlikely coincidence written all over it. She didn't believe in those. Ever.

He was up to something.

Shaking her head, Storey glanced behind her to make sure she was truly alone before racing the last leg home.

Her mother might be a little odd in the eyes of the town folk, but she'd done one thing right – she'd taught Storey common sense. Storey's instincts screamed at her about Eric. He was too good-looking, too interesting and too interested in her to be normal. He was...
different
. Good different or bad different? Too early to tell.

She knew one thing – she wanted to go back into the mine.

Apprehension wafted through her. Okay, so maybe she didn't
want
to go back into the mine. It was more like she
had
to go back in.

Home loomed in front of her. With it came a sense of awe. A sense of joy. A grin split her face. She, Storey Dupont, had a door into a mine shaft through her bedroom floor. She didn't know how and she sure as hell didn't know why, but there it was. And she was going to go through it again – soon.

Well, after a snack and picking up a few supplies.

In the kitchen, she threw back a tall glass of water and opened the cupboard. There were fruit snacks in there somewhere.

"Storey?" Her mom wandered into the room, dressed in lounging pants and a camisole, rubbing sleep from her eyes. Jesus. It was three in the afternoon. Her assistant must be watching the store.

"There you are. Are you all right?"

"Of course, I'm fine, Mom. Why?"

"Well, Gina called this morning and mentioned that she saw you walking very early this morning with a boy."

Storey glanced over at her mom and caught her deep blue gaze – not accusing Storey, exactly. At least not yet.

"And I know you were in bed last night because we spoke."

Storey turned back to the cupboard without responding. Great. Someone had spotted her and had tattled already. About Eric no less.

After a moment, her mother continued, her voice forced into light casualness. "She was pretty sure she'd recognized you." She cleared her throat. "Did you leave the house early? Without saying anything?" She hesitated. "And with a boy?"

Distracted, Storey struggled to find an answer.

"Storey?"

Storey had to give herself a shake. "Yes, I woke up early and thought I'd go out for a walk. You were asleep when I got back, so I got ready for school and left."

"Oh. Uhm. You're not trying to exercise at that hour, are you?" Her mother moved closer, reaching out a hand to Storey's arm. She peered up into Storey's eyes. "I know you've had a tough couple of months since Jeff moved away, and I know you want to be like the other girls and all, but you're getting so skinny. I'm worried. You're almost anorexic."

"What? No, I'm not. Look, I couldn't sleep so I went down to the creek to watch the sunrise." She reached out and gave her mom a quick hug. "I'm fine. I eat. Honest." Storey hoped the conversation would die a natural death at this point. Her mom had spent most of Storey's preteen years trying to make her 'see the light' in one matter or another.

Storey had always preferred the dark, which might account for her need to get back into that blackness.

She still hadn't figured that trip out. She wanted to try it again, but to enter from the mine side so she could have her exit ready and have the benefit of daylight inside. If Eric had been able to open the door, she should be able to as well. What was the chance of the mine having power and working lights? And then, after checking it out thoroughly from that side, she'd try going through the floor again.

"I have to go out for a bit. What time is dinner? I promise, I'll be home and I'll eat."

"Around six. Where are you going?"

"Just downtown. Maybe buy a new pair of jeans." Like hell. She hated shopping. Still, she had to find some excuse.

"Do you need money?" Her mother brightened at the mention of such a normal, girlie activity. She reached for her purse and pulled out a couple of twenty dollar bills. "Here. I can't think of the last time you asked me for some. You're such a good kid."

Storey knew better than to answer that statement. Pocketing the money, she thanked her mom and headed back outside. She started walking in the direction of the mall. Once out of sight of her home, she changed course and retraced the route she'd taken home with Eric that morning. She knew the area vaguely. When she came to the gravel road, she knew she was on the right track. In her mind, she'd half doubted that the door would even be there. Rounding the bend, she stopped in relief. There it was. She ran the last few yards. At the entrance, she looked around and frowned. This was too accessible. Shouldn't they have made this entrance more secure? To stop kids from going inside.

She tried the door knob. Locked.

No surprise. She opened her backpack and pulled out a thin metal tool she'd gotten from Jeff months ago. They'd watched this cool video that had demonstrated how to pick locks. She'd tried it on her own house and had managed it with both a bobby pin and a credit card. This wire thingy was the best.

Bending down, she studied the side of the knob. This door had a different locking mechanism than the one at home. She frowned. This might not work. She played with the steel pick for several moments, then switched to using her bank card. Still, it wouldn't open. Frustration mounted. She wanted in. Damn it. She studied the surrounding area.

Eric had gotten in. If he could get in, then so could she. Ten minutes later, she had to give it up. The damn thing wouldn't budge.

Hands fisted on her hips, she considered her options. Should she go home and try to enter from her room again? With a flashlight, she should be able to find the door from inside the mine.

This method certainly wasn't getting her anywhere.

The return trip home was fast. She slipped onto the back porch and into the kitchen without letting her mom know. She hurried to her room. Gathering up a piece of chalk and a bottle of water, she searched for her flashlight, finally locating it under the bed. At the last minute, she snatched up her hoodie and checked that she had her cell phone...just in case. Turning her attention to the sketchbook on her floor, she hooked her backpack on her shoulder. Taking a deep breath, Storey hopped onto the bed, stared down at the picture in front of her...and jumped.

She landed on the floor. "Damn it." Scrambling back up onto her bed, she tried again. Nothing. What was wrong? And if it worked once it would work twice. So what was different this time? She considered this issue while standing on her bed, looking down. She'd been scared and angry last time, could that have made the difference? If so, she was getting pretty damned pissed just thinking about it now. She jumped. Nothing. Feeling like an idiot, she climbed up and said, "Open sesame." Then jumped.

Nothing.

Shit
.

This was ridiculous. "Why is it not working?" She sat on the edge of her bed, picked up the book and studied the sketch. She bolted upright. "What the hell?"

The door in her sketch was no longer open. Somehow, though her hand hadn't touched a pencil to paper, the door in her drawing now appeared closed.

She hadn't done it herself. Whatever had opened the door – had closed the door. That's why she couldn't get in anymore. The damned door was closed.

Reaching into the backpack, she grabbed up her pencil and tried to make the door in her sketch look open. The pencil wouldn't touch the paper. She flipped to a new page, and tried to copy the sketch onto the fresh paper, only this time with the door open. Except the pencil had a mind of its own and drew the door closed.

Storey sat back.

What was going on here?

Magic?

Satanism?

Surely not. Her mother dabbled in Wiccanism...could she have done something dangerous? Not likely. The religion was all about good not evil – no matter what people thought. The sunlight shone through her bedroom window, brightening the room, making it hard to think on dark and supernatural factors in the face of so much light. She glanced back down at her book. The light shone on the picture, giving it an odd look. Twisting the sketchbook around, she flicked it up and down in the sunbeam. Nothing changed. Her pencil flashed.

She held it up in the weird light. Though it was old and kind of ratty, the kinship she'd felt with it had only strengthened with time. It flashed again. What was that? She bent closer, trying to see what was inscribed on the side. She hadn't even noticed it before. She twisted it slowly in the light. There.

It was some kind of script.

Storey tried to read it. She twisted it around and around. The writing faded when not in the sunlight. In the light, the writing etched itself in as if by some unseen hand.

"So cool," she murmured. "What does it mean?"

And how could she find out? Grabbing a different pencil, she tried to copy the script down on a piece of scrap paper. It took several tries at holding it in the light to get it just right. The inscribed lines didn't appear to be words, per say, or at least not in any language she'd seen before. Numbers? Dates? She didn't know. Taking the scrap of paper downstairs to her mom's computer, she scanned it in, then dragged the image to her flash drive. Back upstairs, she searched the Internet for ancient fonts and languages.

BOOK: Dangerous Designs
9.65Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Dirty Power by Ashley Bartlett
Internal Affair by Samantha Cayto
Ice Kissed by Amanda Hocking
The Boyfriend Bylaws by Susan Hatler
Ralph S. Mouse by Beverly Cleary
Paige and Chloe by Aimee-Louise Foster
Firefly Rain by Richard Dansky
Dusk (Dusk 1) by J.S. Wayne
Crowned by Fire by Nenia Campbell