Dark Days (12 page)

He opened a closet door and pulled on a shelf to reveal a hidden door and a spiral staircase running through the building.

“Cool, isn't it?” he said when he saw my reaction.

“Amazing,” I said. “Where's it go?”

He flashed a big smile. “Have you ever heard of the catacombs of CCNY?”

“No?”

“That's good,” he said as he started making his way down the stairs. “We like to keep them a secret.”

The staircase was the color of tarnished brass and seemed to descend forever as I followed the professor all the way to the bottom. There we reached a long narrow tunnel cut into the Manhattan schist. The walls were close enough so I could reach out and touch both sides at the same time. It's a good thing I'm only scared of heights, because if I were claustrophobic I might have passed out.

“Stay close,” he said as he motioned for me to follow. “The lighting's bad and you do not want to get lost down here.”

“You got that right,” I replied as I hurried to keep up with his pace.

As far as freaky scary elements go, the tunnel had plenty. The lights were dim and spaced far enough apart so that you had to walk through pools of total darkness every twenty feet or so. But that was nothing compared to the otherworldly rumbling and hissing noises that passed overhead at regular intervals. The professor assured me that although they sounded like a phantom army of disembodied souls coming to attack us, they were actually caused by something much more mundane.

“Steam pipes,” he explained, pointing toward the ceiling. “They heat up the buildings on campus.”

“They do a good job on the tunnel, too,” I replied, wiping the sweat from my forehead. “It's like a rainforest down here.”

Soon we veered into a mazelike series of brick passageways. I tried to memorize the turns but quickly lost track. I was hopelessly confused by the time we dead-ended into a wall with three large pipes running along it. Each pipe had a valve control that looked like a steering wheel, and hanging from each wheel was a metal sign reading,
CAUTION—EXTREME HEAT
.

“This is where it gets tricky,” he said ominously.

I nodded back toward the path we just traveled. “You mean all of that wasn't tricky?”

He laughed.

“Okay, this is where it gets
trickier
. Two of these are release valves. If you turn either one, it will let off a steam blast that can be as hot as four hundred degrees.”

“So I'm guessing we don't want to turn those,” I said.

“No we don't,” he said. “But if any of Marek's men ever made it this far and they were trying to locate what I'm about to show you . . .”

“They wouldn't be able to tell which one wasn't real,” I said, finishing his sentence. “Because they can't feel the heat on the pipes.”

“That's right,” he said. “You're good at this.”

He turned the middle wheel and I reflexively braced for a blast of steam, but instead there was only the sound of a door opening. The wheel was actually a giant doorknob, and when he pushed on it, that portion of the brick wall opened to reveal a large laboratory.

“Welcome to the
Workshop
,” he said with dramatic flair.

The lab looked like something out of an old Frankenstein movie but modern. It was as if someone had taken the scientific equipment of a century ago and partially updated it so that it seemed both antique and new at the same time. Across the room two scientists were working on an experiment. They wore thick white lab coats and aviator-style safety goggles with blue lenses. It took me a moment to recognize that one of them was my mother.

“Molly!” she said as she took off the goggles. “I knew you'd figure out the clue.”

She hurried over and wrapped me up in a huge hug. For a moment I closed my eyes and ignored our surroundings. It was just my mother and me, and I needed this more than anything.

“What is this place?” I asked, admiring at it all.

“We call it the Workshop,” she said. “It's where we do research and planning. I guess you could say that it's Omega's headquarters.”

As her lab partner approached and took off his goggles, I realized that it was Dr. Gootman, or rather the man I knew as Dr. Gootman when he was principal at MIST. I later learned he was actually Milton Blackwell, one of the so-called Unlucky 13, the original zombies who became undead when an explosion killed the crew digging the city's first subway tunnel. He founded Omega to keep his brother Marek and the other eleven from getting out of control.

“Hi, Dr. Gootman . . . or should I call you Mr. Blackwell . . . or is it Dr. Blackwell?”

“Let's go with Milton.”

“Okay,” I said, feeling both cool and awkward at the same time. “Milton.”

“You're the first one to arrive,” Mom said. “So why don't I show you around while we wait for the others?”

“There are others coming?” I asked, surprised. “The code on the flyer said you wanted me to come alone.”

“We did want you to come alone,” she said. “If all of you were together, your trackers would have set off an alarm.”

“What do you mean?”

“The radio frequency ID tags they put on you and the rest of your team,” she said. “They're not only designed so that Marek's men can find you but also to let them know if you are working together. If any three of the trackers are in the same location other than at school, it sets off an alarm.”

“That's why we sent each of you a separate message to lead you to different starting points across the city,” said Milton. “It took a lot of planning, but it was necessary, because we can't let Marek find out about this lab. We still have too much work to do.”

I looked up at him and suddenly felt panicked.

“Does that mean you invited Natalie? Here?”

Mom gave me a confused look. “Of course we did. We invited your whole team so we can give you all your new assignment.”

This was bad news. If I was right and Natalie was a Level 2, then her learning the location of Mom and Milton's hideout would be a disaster.

“I don't know if that's a good idea,” I said.

“Why not?” asked Mom.

Before I could explain, the door opened and Natalie entered with Liberty, who had been her guide like Dr. Stimola was mine. They, of course, had no idea I was just questioning her invitation, so they were all friendly smiles when they came through the door.

“Okay,” Natalie said, marveling at the lab. “This may be the coolest place on earth.”

“Thank you,” said Milton. “I'm pretty fond of it myself.”

All of my worlds were colliding, and I was desperately trying to keep calm about it. Somehow I had to tell Mom about my suspicions. She'd know what to do. I turned to talk to her, but Liberty intercepted me and gave me a big hug.

“Hey, Molly, happy belated birthday.”

“Thanks,” I said.

“Thirteen, right?” he said.

“Let's just hope it's not unlucky thirteen.”

I tried to break free from the little conversation, but before I could, Natalie had come over to my mother.

“Where are we exactly?” she asked her. “I tried to keep track of where Liberty was leading me, but I got it all turned around in my head.”

Natalie didn't know our exact location and that was good. I didn't give Mom a chance to tell her. Instead, I interrupted and changed the subject.

“What was your clue?” I asked Natalie. “I'm supposedly at a lecture on the birds of Central Park at CCNY.”

The sudden change of subject caught her off guard, but one of the advantages of being socially awkward (which I am times a thousand) is that people are used to odd transitions. Rather than wait for an answer to her question, she answered mine.

“I'm at a lecture too,” she replied. “It's at the Museum of Natural History, where I'm listening to excruciatingly in-depth analysis of STS-135, the final mission of the space shuttle.”

I gave her a confused look. “That was a clue?”

“Since it was the shuttle's last flight, the mission logo was an Omega symbol,” she explained.

“And you knew that?”

She smiled sheepishly. “Doesn't everyone?”

Like I said, my worlds were colliding. Here she was, my best friend, a total genius, and I was trying to figure out whether or not she was the enemy.

“So why are we here?” Natalie asked with anticipation. “Are we getting a new assignment?”

“Yes,” my mom said. “We want you to—”

“Wait,” I said, interrupting again. “We should wait for Grayson and Alex to get here before we talk about anything. That way we'll make sure we all have the same information and there won't be any confusion. And while we're waiting, Mom, I thought you and I might talk for a second . . . alone.”

As I moved toward Mom, Natalie looked over at the collection of test tubes and beakers where Milton and my mother had been working.

“What kind of experiments are you working on?” she asked him.

I started to interrupt again, but I didn't really have anything to say. Natalie was frustrated. She started to ask, “Is there a reason you don't want me to . . .” and then she stopped midsentence as she figured it out. The whole room got quiet, and she looked me right in the eyes.

“You know, don't you?” she asked.

“Know what?” I said, trying to play dumb.

“You know exactly what I mean,” she said.

I nodded. “Yes,” I said softly, “I know.”

“When did you figure it out?”

“The day after my birthday, when I came to visit you,” I said.

“But you didn't ask me about it.”

I shrugged. “I tried to, but I couldn't do it. I kept hoping you would tell me.”

She was quiet for a moment, thinking back to that day.

“I almost did,” she said. “But I was worried about how you'd take it. I don't mean you specifically, but the three of you. I was especially worried about Alex.”

I hate to say it, but I was worried about Alex too. More than any of us, he's distrustful of the undead. It took him way longer to warm up to Liberty than it did the rest of us, and I wasn't sure how he'd respond to finding out about Natalie.

“I would have kept your secret,” I said. “In fact, I did keep it. I haven't told anyone. Not even Mom.”

“It wasn't a secret to her.”

I looked over at my mother.

“The three of us have known since New Year's,” she said, nodding toward Milton and Liberty. “We've been working with her and trying to help her adjust to her new life. It's hard, but she's been doing great. I'm really proud of her.”

I had only seen my mother once since New Year's and Natalie had seen her multiple times. I'd be lying if I said it didn't hurt my feelings. I understand that Natalie was in an incredibly difficult situation and needed help, but I needed help too. I wanted her to be proud of me, too.

“We thought she should be the one to decide when it was the right time to tell you guys,” said Liberty. “I know first hand how difficult that can be.”

“That makes sense,” I said.

“But I don't understand why you don't want them to tell me where we are or what they're working on, just because I'm undead,” she said. “Everyone in this room is, except for you. It shouldn't be a problem.”

I didn't know what to say, so I just kept quiet and looked right at her.

“Unless you think I'm a Level 2.”

I didn't say yes, but I didn't say no either. I just kept looking at her and watched her face fill with sadness.

“That's it, isn't it?” she asked. “You think I'm an L2.”

All eyes were on me, but too much was at stake to do anything but tell the truth.

“Yes, I do.”

I
t was terrible. I had just completely devastated my best friend, and I did it right in front of the people who mattered the most to us both. I'd accused her of being a Level 2 zombie. Which is another way of saying I'd accused her of being the enemy. She didn't respond. She just looked like she was about to cry.

“Why would you think that?” asked Mom.

First I hadn't liked the fact that Mom and Natalie had been working together. Now I didn't like that it seemed like she was taking Natalie's side.

“Somebody told Marek about our secret code,” I said pointedly. “Somebody told him that we left messages for each other on the Delacorte Clock. It wasn't me and it wasn't you. Natalie was the only other person who knew.”

“You think I told Marek?” Natalie asked, even more shocked than before. “You do realize he's the reason I'm in the condition I'm in? And that I've spent the last three years fighting him?”

“I'm confused,” said Milton. “What's this about a code and a clock?”

“The clock by the Central Park Zoo,” I told him. “It's where Mom and I agreed to leave messages for each other. Last Christmas Eve, I left one telling her to come to the ice skating rink at Rockefeller Center. Natalie discovered it and surprised us there. That's when she first found out that Mom was undead.”