The Vivisectionist (41 page)

“So what do you boys have on your agenda today?” asked Jack’s mom.

“Well, if it’s nice, we’d like to go outside,” said Jack. “But it’s up to you, mom. What do you think?”

“I think the weather is supposed to be good, so why don’t you go out and be back by lunch?”

“Okay, thanks,” said Jack.

Stephen took the juice that Jack’s mom offered and took a small sip. It tasted bad against the toothpaste flavor in his mouth, but he held it up to his face while he studied Jack. Stephen couldn’t tell if Jack was being sincere or not. He decided it didn’t matter; Jack's mom looked satisfied.

They ate in silence. Jack’s mom attempted to engage Stephen in conversation about his family, and school, but Stephen kept his answers short and eventually she stopped asking.

Jack finished first and cleared the table. “Thanks mom, that was great,” he said.

“Yeah, thanks Ms. Randolph.”

“It was my pleasure—you’re both very welcome,” she replied.

“You want to go upstairs for a little while?” Jack asked Stephen.

“Sure, Jack,” he followed Jack out of the kitchen and up to Jack’s room.

Jack closed the door behind them and went over to his dresser and opened his sock drawer.

“I want to take some of the letter money,” said Jack.

“What for?” asked Stephen.

“Just in case we have to buy something,” said Jack.

“Like what?”

“If I knew that, I’d probably tell you,” Jack smiled. Stephen didn’t trust Jack’s smiles lately.

“Okay,” he said. “I trust you’ll let me know at the time.”

“Oh yeah—you bet. Let’s get going, we have to be back by noon.”

Stephen packed up Ben's backpack—it was one of Jack’s old ones. It already had a bunch of appropriate gear, so it didn’t take long before he and Jack were on their way. Jack set a blistering pace, just short of a run, but Stephen kept up.

“Hey,” he called up to Jack. “What’s the deal with Ben? Looked like you didn’t want me asking about him in front of your mom.”

“Oh, I heard from him,” said Jack.

“Really? Why didn’t you say so—I want to talk to him.”

“We can call him later,” said Jack. “I didn’t want my mom to get all involved talking to Ben’s mom. My parents both think that she’s a bad mother, and I’m sure my mom will say something to piss her off. I just figured Ben could probably do without that right now.”

“Yeah, but you could have slipped the phone my direction,” Stephen argued.

“I’m sorry. I talked to him while you were asleep.”

“What, you were awake?” Stephen asked. “Don’t you sleep at all anymore?”

“Yeah,” said Jack. “I wish I didn’t sleep. It would sure help out over the school year.”

“Well, let’s call Ben when we get back,” said Stephen.

“No problem,” said Jack. “I’m psyched that we have an easy way in now.” Jack changed the subject.

“Yeah, that’s true,” affirmed Stephen. “What do you think is past that red room?”

“I think we’re almost to the end,” said Jack. “Probably not much further at all.”

“That would be good,” said Stephen. “The hotel is cool and all, but I kinda just want to see how the thing finishes.”

They walked from the woods path to the back of pasture behind the hotel, and Jack stopped when they got in sight of the hotel. Stephen paused and followed Jack’s eyes.

“It’s a big place,” said Jack. “There’s got to be a ton of extra space we haven’t even seen.”

“Do you think it's all crazy puzzles and traps?”

“I think it used to be a hotel way back,” said Jack. “But I think all that stuff was probably stripped out.”

“I wonder if your parents know anyone who stayed here?” pondered Stephen.

“My dad would be more likely to know someone who worked on something, you know, like an electrician or plumber or something,” said Jack.

“We should ask him about it,” said Stephen.

“No way—he would be too suspicious,” replied Jack.

They moved the brush and leaves, uncovering the step ladder and rope ladder and headed up the rocky drainage ditch to the side of hotel. Jack returned down the old grass path and looked for his fishing line trap  that he had stretched across the path. He couldn’t find it where he expected to see it, so he backed up towards the hotel, scanning both sides of the path.

Finally, about fifteen feet closer to the hotel than he expected, he found his line cast to one side of the path. He picked up the stick and followed the line to where it should have been tied to the other stick, but he found only a snapped end. Jack glanced back at Stephen who was climbing up the ladder to get on top of the porch roof.

Scouting around, Jack found another stick and tied off the other end. He trotted back down the path and reset it. A sound in the woods grabbed his attention and he looked up.

Everything was still a bit wet from a rain shower that morning. Earlier, Jack had sat on the floor in his room, listening to the rain coming down and waiting for Stephen to wake up so they could return to the hotel. Now that he was finally back at the hotel, the woods distracted him. Across the field, the surrounding forest looked like a wall. The wet trunks of the trees were black and seemed to absorb the weak morning light. Jack backed slowly to the hotel and ascended the ladder to join Stephen.

“Did you see something out there?” asked Stephen.

“Nope—why?” answered Jack.

“No reason, I just thought you were looking at something.”

“Nah, just thinking that I hope it doesn’t rain more. The woods are so wet,” said Jack.

“You want to go first?” asked Stephen.

“Sure,” said Jack.

Stephen held the button for Jack so he could open the hidden door, and then handed the rope-ladder up to him. After he climbed over the edge, Stephen turned around and studied the woods. He heard something out there, like a cough, and he thought that Jack had heard it too. Stephen had also caught a glimpse of Jack surreptitiously resetting his fishing line. He wondered how much he could trust Jack.

Stephen climbed up the step ladder and through the hatch to the rope ladder. Several feet down the vertical passage, he found the secret panel to the vent that Jack had propped open. The transfer was trickier this direction—the ladder kept moving and he couldn’t figure how to push off from the wall.

He heard Jack’s voice from down the passage — “Hey! You coming?”

“Yeah,” called Stephen. “I can’t figure out how to get in the vent.”

“Just jump at it,” said Jack from the dark.

“Yeah, right,” mumbled Stephen. He took off his pack with one hand and shoved it down the vent. Placing one foot against the opposite wall of the shaft, he could push off that foot and slide his torso. He didn't kick hard enough and he found himself half in the vent and half dangling over the edge. Stephen braced his hands against the sides and tried to pull himself forward. His belt caught on the lip and he couldn’t pull himself in. Flailing behind him, his legs didn't reach the other side of the shaft.

Stephen pushed up to wriggle his hips over the lip, but he slipped backwards. He thought about the drop to the room with the anatomical painting. He thought it must be about twenty feet—not enough to kill him unless he landed wrong, but certainly worth a broken leg.

He braced his arms again, but now his muscles heated up and he feared they would start to give out.

“Jack?” Stephen said. “I’ve got a problem here.” He figured it was useless to call—Stephen knew from experience that the vent was too small to turn around in. His left arm began to tremble and his friction-grip was about to slip. Arching his back, he turned his head to see how far back the rope ladder was. Maybe he could grab that on his way down.

A hand shot out of the dark and grabbed his left wrist. Stephen was so surprised that he let go of the wall.

“Give me your other hand!” ordered Jack.

Stephen reached forward and caught Jack’s other hand.

“Pull!” said Jack.

Once he had something to pull against, Stephen could wriggle himself into the vent. He didn't breathe until he had reached safety.

He dug into his bag and got out his flashlight. Jack stared at him when he turned on his light.

“You almost fell,” said Jack.

“Yeah, thanks,” answered Stephen. “How did you know to come back?”

“I just figured.”

“Well good thing for me,” said Stephen.

“For both of us,” said Jack. “It would have been a bitch explaining your disappearance to my mom,” he said.

“Oh, that's your biggest concern? Very funny,” said Stephen.

Jack backed away, down the tight passage. Stephen took a deep breath and waited for his heart to slow before following him. At the next corner, Jack turned and they continued to the ladder.

Back in the room with the red portraits, Jack hardly looked at the paintings. The red lights were still on, and Stephen jumped down from the ladder and turned off his flashlight. He followed Jack over to the wall with the light switch and the door.

“Think it’s a trick?” Stephen asked.

“What, like the door’s wired, or something?” asked Jack. “No, I think it’s just a regular door. I think we finished the puzzles and traps.”

“That would be cool,” replied Stephen.

“I could be wrong, but that last trap was pretty deadly, I mean it could have chopped off my hand. Then right after that we had to trust that next passage not to kill us when the bars started coming down. It’s like he was saying ‘You made it past that, so now you have to trust me,’” Jack said.

“Yeah? So open it,” Stephen said, pointing to the door.

“Okay,” Jack reached forward and turned the handle. He pulled the door open and they saw a long, carpeted hallway. A half-dozen sconces lit the hall and showed them ten doors, five on each side. About halfway down the right wall, a fire-extinguisher hung between two doors.

Mounted on the dark-green wall, next to each door, was a three-digit number. Jack strode down to one-forty-six, the first door on his left.

“Locked,” Jack announced.

“This is really creepy,” said Stephen. “It looks like a normal hotel—like someone could walk out of one of these rooms at any second.”

Jack crossed the hall while Stephen waited from the threshold of the portrait room. Jack checked that door and moved down to check the next. Four doors later he turned and called out to Stephen, “This one is open—come on.”

Stephen looked back to the portrait room. He felt like he was being watched. He stepped into the hallway and shut the door to the portrait room most of the way, but didn’t latch it. He wanted a quick escape route, if he should need it.

Walking down this perfectly normal hallway, it was hard for Stephen to imagine he was still in the same building. Somehow it felt like the hotel was
pretending
 to be normal in this hall, and that made it more sinister. Stephen thought about mentioning this to Jack, but then held back when he saw the look on Jack’s face. His friend appeared enthusiastic about this discovery.

“Ready?” asked Jack.

“I guess,” said Stephen.

Jack turned the handle and pressed open the door. It was spring-loaded and he had to reach into the dark room to open it all the way. Stephen flipped the switch and overhead lights came on, revealing the room.

The carpet was dark tan, and the walls were papered in a mute pattern of light-green and gold. Red curtains covered the entire far wall. Jack crossed to one of the beds and Stephen caught the door before it closed. He took off Ben's backpack and used it to prop open the door and then followed Jack in.

“Hey!” exclaimed Jack. “The remote is glued to the nightstand.”

Jack pressed the power button and the television on the bureau came to life. It showed channel two with the volume all the way down.

“We've got cable,” laughed Jack. “This is 
awesome.
”

“So does your house,” Stephen said. He poked his head in the bathroom and turned on the light. The bathroom had no dust and looked freshly scrubbed. His curiosity was rising and Stephen indulged it by pulling a towel from the rack and smelling it. He took it out to where Jack sat on one of the beds. “I think someone has been here. Recently,” he said, as he held up the towel.