by Ben Farthing
Roberts mumbled and inspected his fingers. They weren't bleeding, but Chris clearly saw they were missing after the last knuckle.
Micah emerged from the bathroom. Her reddish gray hair was frazzled, and mascara smudged around her eyes.
Roberts stated the obvious. "They don't want us breaking anything."
Chris eyed the exit.
"Don't try it," Micah spat.
Roberts' head shot up, eyes narrowed. Even after losing body parts to an otherworldly creature, the man wielded his bulk like a sledgehammer.
The time to flee had passed. Chris had missed his shot.
39
This couldn't be real.
Chris stayed pressed against the wall.
Architectural mysteries were one thing. It was another thing to see up close these monsters that appeared and disappeared, and magically repaired damage to the building, and lifted their faces like garage doors to set loose tentacles that dissolved fingertips.
Roberts inspected his shortened fingers. "I can't feel a thing in my hand."
Micah leaned on a table to catch her breath. "Did it inject you with an anesthetic?"
Their stoicism was infuriating. "Maybe it sucked away his nerve endings! How can you be so calm about this? We need to get out of here."
"We've been over this," Micah said, evenly.
And they had. Chris had tried everything. He couldn't escape a man with Roberts' size and speed, and he couldn't convince Micah to leave. Until another opportunity came up, he was stuck.
But so was Micah's plan.
"You can't dig through the floor," Chris said. "So what now?"
"We continue upwards," Micah said.
Chris threw up his hands. "Until what?"
"Until we find the purpose of this building," Roberts said. "It's worth the risk for the good it might do."
Chris shook his head. "You keep saying that, but this building isn't like the others. There's no single new thing. It's a different mind-fuck on each floor."
"This must be how it looked," Micah said, "when they explored the original Tremont House in Idaho. The equipment on the ground floor, the ductwork through the walls, the frigid temperature even in summer. They were pieces of a whole."
"Then you tell me what great invention requires squiggly flashing colors on everything, and that mini sun, and now this gut cleanse." Chris picked up the laxative capsule for emphasis.
"I don't know," Micah said. "But the more we see of it, the clearer the answer will become."
Chris broke open the capsule. "I don't see anything special here. It looks like the green stuff in laxatives." He'd had a thought before the lurchers attacked, something about a discussion with his therapist. But adrenaline chased it away.
It would come back.
Micah sipped from a glass of water on the table. "This is just water. I don't know the purpose of this room. It may make sense once we see more of the picture."
Chris realized how thirsty he was and downed the glasses from three different tables. He'd been in here too long. He checked his phone. Still no service. "If you're insisting on risking our lives, let's get on with it, so I can get back to finding my boy."
They headed for the glass door they'd come through.
Through the glass partition with the hallway, Chris saw a small man walking in the shadows. He wore faded jeans and dull camouflage jacket.
Leon.
40
Eddie couldn't figure out what he was seeing.
He and Cam had searched more offices, and now they'd just entered the twentieth floor. Twenty-first? Eddie wasn't sure. Everything was blending together.
The lights were all off.
Cam got out her phone and turned on the flashlight.
The wide beam of light fell on a toppled cubicle's walls. A crooked chair with broken wheels sat next to an upside-down desk.
"This don't make no sense," Cam whispered. "This is a brand new building. Someone already came in and smashed it up? And why'd they pick this floor?"
Eddie turned on his own flashlight app. The whole floor was smashed up. He didn't want to search here. Not in the dark. "Let's go to another floor. I don't know any hiding spots here. The game didn't have any rooms like this."
Eddie pointed his flashlight behind a cubicle wall that leaned on a desk. He didn't see anywhere to look, anyways.
He realized Cam hadn't responded. His gut sank. She'd probably want to search this creepy place. And if he wanted her stick around, he'd have to search it, too. He turned to look at her.
Her lips were tight and her eyes were wide. "What game?"
Eddie could tell she was mad, but he didn't know about what. "Treasure Hunter X. I play it with Chris."
Cam rubbed her forehead. "There's a skyscraper in this game?"
"Level three. I know all the hiding spots."
"Sixth floor, behind a painting." Cam's voice grew cold. "Ninth floor, in a floor-safe under a rug."
Eddie took a tentative step toward Cam. He wanted her to tussle his hair again, so he'd know she still saw how helpful he was. "That's how I knew where to look. Me and Chris did it in the game."
Cam turned away. She pressed her forehead against the doorframe. She exhaled loudly.
Eddie's squeezed his hands closed. He wanted to hug her, even though she wasn't his old mom or Sherri or Chris or even all the way an adult.
She wasn't happy his hiding spots came from Treasure Hunter X. Hadn't he told her? He must not have.
The moths in his belly went crazy. This was worse than the strange man downstairs reaching across the room.
"I was trying to be helpful," he whispered. She'd said that didn't matter, and he'd almost believed her. But now that he wasn't helpful, she was angry.
When Cam pulled away from the doorframe, she looked as mad as Mom's old boyfriend. "A video game! What if we'd been in a car chase? Would you be throwing banana peels?"
Eddie bit his lip so it wouldn't quiver. He was too old to cry.
"This is real life, kid! That man down there wanted to hurt us."
"I'm sorry," Eddie choked out. "I thought I told you."
Cam's flashlight glistened in the tears that welled in Eddie's eyes. The creepy office went blurry.
Cam exhaled loudly again.
Eddie winced. "I'm not making excuses! I'm sorry."
Cam's face relaxed. "Excuses? Does somebody tell you to stop making excuses? This guy Chris?"
Eddie shook his head. "My mom."
"Your old mom. What would Chris say?"
Eddie shrugged. He wiped away snot with the back of his hadn't, then rubbed it on his jeans. "I don't know." He'd always been super helpful with Chris. But now that Chris was going to be Dad forever, Eddie didn't know how long he could keep it up. When Eddie made everything a cluster, what would Chris say?
Cam crouched down.
Eddie ran forward to hug her.
"Whoa." She went stiff, but Eddie squeezed her tighter until she hugged him back. "Okay. This is fine. But kid, what's with the waterworks? Didn't your old mom get mad at you? Sometimes people yell. It's not a big deal."
Eddie didn't know how to explain that after Mom got upset, she'd disappear inside her room for the rest of the day. Sometimes until tomorrow or the next day.
Eddie squeezed tighter.
"Okay you little anaconda." Cam gently pushed away to look in his face. She wiped his tears with her sleeve. "You definitely forgot to tell me that the hiding spots were from a video game. I thought you said the man in your driveway told Chris about them."
He shook his head.
"But this man, he was real, right? Not from a video game?"
Eddie nodded. "They didn't know I was outside, but I listened the whole time."
"And he said there was treasure inside this building? Did he say the word 'treasure?'"
Eddie tried to remember exactly what the man had said. He knew that Chris was angry at the man. Angrier than Eddie had ever seen him. But he was sure of what he'
d heard. "The man said that Chris couldn't keep staying in his house unless he found what's in here. I think he said money. Or maybe something worth a lot of money."
"Your new dad's behind on his rent?"
"I think Sherri makes more money, and she left."
"That sucks."
Eddie nodded. He didn't miss Sherri as much as Mom, but he did miss her.
Cam sat down. "Let's think for a minute."
Eddie pointed his flashlight around the dark open space. He tried not to imagine what might be hiding behind the smashed up furniture.
"We've been looking in the wrong places. It's not about your video game. It's figuring out where someone would keep their valuables in an office building."
Eddie watched Cam think out loud. She hardly seemed to notice him.
"Maybe in a safe in the basement? But I'm not going down there again."
Eddie couldn't believe she wasn't still mad at him. She wasn't locking herself behind a door. Even though he hadn't been helpful. He'd been maybe the most unhelpful he'd even been--they'd been at this all morning, and they were doing it wrong because of him. But Cam wasn't angry anymore.
"You'd think there'd be safes in the biggest offices, where the rich managers work. But we didn't find any. So it's gotta be like one key location. Where do the richest people stay in a skyscraper?"
Eddie didn't get it. Adults wanted you to be helpful. If you blew it, then why would they need you around? Technically, Cam wasn't an adult yet. But Eddie didn't think that was the difference. When she turned eighteen, Cam wouldn't suddenly change her mind.
"If it were apartments, they'd stay in the penthouse. Is that the same for offices?"
Eddie guessed that Cam really did believe what she said earlier--that he didn't have to be helpful all the time. But even if it was true for Cam, that didn't mean it was true for other adults. It wasn't true for Mom. Definitely not for her old boyfriend. Except that didn't matter anymore.
The question now was whether Cam's theory was true for Chris. For Dad. Eddie would try to be helpful as long as he could, but at some point, he'd botch it. And then what would Chris do? Would he still want to be Dad?
So it didn't matter if Cam was right about some adults. Eddie couldn't risk it. He still had to be as helpful as possible. And right now, that meant finding the treasure - or the money, or whatever it was - to save Dad's house.
Cam paced in the dark. "I bet penthouses are a thing in office buildings, too. People want fancy views, even if they're at work, right? We gotta check the top floor. What do you think, Eddie?"
He nodded. Truth was, he didn't know where to look next. But Cam seemed confident. "I bet the treasure will be up there."
She pulled him to his feet. "That thing about security guards finding you in the elevator, that was in your game, right?"
Eddie nodded. He braced himself for her to get angry again.
"Perfect. We can take the elevator. Let's go find it." She looked around the dark room. "But let's go up one more floor first. Maybe the lights are on up there."
As Eddie followed Cam up the stairs, the thought came back of going deeper, even though they were headed up. And he liked it. Maybe this building was for him.
It wasn't empty, or full. It was exactly what it was meant to be. And it was for him.
41
Chris went to throw the door open to ask Leon where he'd been.
Roberts' stumpy fingers closed like a vice around his shoulder.
"What's he doing?" Micah asked.
The sterile light of the central room partially reflected off the inside of the glass wall. Reflections of the white tables and walls interrupted the view of the dark hallway.
Chris recognized Leon's profile. There was no doubt it was the building-hacker-turned-building-inspector. But then Leon stepped behind a reflection.
Chris pulled against Roberts. "I want to know where he's been. Did he run off to save you from paying me?"
Micah's bemused shock answered that question. "I don't have time to plot my way around saving a few hundred thousand dollars. I have no idea where he's been. The only errand I sent him on was to help you find the blueprints."
Roberts hushed them both. "Look," he whispered.
Leon stepped back out from behind the reflection of a table. He leaned forward as he walked, like he was dragging something heavy, or leaning into hurricane winds, but Chris couldn't see any physical impediment. Leon looked up, sniffed the air, and looked back over his shoulder.
He squeezed his eyes shut like a child watching a scary movie. He lowered his head. His body tensed hard enough that his neck quivered.
"What's he doing?" Micah whispered.
Roberts cupped a hand over her mouth. The large man held both Chris and Micah. He leaned against the glass to look up at the ceiling of the hallway. He shook his head and shrugged.
Finally, Leon opened his eyes to tentatively peer upwards. He silently gasped, dropped to the floor and covered his head. He rocked, again like a child after a nightmare.
"What's that sound?" Roberts whispered, barely audible.
Chris didn't hear anything. Not even Leon's obvious whimpering. But the closer he looked at Leon, the more seemed wrong. Scratches covered his fingers that now clenched the back of his head. Maybe it was the shadows, but his skin looked gray, and not from the dust that was smeared all over him.
"He needs help," Chris said.
Roberts snapped a hand over Chris's mouth. "Can't you hear that?"
Micah pried Roberts' hand from her face. "Do not treat me like a child," she hissed. "What are you claiming to hear?"
Roberts pushed her behind him. "I'm in charge until it's safe again."
Micah exhaled in frustration.
Chris pulled against Roberts, trying to see down the hallway. It was empty, as far as he could see.
Leon jerked three feet backwards. His face dragged on the tile floor, leaving a smear of blood. Keeping his face down, he crawled to his knees and inched forward again. He still strained like he was dragging something.
Chris couldn't leave him out there. He bit down on Roberts' damaged fingers.
No reaction.
He still had no feeling.
Chris moved just enough to free his mouth. He shouted, "Leon, we're in here!"
Leon's head snapped up. Eyes wide with hope, he looked right at Chris. Through Chris.
Roberts growled. He shoved Chris to the side and braced himself against the glass door.
Chris's shoulder absorbed the impact with the cold floor. He jumped to his feet, ignoring the pain. "Let him in. There's something wrong out there."
"That's why he's staying where he is."
Leon turned to crawl towards the inner room. Whatever he'd been dragging down the hallway now seemed to rotate with him. He still strained with each movement.
Roberts winced and covered his ears. "How can you stand that noise?"
Micah had circled around to watch Leon from the side. "What noise?"
"It sounds like a dialup modem in a bowl of jello. You don't hear it?"
Leon crawled closer to the door, almost in arms' reach now.
"Let him in!" Chris yelled again. He tackled Roberts' knees. Pain throbbed in his shoulder. The bodyguard barely flinched from the impact.
"He may have information to share," Micah said.
On the floor by the glass door that Roberts held shut, Chris was now at eye level with Leon.
Down the hallway, high above where the ceiling should have been, something shifted in the darkness. Something massive, larger than the tower.
Then Leon reached the glass. Blood dripped out of his nose. Tears smeared the dust on his cheeks. It was green. Leon locked eyes with Chris, finally seeing him. He reached for the glass between them.
Roberts stomped down between Chris and then glass, then shoved him backwards.
It saved Chris's life.
Leon's hand didn't stop at the glass. Like it had done for the lurchers, the glass sim
ply forgot that it should either hold stable or shatter. Instead, Leon's hand reached through like a projection.
In the white light of this central room, the discoloring of Leon's skin was more evident. It was gray as a toads', and unevenly coated in a green dust that reminded Chris of powdered candy.
Leon's arm followed, then his shoulder, and finally his face.
As his mouth appeared, his cries suddenly became audible.
His scream contained terror, pain, and hope. He moved his mouth and worked his tongue, but only gibberish came out.
Chris reached for him to drag him the rest of the way through.
Roberts kicked at Chris to keep him away. Only Chris's little finger touched Leon's hand.
Pain exploded in Chris's finger.
42
The world regressed to bright light and searing pain.
Where the light was omnipresent, the pain pulsed in rapid fire tidal waves from the little finger of Chris's right hand.
Leon's panicked face pierced the white light. He threw his head from side to side. Gusts of agony, timed to Leon's movement.
Leon's screams had bisected, taken on a second part.
Adrenaline kicked in.
Chris lurched backwards but his finger was jammed inside something. The attempt made the pain overwhelm his survival instincts. He tried to curl into a ball.
Suddenly, a face pressed against his. Micah cooed to him. "Let go. Relax your hand."
Something crashed. Roberts cursed. "He's still coming. Pull Chris back."
Thin arms under Chris's shoulders. Wiry fingers clasped across his chest.
The comforting whispers cleared Chris's head enough for him to look around.
Leon held tight to Chris's finger. The small man crawled toward him as Micah dragged him away.
Roberts knocked over a table onto Leon, who ignored it.
Leon reached for Chris's face with his other hand. Pale, gray fingertips filled Chris's vision.
A table leg knocked Leon's hand away.
"Keep pulling him," Roberts yelled, then moaned, "I'm sorry."
A slight scrape of metal on metal, a glint of steel. Roberts grabbed Chris's hand.
