by Scott Jarol
It would be a two-stage climb, first to the roof and then up the slender bell tower. Ezekiel leaned the ladder against the back wall, well out of sight. With each step, it bowed and bounced, threatening to launch him into the air. Halfway up, he tied one end of the rope to a rung and the other end to his waist. Near the top, he had to stop to wait for the ladder to stop shaking before he could climb the final rungs. It took all his remaining strength to heave himself up and over onto the gravel-covered roof. He landed hard, scraping his hands and cheek.
Next, he needed to get into the steeple, which had no external door. It could only be entered from the stairwell from inside the school, so he would need the ladder again. Fortunately, he’d prepared for that. He braced his knees against the parapet wall and tugged the rope hand over hand to haul up the ladder. When the tied rung reached the roof, the ladder teetered over the edge, half on and half off the roof. He dragged it into position.
The next climb up to the open belfry was trickier. The ladder was about three feet too short. To make things worse, it rocked and shook in the winds swirling around the tower. He needed a firm grip, so he removed his gloves and stuffed them into his pocket. His fingers were already chilled. Exposed to the night air, they began to numb almost immediately.
Near the top, he bounced a little to check his stability. The ladder appeared to stand firmly on the gravel surface of the roof two stories below. He still had a few feet to go beyond the top of the ladder. He braced himself with open hands against the brick wall and stepped up the last three rungs until he was perched on the top one, curling his toes inside his boots as if they could grip the crossbar. If he could move his hands without losing his balance, he would be able to just reach the opening of the bell tower.
He extended his right arm and hooked his fingers over the edge. They were too numb to feel the surface, but he could tell that they took some of his weight. That shift, though, threw the ladder out of balance. It pirouetted on one foot. He grabbed the ledge with his other hand just as the ladder tilted away like falling timber.
Ezekiel hung from the outside of the belfry by his frostbitten fingertips.
The cold drained his strength, and with numb hands, he knew he couldn’t hold on for long. There was nowhere else to go, so he pulled himself up until he could see over the edge. He thought he might hook his fingers over the back edge of the sill, but when he let go with his right hand, his body swung to the side, leaving him dangling by only his left hand.
As he looked between his feet, wondering which bones he’d break when he fell, a meaty hand wrapped around his wrist. Doc hoisted him into the tower.
Ezekiel said nothing. He knew it would be easier to get the QuARC back if Doc didn’t know what Dr. Willis had told him. First he’d find out what Doc was up to and then find out where he was keeping the QuARC.
“You shouldn’t be here,” said Doc.
“Nowhere else to go.” Ezekiel knew Doc wouldn’t ask him about going to North Star Laboratory, since he had tricked him into going there in the first place.
“Same here,” said Doc.
“Have you seen my mother?”
“Your mom and Margaux are camped out in the cellar.”
Hmm, were Margaux and Doc working together in some sort of alliance? “You brought them here?”
Doc shook his head. “Margaux. She takes care of things.”
“Let’s go, then.”
“We can’t go there right now,” said Doc.
“Why? What happened to my mother?” Ezekiel had left her outside all day without shelter and with almost no food. She could have frozen to death. Or, maybe just as bad, the Chairman could have come back.
“She’s fine. They’re all fine.”
“All? You said it was just Mother and Margaux.”
Doc was still not telling him something. Ezekiel started toward the main stairs.
“I mean both—they’re both fine,” said Doc. “You’re the one who looks bugged out.”
“There’s nothing wrong with me,” said Ezekiel, thinking this was one of Doc’s tricks. “Except I’m getting frostbite.”
They both stuffed their hands into their pockets.
“Yeah, yeah,” Doc said. “Gotta get inside. Let’s use the stairs, though. I better go first to make sure the coast is clear. Besides, I’m clumsier than you, and I don’t want to slip and drag us both down.”
Doc descended the steep stairs backward like a ladder.
At the bottom, he signaled Ezekiel to keep quiet and then opened the door for a peek.
From two steps up, Ezekiel looked over Doc’s shoulder. The hazy halo of a swinging lantern hollowed out a bubble in the dark corridor. Doc leaned back from the open slit as a wedge of flickering yellow light swept over them. Doc kept a toe in the door to prevent it from banging shut.
“The coast isn’t so clear.”
“That was Virgil,” whispered Ezekiel. “I wonder what he’s doing here?”
“Looking for you,” said Doc.
After Virgil passed and darkness covered them again, Doc opened the door and eased forward. Ezekiel followed so closely he accidentally stepped on Doc’s heels when Doc came to an immediate halt.
A face was looking back at them through the narrow opening.
“Who’s there?” asked the boy on the other side of the door.
Doc lurched backward, shutting the door and knocking Ezekiel over, backside on the lowest step.
“Hey Doc, is that you?” asked the voice through the door. “It’s me.”
“That’s not Virgil. Who is it?” asked Ezekiel.
Doc held his breath, his eyes went blank, and his face became pale. “Don’t move. I mean, not one step in any direction.”
Ezekiel tucked one foot underneath himself and prepared to stand up again.
“I mean it! Don’t move!”
What the heck? Ezekiel sank to his seat on the step again, confused. “We can’t just stay here.” He’d need to play along until he figured out Doc’s plan.
Doc had a wild look in his eyes, open wide, hardly blinking, as if one Doc had left and another had taken possession of his body. Dr. Willis may have been right about him.
“Going out there would be a very bad thing,” said Doc. “Worse than anything you can imagine.”
“Worse than how my father died?”
Doc took a long, deep breath and blew it out slowly before speaking again. “You’ve met my friend, the distinguished Dr. Nigel Willis. My fault, I suppose. I led you to his lair.”
“He says you’re crazy.” Ezekiel fought the almost overpowering urge to confront Doc with what he now knew about Doc and his father. He would wait for the moment Dr. Willis had promised.
“He may be right,” said Doc. “I’ve done some crazy stuff. That’s why you need to listen to me now.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” said Ezekiel.
“Sometimes the only way to undo crazy is more crazy. It’s a cosmic mystery. You dig?”
“Nope. Still not getting it.”
“No time to explain. Besides, I’m telling you I’m crazy, so you know I’m telling you the truth. You have to trust me.” He didn’t wait for Ezekiel’s agreement. “Cynthia will be in her Throne Room.” Doc used the students’ nickname for Cynthia’s office. “Find her, and I’m guessing you’ll find your QuARC. Count to sixty before you leave this spot, then go get it. Take it to Dr. Willis.”
“You mean you actually want me to take it to Dr. Willis?”
“Safest place for it. But you gotta wait until I’m gone. Otherwise bad things will happen. You’ll never know what hit you. And neither will anyone else for hundreds of miles in every direction.”
Doc slipped out the door and slammed it shut. Ezekiel nearly broke his nose trying to steal a look at the intruder.
Ezekiel tugged off his hat, crawled closer to the steel door, and pressed one ear against it. His skin nearly froze to the cold metal. He clenched his jaw and bore the pain, but all he heard was D
oc saying, “No one else, just me. I need your help.” Ezekiel forgot to count to sixty. Once the voices had faded, he scrambled to his feet and peeked out into the corridor, which now appeared abandoned.
Light radiated through the ventilation slits on one of the lockers. Before Ezekiel could get close enough to investigate, Virgil popped out, sucking in deep breaths after being cooped up in a stuffy locker with the oxygen-eating lantern flame.
Ezekiel stared at the gasping boy in front of him in utter confusion. If Virgil was still here, then who was with Doc?
Virgil hadn’t spotted Ezekiel yet. He peered down the hallway to make sure Doc was out of sight.
“Looking for something?” said Ezekiel from behind Virgil.
Virgil spun around. “But you just went . . . Doc . . . how . . . there?” He screeched, then dropped the lantern and ran. Ezekiel took off in pursuit.
The lantern wobbled and toppled over. Its glass chimney fragmented, spilling a puddle of flaming alcohol across the checkered linoleum floor.
Chapter 16
Westview Middle School Basement
Margaux’s bare feet moved silently across the cold, hard concrete. The underground passageway was lined with seven decades of accumulated junk: broken chairs and desks, a life-sized papier-mâché ox, the school’s mascot, rolled-up banners, posters, deflated soccer balls, cafeteria cutting boards and powerless mixers, and crates full of moldy school records. The students and faculty all called this the dungeon and had made up stories over the years about ghosts and other monsters, mostly to curb the curiosity of the younger kids to keep them from exploring. For Margaux, those stories had the opposite effect, and she spent countless hours haunting the darkness, as if in training for her own paranormal future.
Schrödinger popped to his feet, and scrambled into the dark corridor, barking.
Margaux had expected Doc to come for them as promised, but she hardly recognized the wild-eyed and panic-stricken man who emerged from the darkness. Doc must be having a bad night.
“Look who I found,” said Zeke.
Mrs. Kapopoulos emerged from the storage room. “David? Is that you?” she asked Doc.
Margaux looked from Zeke to Doc with relief. “So is it time to go?”
“Not yet. Not for you. Zeke and I gotta split. You have to find that other boy,” said Doc, signaling Margaux with his eyebrows not to mention the second Zeke by name in front of his mother. “When you do snag him, catch up to me.”
“Zekie’s not staying here with us?” asked Mrs. Kapopoulos.
“Zeke’s going to help me with something,” said Doc.
Mrs. Kapopoulos placed her hand on Doc’s arm. “Before you boys go, would you like some stew?”
“No time, Sarah,” Doc told her gently. “Maybe later.”
Margaux looked at Doc in surprise. “You know each other?”
“David—Doc—and Zeke’s father are best friends, partners,” Mrs. Kapopoulos said. She asked Doc, “You haven’t seen Dimitris, have you?”
“I’m afraid not. Not for a very long time, Sarah. If I do, I’ll remind him that you’re waiting for him.”
Margaux persisted. “Why do you call him David?”
“Dr. David Freeman,” said Mrs. Kapopoulos. “That’s his name.” She covered her mouth with her hand as if surprised. “I’ve been rude. I assumed you knew each other. Margaux, this is Zekie’s Uncle David—well, not really an uncle, but that’s what we called him when Zekie was little. David, this is Zeke’s friend Margaux. She’s letting us stay with her until Zekie gets our house back from that nice man, Mr. Thomas.”
“Doc, where are you going? How will we find you?” Margaux asked.
“Schrödinger will stay with you. He knows the way.”
“Zekie, you be sure to do whatever Uncle David asks,” Mrs. Kapopoulos said. “And if you happen to run into your father, tell him he’s working too hard and needs to come home.”
“Yes, Mom,” said Zeke.
What was real and what was not? Margaux looked at Doc inquisitively. Doc shook his head ever so slightly, and Margaux understood that Zeke’s father wasn’t coming back. Zeke, on the other hand, appeared to be no more sure than his mother of where his father had gone, and to him, all things were possible until they weren’t. And that was enough reason to keep an eye out.
Margaux turned to Mrs. Kapopoulos. “Mrs. K., I’m going to find someone. I’ll be right back.”
Mrs. Kapopoulos tried to hand her Thomas’s coat.
She shook her head. “You’ll need that. I’ll take mine. It’s dry now.”
It wasn’t. She wrapped herself in her damp coat like a cloak.
Doc and Zeke set off down the passageway, while she went back into the school to look for Ezekiel.
* * *
Zeke followed the light of Doc’s flashlight, which was powered by one of his own power cells. They wound between the accumulated cast-offs lining the passageway that ran the length of the building and entered a dusty room at the very end. Zeke held the flashlight as Doc moved a hatch in the floor, and they climbed down a long ladder, Zeke first so that Doc could close the hatch behind them. They didn’t want anyone accidentally falling, he’d said. The light in Zeke’s hand flit about the ladder like a firefly until its power drained and it faded away. They descended the last fifty rungs in complete darkness.
“You’ve been here before,” said Zeke. “Is this a secret passage?”
“It’s a secret to some people,” said Doc.
At the bottom, still in darkness, Doc shoved aside something heavy that scraped against the floor. Blue light shone through a grate on a rectangular shaft Zeke guessed was a little wider than a person.
Doc removed the grate. “Got to crawl through.”
They emerged from the shaft into a curved tubular tunnel about ten feet wide, lit by regularly spaced blue lamps.
“We better leave this open so the others can follow,” said Doc.
Doc set a quick pace on a path alongside endless long cylinders the size of tree trunks, lined up end-to-end and fitted with pipes and orderly cables. The tunnel curled in a gradual, constant curve, and no matter how long they jogged, the arc in front of them looked identical to what lay behind. The only way Zeke could tell they weren’t running in circles was the numbering stenciled on each cylinder.
“How much further?” Zeke asked.
“About five more miles,” said Doc, breathing hard between words.
Five miles underground? What was this place?
Chapter 17
Office of the Student Body President
Virgil burst into Cynthia’s office.
“Where have you been?” asked Cynthia. Pressure was mounting, and this was no time for peons like Virgil to be wasting time. “We need to get this thing fixed and out of here before school starts. Did you find him?”
Before Virgil could catch his breath and answer, Ezekiel followed him into the office.
Cynthia’s glare flipped to a bright smile. “Oh my gosh, Zeke, I’m so glad we found you! We were so super worried after we heard about that terrible accident at that janitor’s junkyard. How are you feeling? Maybe a little headache?”
“My name is Ezekiel.”
What was this? Never mind, he could call himself whatever he wanted as long as he could fix this crazy invention of his. “I never thought about that. It’s super sophisticated—Ezekiel. Much better than Zeke.”
Mr. Bruder and Chuck crowded past Ezekiel and Virgil with Nate in tow.
“I bet we’re going back to regular classes,” Nate said excitedly to Virgil as they squeezed by.
“Where’s Margaux?” Cynthia asked. “I need to have a little talk with her.”
Mr. Bruder shrugged. “Didn’t see her.”
Cynthia sniffed tentatively at the air. “Ew! You smell awful. Who is that?”
“Sorry,” said Nate. “I was cleaning the cow barn.” He sniffed at himself without embarrassment. “I guess I’m kind of used to it.”
> Ezekiel was looking around with an odd expression. Why did she get the impression he was up to something? Of course, if he wasn’t, she’d have been disappointed in him.
Right on cue, he spoke up. “Come to think of it, I do feel a little weird. Kind of dizzy.”
He slipped his backpack off his shoulders and plopped down in one of the two guest chairs facing Cynthia’s desk.
She stepped around to the front of her desk and sat in the other guest chair, scooting up close. She touched his forehead with the back of her hand, as if checking for fever, and crinkled her nose in sympathy. In a gesture of deep concern, she touched her fingers to her lips.
“Oh my, you might have a concussion.”
She peered deeply into each of Ezekiel’s eyes, alternating between the left and right, like a doctor checking his condition.
Ezekiel maintained a neutral expression.
“Stop staring, silly. You’ll embarrass me. I must look terrible after being up so late.”
“You look nice,” said Nate.
“Thank you, Nathaniel. So sweet. But this isn’t about me—it’s about Ezekiel.” She laid her hand on Ezekiel’s knee. “I have a surprise for you.”
She patted the desk, and in response, Chuck swung the QuARC up from the floor. Virgil rushed to sweep away the debris yet again.
Cynthia scrunched her nose and lips into a sour face. “It has so many wires and stuff sticking out.” She twanged one of the loose wire stalks. “Is it broken?”
“It’s kinda burnt,” said Nate.
Ezekiel’s face never cracked, although he must have been pleased to see the QuARC had survived whatever had happened at Doc’s place. He rolled it around on her desk, inspecting the damage.
