“Please. Let me think.”
“And there’s no lava or volcanos unless you consider the cooking.”
She held up her hand. He locked his mouth and threw away the key. He was right about that, but maybe the message wasn’t referring to real volcanos or actual mountaintops. The cliff was pretty tall and that was where she’d seen him last. She’d leave her phone on the beach then sneak over to the power station. If her dad checked her location, he’d assume she was swimming in the surf.
She looked at the phone again. One of the words was marred. That was where she’d pulled out the sunglasses.
Light the chimney at midnight.
That was a better clue. It said when to meet, but the chimney? There were several fireplaces in this master suite alone. How many were there in the resort?
“What’s the chimney?” she muttered.
“That’s where a fireplace—”
She held up her hand. There had to be a significant fireplace, one bigger than all the rest. One so obvious she couldn’t miss it.
“It doesn’t say anything about fire,” Sandy said.
He was serious this time, nodding when she put the phone down and walked out of the master suite. The sun was resting on the water’s edge when she came back for a nap. She was going to wake up before midnight and go into the next room.
There was a telescope she could use.
HER DAD WAS INSIDE the tower.
Kandi looked up from the eyepiece. The moonlight transformed the island into a swaying organism without definition. Glowing pockets of festive lights outlined the tops of buildings and illuminated ornaments in the darkness. The tower, however, was a hulking cylinder that rose up like a modern tombstone, its top floor an all-seeing eye to monitor the inhabitants. It was a dark silhouette.
A chimney.
She texted her dad a second time with no response. She wanted to know what he was doing in there, but more importantly why he wasn’t answering her. If she didn’t hear back from him by midnight, she was going to knock on the tower’s door, whether the chimney was lit or not.
The windows were still obscured and reflective. She couldn’t see anyone on the inside. In a few minutes, it would be midnight. She was about to call him when a warm glow was cast from the tower. At first, she thought it was an explosion, but there was no concussive aftershock.
Kandi aimed the telescope at the top floor.
The windows appeared to be bulging in their frames. And then it stopped. A dim red glow was still somewhere inside.
Tink, tink, tink.
Kandi jerked back from the telescope. Sandy was pointing at the window, his stick finger tapping on the glass as if it were actually making contact. He was pointing. The dying glow from the top floor cast an ominous light around the tower.
A shadow stood outside the first floor.
Kandi dialed the focus. Her phone alarm went off. It was midnight. She jumped on the glider and sped toward an exit. It was midnight and the chimney was lit.
There was a boy.
KANDI
16
A cart was waiting outside.
Kandi didn’t think that was odd. She jumped on it and slammed the accelerator. There were no headlights to illuminate the narrow path, and twice she rubbed against trees before she reached the main path. It was straight and wide. Ruts and clumps of weeds jostled her on the seat. Christmas lights glittered in the tower’s warped reflection.
Sonny.
He stood with his feet apart and hands knuckled on his hips like some modern-day Peter Pan. She had only glimpsed him through the telescope, but it was long enough to recognize him.
And he was barefoot.
Has he been there every night, waiting for me to look out the window? Why did he pretend he never left the room? Because the miser was listening. If he left the room, he’d be in big trouble. That’s why he left the clue.
Kandi twisted the steering wheel and pumped the accelerator. Her pulse throbbed in her throat. The tower continued to rise. A hundred yards away, Sonny dropped his hands and turned.
“No, no, no...”
Casually, he walked off the wide path and vanished between the trees. His name lodged in her throat. She wanted to beg him to stay. Why did it feel like she would be in trouble, too?
“Don’t do this,” she whispered.
Kandi steered to the edge of the clearing with her eyes on the exact spot he entered the jungle. Fifty yards away, a door opened in the tower.
Kandi hesitated—she was almost there—but instinct took over. She rolled across the ground, stems and stubble jabbing her arms and legs before she hid behind a palm tree. The trunk had teeth like a pruning saw. She took cover as the cart came to a stop.
Someone stepped out wearing a thick cloak the color of polluted snow. Her hands were tucked into opposite sleeves like a creepy monk starting a midnight stroll. A voice called from the deep hood.
The miser.
Someone joined her from inside the tower. He stepped out of the dark doorway and looked up at the stars. Twice as wide as her, he wore a bright red coat with white trim and a floppy hat to match. His beard was thick. He was dressed for winter and Kandi suddenly remembered Sonny singing one of his favorite songs.
Santa Claus is coming...
The mysterious robed figure and the fat man dressed like Santa Claus briefly chatted. Kandi couldn’t understand them, but the man’s baritone carried through the trees. It was cut short by the miser’s strange laughter. They began walking.
“Sonny!” she half-whispered. “They’re gone.”
There were no paths between the palm trees. Kandi examined every possible way he could so easily vanish. She couldn’t go far without snagging a vine or scratching her arms. It was very dark and her phone was still in the master suite.
What now?
She peeked out. The miser and the man dressed like Santa had gone around the tower. It was just her and the singing insects and the flashing lights—
The gnats were gone.
In fact, they hadn’t been waiting for her at the cart and hadn’t followed her to the tower. She was so caught up in solving the riddle that she hadn’t noticed.
Her warped reflection watched her approach the tower. Scratched and bloody, she looked for the door. She was where they had come out, but the glassy wall was seamless. There was no handle or hinges, no handprints where anyone had closed it.
Her dad was in there.
Trouble swirled in her stomach. The tower was daunting. The windows were facets that looked in all directions, watching over the island. She stood close to her reflection. Her complexion changed colors with the lights. There were no sounds on the inside, no machinery or footsteps, no man-eating animals prowling back and forth. She pushed against the glass. It was smooth, like she expected, but not cool.
It was hot.
Her handprint faded. She ran her fingers along the surface, searching for a seam or indentation or some secret keyhole that would pop the door open—
Sonny appeared.
The reflection of blond hair was skewed on the curved wall. She spun around in time to see him dart down the same path the miser had taken. She followed without thinking, decorative lights leading the way. The path narrowed on the other side of the tower, the foliage still quivering. Kandi sprinted into the opening and slowed.
It was dark.
She felt her way through the path, hands out and listening, stopping occasionally. She should really go back. It was so dark and she was out of excuses. Every time she hesitated, a sound or movement drew her forward. She followed him to the end of the path, where more lights were in full display. Pausing in the dark, she didn’t see him.
She’d caught up to the miser and Santa.
The Christmas lights flashed different colors. One moment, Santa was wearing a bright red coat; then it was scarlet and then plum. He was standing at the back of a building. The miser was waving her arms. Kandi couldn’t understand what she was saying, but s
he was excited.
Santa, not so much.
They kept walking. Kandi remained hidden, waiting for Sonny to appear. Minutes went by. When the miser was well ahead, she started to follow, whispering Sonny’s name, watching for the foliage to rustle.
Occasionally, she would have to stop and hide. The miser would be excitedly waving at something and Santa would be listening. Eventually, they would move on and Kandi would follow. Each building was so much bigger than she thought and covered in ornaments. They were festive and imposing. It would take a small army of landscapers to put these decorations up.
Her pulse was racing.
This was farther than she had ever been. She shouldn’t be out there, especially not following the miser. Twice she considered running back to the master suite. Like Christmas ornaments, the island’s weirdness was on full display. She couldn’t stop, couldn’t look away. The miser was wearing a cloak.
And there was a man dressed like Santa.
Once again, the path was narrow and dark. She had been following their voices when they went quiet. Kandi was in the dark with no idea where she was. She hadn’t come across any forks so she could turn around and find her way back. When twigs snapped, her heartbeat found another gear.
It was too dark to see who was behind her.
She’d had enough. It was time to backtrack, go to the resort and think about this, maybe scout the island through the telescope and come up with a plan rather than run through the trees after midnight. She’d actually turned her back when brass horns bellowed. This was followed by bells.
They were the kind that jingled.
It was just around the next bend. A blend of flashing colors was up ahead. One more peek, she decided. The shadows were sharp and blinking. She eased to the edge of darkness and looked through the trees. The path was lined with candy canes leading up to an enormous building.
The warehouse.
From the telescope, it was larger when compared to the other buildings. But standing this close, it was far bigger. The walls were buried with Christmas cheer. The path was lighted with mechanical elves pretending to wrap gifts and reindeer slowly moving their heads. Inflated snowmen bobbed and weaved. Everything on the island was lit and cheery, but this was different.
It was a snowy theme.
The miser and the Santa man stood in front of a set of hangar doors large enough to accommodate a commercial airplane. It was still her talking, arms waving as the Santa man watched without expression. She was giving him a tour, and he seemed less than impressed. Kandi and her dad didn’t get a tour. In fact, she still hadn’t met the miser.
Something broke.
It wasn’t a twig this time, more like a branch. Her heart was already exhausted but found an extra surge of adrenaline to reach the next level. There were big things out there. She’d seen them from the resort, things that bullied trees and stomped through branches.
Why didn’t I think of that before coming out here?
Her dad didn’t know where she was. Her phone was in the master suite. She was alone in the dark.
It was time to go back.
The hangar doors broke up. The doors began a slow slide in opposite directions. Music seeped out. It wasn’t accompanied by instruments or a prerecording of an old-time favorite. This sounded like a choir of children.
The miser guided the Santa man inside.
Kandi crouched in her hiding place until the song was sealed back inside the warehouse. When the next branch broke, she bolted onto the path. She ran the entire way, her nicks and cuts burning beneath tracks of sweat, her sides stitching and lungs aching.
In the early morning hours, she reached the master suite. Her dad’s bed was empty and his tool bag still gone. There was a text on her phone. He would be working a bit longer and she wasn’t to worry. She wasn’t worried. Just a little freaked out.
All the illusions in the hallway, the levitating gliders and the talking sandman and mechanical gnats that followed her around were anything but normal. So why did she expect anything different inside the warehouse? She was sure of what she’d seen and sure it wasn’t an illusion this time. Snowflakes had stuck to them when the miser and her Santa man walked through the hangar doors.
Inside, it was winter.
MISER
17
When Naren had arrived on the island with his daughter, his movements were crisp and decisive. He walked with a determined stride. He didn’t look around because he knew where he was going and what he was doing.
He was finely tuned.
The miser had watched him in the snow globe on that day, watched him examine the master suite. She loved how his attention was focused in that moment, a hyper-intensive focus that could cut through illusion and drill into the truth. It was the same focus in everything he did, from working with highly combustible materials to brushing his teeth.
And he spoke with such effortlessness.
His words had enunciated edges that demanded attention. They were polished and perfectly selected without a moment of hesitation. She had seen every interview he’d ever done, each one demonstrating poise and clarity. He seemed familiar. Maybe she’d known him in her before life. There was no way of knowing that unless she remembered. And she wasn’t doing that.
Monsters back there.
She watched him inside the snow globe—the way he ascended to the tower’s second floor, shoulders back and eyes focused—and wanted to reach inside to escort him. Instead, she waited for him to reach the second floor. He entered the hallway and he perked up.
His nostrils flared.
She could feel excitement building inside his chest, pressure that was both exhilarating and frightening. Heather leaned close to the life-sized crystal ball. He was on the floor right below her. There were only two doors. They were both closed. He stopped outside the one on his left where the familiar smell was strongest. Hesitantly, he nudged it open.
Memories surged into his awareness.
Good and bad memories floated on the surface all at once. He held steady against the door, feet frozen to the floor, confusion swirling in his head. Like an old dog sledder feeling the ice, he adapted to the familiar surroundings before moving. His legs slowly thawed, pulse racing.
He didn’t touch anything.
He engaged his senses—sight and smell and hearing—to absorb every detail before walking the perimeter. It cut through the rising tide of good and bad memories. She’d brought him to the island for a couple of reasons. There was a virus in the network, but she could manage that if she wanted. The real reason he was here started in that laboratory. She pulled her cloak tight and yanked the hood over her head.
Then stepped into the snow globe.
One moment she was on the third floor, the next moment she was in the second-floor lab.
Or so it seemed.
The unique smell of biotechnology was in the air—a combination of cold metal and warm clay, the vibrations, the hum of centrifuges and congealers and the occasional drip of condensers.
Vials of heavy gray liquid were lined up in racks. Naren would recognize the color and smell of synthetic stem cells. He’d pioneered their development. He would know that smell like Nicholas knew the smell of nutmeg and the taste of eggnog.
“Do you like it?” she said.
Naren spun around. He’d entered an empty lab, but now she was suddenly next to him.
“It’s overwhelming, I know,” she said. “This isn’t anything you haven’t seen, though. Just unexpected.”
She took a step closer. Her range was limited. Another step forward and she would walk out of the snow globe and back onto the third floor.
“I want to apologize,” she said. “This can’t be easy, dredging up memories. I patterned this room after your old lab so you would feel more comfortable.”
His mouth closed. He had recovered from the surprise but was still wary. He wondered if this was a trap. It wasn’t, of course.
Not entirely.
�
��I’m an admirer of your work, Naren. It’s nothing short of brilliant. You are a true original in our field of study.”
Our field of study. She’d let that slip intentionally. The truth would put him more at ease.
“Your development of synthetic flesh was a breakthrough and everyone agrees. Clearly, I’m a big fan of it, but that’s not why I’m so impressed. You’re misunderstood. They didn’t understand what you were doing, Naren. You took a risk and the scientific community abandoned you. I understand your pain.”
She paced a tight circle.
“I assume you know who I am by now,” she said. “You’ve done your research, I expect. You know who I was before I came to the island, so I don’t imagine this surprises you. Do you know why I chose you?”
He waited.
“Because we’re not like them. We’re special.”
The usual sure-natured edge to his posture had been struck with the mallet of doubt. He had a secret and she knew it. And now he knew she knew it.
Special.
“Just so you know, you and your daughter are not prisoners. You can return to your home because I know you won’t tell anyone. I know too much about you. I hope you stay, really I do. There’s so much more to do, but it has to be your decision.”
He blinked rapidly.
“At some point, though, there will be no going back.”
He looked around the lab. “I know what you’re doing.”
“And I know what you’ve done.” She stepped to the limits of her globe. “You’re hiding a secret, even from your daughter. I can help you with that. You can forget what you’ve done and live in the moment. You can leave your secret behind you.”
She snapped her fingers.
“What is it you want?” he said.
Standing before him, the cloaked figure was not helping to earn his trust. She was saying all the right things, telling him what he wanted to hear, but he needed to trust her. He needed to see her eyes, to know her face.
Rise of the Miser: Claus, #5 Page 11
