Seizure tb-2

by Kathy Reichs

  The tour group was gone. Even flaring, I heard nothing but the sounds of our own breathing and movement.

  “There.” Shelton crossed to the rear wall, crouched, and tapped the stones. “Listen. Hear that trickling?”

  I hurried to his side. Yes! My wolf-ears pulled in a faint whistling, underscored by a soft murmur. “Incredible.”

  “Moving air.” Shelton squeezed his eyes shut. “Or maybe running water?”

  “Let me look,” Hi urged.

  The wall was constructed of roughly shaped stone sealed with crumbling mortar. Ancient, but solid looking.

  “Bottom row,” Hi pointed downward. “At your feet. The mortar looks different.”

  I squatted and peered at the base of the wall.

  “Hi’s right,” I said. “This stone has darker mortar, with more cracks. Like it was sealed at a different time.”

  Ben’s whisper cut through the darkness. “Hurry.”

  Something velvet brushed my face. The slightest touch.

  I froze.

  My glowing irises spotted a dancing wisp of light. A silvery curl that reached out and stroked my cheek, then drifted away.

  Ghost stories flashed through my mind. My breath caught. I was about to scream when my higher centers reengaged.

  Spiderweb. One single strand. I watched the tendril puff away from the stones, relax, then settle back into place.

  A draft! Air was circulating from somewhere behind the wall. Without my powers, I’d never have noticed.

  “It’s here!” I said. “There must be open space behind these stones!”

  “Someone’s coming!” Ben hissed. “Move!”

  I jumped to my feet and shot to the stairs. Marlo’s feet were descending the steps.

  Averting my eyes, I tried to douse my flare. For a panicky moment, the power wouldn’t fade. Then the sensory doors slammed shut.

  SNUP.

  I stumbled into Shelton, who steadied me. Spittle clung to the corner of his mouth, but his pupils were human. A quick look confirmed that Hi had also shut down.

  “What’s going on in here?” In the light of his small flame, I could see Marlo’s frown. “Ya’ll getting high or something?”

  The charge was so absurd, I laughed out loud.

  “Sorry,” Hi stuttered. “We, uh, dropped our candles and couldn’t see.”

  “All of ’em?”

  Hi shrugged. “We’re extremely clumsy.”

  “How come that one’s lit?”

  “There you are!” A yellow glow preceded Brincefield down the steps. “Everyone’s waiting outside. Sadly, I think the tour is over.”

  “On our way.” Slipping by Marlo and Brincefield, we raced up both sets of stairs, passing Tree Trunk on the way out.

  “That way guys.” Chris pointed to the exit. “We ran a little long. Time to call it a night.”

  “It was great.” Thrown over my shoulder. “Thanks so much!”

  Outside, I gulped fresh air. Divine.

  The others emerged quickly, and we hustled across East Bay.

  “Don’t be a stranger!” Sallie called.

  I gave her a five-finger wave good-bye. Chris was padlocking a sliding iron gate while chatting with Brincefield. Beyond them, Marlo and Tree Trunk were shuffling away down the sidewalk.

  “Man, I hate basements,” Shelton whined as we hoofed it up the block. “Nasty, stinking graves.”

  I checked my watch. Five past ten. Five minutes past curfew.

  “Crap! I’m late.”

  “Me too,” Hi said. “My mom’s gonna rip me a new one.”

  “I found something right before—”

  Ben cut me off. “Let’s talk aboard Sewee. For now, we haul ass.”

  As we hurried to the marina, my mind was already testing excuses.

  GROUNDED.

  Kit bought none of my explanations.

  “I said ten.” He pointed to the mantel clock. “What does that say?”

  “Ten forty. But the tour ran long!”

  “Did you call?”

  “I couldn’t interrupt the guides.”

  “Text?”

  “They, um, had a no cell phone policy. Plus, we were underground.”

  “Not good enough,” Kit said. “Two weeks. Lockdown. End of story.”

  I groaned. Kit arched a brow, daring me to continue. Defeated, I stomped to my room, Coop on my heels.

  “You gave me no choice,” Kit called after me.

  “We’ll see about that,” I muttered.

  “Change of plans,” I said. “We go tonight.”

  “It’s always midnight break-ins with you!” Hi pulled his hair in frustration. “You’re like a Colombian drug lord!”

  I’d called an iFollow conference. The boys were not cooperating.

  On the ride home, I’d told them about my air-behind-the-wall discovery. Everyone got excited. Nevertheless, we’d decided on a cautious plan of attack. No big risks.

  Yet there I was, not thirty minutes later, pushing for another high-stakes gamble.

  “Why not just visit the dungeon again?” Shelton whined. “Take the official tour. See if we can sneak away like earlier tonight.”

  “That was the plan,” Hi tapped finger to palm. “The plan to which you agreed.”

  “Won’t work,” I said. “I’m grounded now.”

  “How long?” Ben asked.

  “Two weeks. We can’t afford to wait.”

  “Bonny’s treasure has been missing for three hundred years,” Hi said. “It can sit tight another fortnight.”

  “Fine.” Not a care in the world.

  Hi leaned close to his screen. “What do you mean, ‘fine’?”

  “Don’t come with me,” I said. “I’ll go by myself.”

  The boys all spoke at once.

  “Don’t be a drama queen.” Hi.

  “You can’t go alone.” Ben.

  “Somebody has to watch your back.” Shelton.

  I bulled ahead. Crazed idea or not, I was tired of arguing. I could sense Bonny’s treasure was tantalizingly close. No chance I’d wait another night.

  “The only way through that wall is to move the stones,” I said. “And we can’t dismantle masonry on a guided tour.”

  Sullen looks, but no contradictions.

  “We either finish the job, or give up.” I crossed my arms. “I’ve made my call. Make yours.”

  “I go first.” Ben pointed with his bolt cutters. “Ten seconds, then Shelton. After him, you two count to thirty, then come as fast as you can.”

  “Everyone off the street ASAP,” I added.

  We were huddled behind a jewelry store, one block south of the Exchange Building. Dressed in black. Just past three in the morning.

  I carried only my backpack. Inside were a pen, four flashlights, bottled water, an electric lantern, and Bonny’s map.

  “If Shelton can’t pick the door quickly, we bail.” Ben looked hard at me. “Right away. No exceptions.”

  “Agreed.”

  “If I see a car, my ass is hauling,” Hi said. “Usain Bolt style. I’ll swim home if necessary.”

  “I’ll pop the lock,” Shelton promised. “But if the building has an alarm …”

  He didn’t finish. No point. We had to pray for low-tech security.

  “The rally point is Washington Park,” Ben said. “Miss that, meet back at Sewee.”

  “Of everything we’ve done,” Hi said, “this is by far the stupidest. Just wanted to get that on record.”

  Ben closed his eyes, inhaled, then charged around the corner.

  “One one thousand … two one thousand …”

  At ten, Shelton took off like a shot.

  As I counted to thirty, Hi did little toe jumps at my side. Finally, after an eternity, we hit our mark.

  “Go!”

  We sprinted the short block to the building.

  Success! The gate was open. Hi and I slid through and pulled it shut.

  I turned and scanned the street. No m
ovement, no signs of life.

  “Keep going,” Hi said.

  We streaked down the staircase. The door at the bottom swung open. Ben waved us through, then closed it behind us.

  I clapped Shelton’s back. “Nice work!”

  “No sweat.” Shelton’s face was drenched. “Okay, a lot of sweat, but that lock was a joke.”

  We thumbed on our flashlights.

  “This place is scarier at three a.m.” Hi whispered.

  “A tad.” Shelton’s voice quavered.

  I didn’t disagree.

  We crossed the basement and descended the second set of steps. At the bottom we paused to regroup.

  “Flare time.” As usual, three of us had no problem.

  SNAP.

  “Damn damn damn!” Ben. Struggling.

  “Try to relax,” Hi suggested. “Let it come to you.”

  “Relax?” Ben hissed. “What are you, an idiot? That never works.”

  “Over here.” I’d already located the oddly mortared stone.

  Shelton and Hi hurried to my side, leaving Ben to stew alone.

  “The air seems to flow from behind,” I said. “Help me push.”

  Shelton dropped to a knee beside me. Together we pushed with all the flare strength we could muster.

  Nothing. The rock didn’t budge. A sick feeling formed in my stomach.

  Hi added his back to the mix. We gave it everything. The stone refused to give.

  The sick feeling grew.

  “It’s no good,” Shelton panted. “This bastard’s not moving.”

  “Let’s take off,” Hi pleaded. “We’ll try something else.”

  “No,” I said. “We need Ben.”

  “Ben can’t play right now!” Shelton yelped. “And we don’t have time to wait.”

  I grabbed Hi’s shoulder. “Go! Do your thing!”

  “You’re pretty casual with my life, you know.”

  “Go!”

  Groaning, Hi got to his feet, considered a moment, then crossed to Ben.

  “Still failing?” Hi asked. Casual.

  “I almost had it!” Ben barked.

  “Maybe it’s your Native American blood,” Hi offered. “Perhaps conquered peoples can’t tap superpowers?”

  Ben stilled. “What did you say?”

  “Weakness,” Hi mused. “Inferior races might lack the genetics for flaring.”

  Ben grabbed Hi by the shirt, pulled his face close.

  “You wanna see an inferior race, you—”

  Ben shuddered as the power scorched through him. Hi scooted backward, just in case.

  “God, you’re easy!” Hi chuckled.

  Ben’s eyes burned a deep amber-gold. “You’re getting a little too good at pushing my buttons, Stolowitski.”

  Hi bowed. “Practice makes perfect.”

  “Ben!” I called out. “Move this fricking rock, already!”

  Ben’s eyes swiveled to me. Without a word, he charged across the dungeon, dropped to his back, and slammed his boots into the stone.

  A ghastly creaking filled the dank chamber. Fragments of mortar cascaded to the floor. Slowly the stone moved backward from the rest of the wall.

  Ben paused, panting. Then he slammed again, legs driving. Two more thrusts drove the stone into open space.

  “You did it!” Hi said.

  Ben’s efforts had created an opening just large enough to wriggle through. Heads close, we peered through it. Nothing but darkness. A chilly breeze caressed the skin on our faces.

  I pointed my flashlight. The beam probed the blackness beyond, revealing a narrow tunnel approximately three feet in diameter.

  Shelton spoke first. “No way I’m going in there.”

  “This must be how Bonny escaped,” I said. “The treasure could be—”

  “Look at that!” Near hysteria coated Shelton’s words. “We have no idea where this pit leads! We could get trapped and never get out!”

  Ben squared Shelton’s shoulders and looked him in the eye.

  “I’ll be with you the whole way,” he promised. “You can do this. Any problems, we turn around.”

  Shelton let out a strangled cry. Wiped his glasses. Nodded.

  “Ready?” I asked.

  “We’re ready,” Ben said.

  Dropping to all fours, I crawled into the hole.

  SILENCE FILLED THE dungeon in the ruins of Half-Moon Battery.

  Deathly. Foreboding.

  Dust particles danced in the air oozing from the fresh wound in the rear wall.

  Absolute blackness blanketed the chamber.

  Then, a noise.

  Overhead, wood creaked.

  A faint glow appeared at the top of the stairs, slowly worked its way downward.

  Moving shadows shot the walls at sharp angles.

  The glow reached ground level.

  Gravel crunched.

  The flickering light crossed toward the back of the chamber. Paused.

  Seconds ticked by.

  Shadows spun the walls.

  The light reversed and bobbed back up the steps.

  Darkness returned.

  Moments later, footsteps again broke the silence. Descending with purpose.

  This time, the light was stronger, white and penetrating.

  Without hesitation, the radiance moved into the exposed gap and was gone.

  CLAUSTROPHOBIA THREATENED TO overwhelm me.

  The tunnel was rough-edged, low, and seemingly endless. My flashlight beam dissolved into darkness two yards out.

  As I inched forward, the walls tightened like a fist. Within twenty feet I couldn’t rise to my knees. I dropped and dragged myself with my elbows.

  My body scraped over gravel, sharp rocks, and things I tried not to imagine. Progress was agonizingly slow. In my mind’s eye I saw us—a line of ants creeping through a narrow straw.

  Shelton’s whimpers told me he was barely holding it together. Without Ben’s prodding, I’m not sure he would’ve kept going.

  At one point I glanced back. Hi’s glowing eyes were right behind me. And looking petrified.

  “You okay?”

  He gave a shaky thumbs-up. “Just keep moving. And please yell if you see an exit sign. I feel like I’m crawling down a monster’s throat.”

  Swallowing hard, I dragged myself another few yards. The skin on my elbows was growing raw.

  Hi was right. Things got worse if you stopped. The walls closed in. My brain reminded me of the crushing weight hanging over my head.

  “You see anything?” Shelton yelled from down the line. “Tell me this leads somewhere! I’m buggin’ out!”

  I aimed my flashlight dead ahead. Still the blackness ate the beam. Even flaring, I couldn’t see more than six feet.

  “Not yet,” I said. “But the air is still moving. It has to come from somewhere!”

  “Don’t stop!” Shelton pleaded. “It’s not like we can turn around.”

  He was right. The passage was way too tight for a U-turn. If we hit a dead end, we’d have to back our way out.

  My mind shied from that terrifying possibility.

  Reach. Drag. Pull.

  Reach. Drag. Pull.

  The passing minutes seemed like hours. Without my extra flare strength, I’d have collapsed.

  Questions hounded me. Did this hole lead anywhere? Was it tilting downward? How far below ground were we? Was I dragging myself to hell?

  It was then that my flashlight died.

  Nightmare.

  Heart hammering, I snaked ahead faster, yanking forward with ragged, frantic lunges. The rough ground tore at my skin. I felt blood on my elbows and knees.

  Adrenaline raced through me. My breath came in great, heaving gulps.

  “Tory?” Hi called. “Is this your flashlight?”

  I didn’t answer. Didn’t slow. Just squirmed forward, desperate to reach the end of this pressing, suffocating, horrifying subterranean crack.

  Tears streaked the grime coating my face.

&nbs
p; I was wrong! my brain screamed. I’ve led us into a grave.

  “Who’s bleeding?” Ben shouted. “Is everyone alright?”

  “Blood!?!” Shelton shrieked. “Where!?!”

  Then my outthrust hand hit something solid. A wall. Fingers trembling, I traced its surface, looking for a way through or around.

  No deal. The rock face was solid.

  I nearly screamed. We’d reached a dead end. We were trapped.

  “Why are we stopped?” Hi sounded nearly as frightened as Shelton.

  Moments from despair, my wits returned.

  The breeze is still there!

  My hands shot left, right. Struck solid earth.

  Near panic, I rolled to my back and reached for the roof. My hand encountered nothing but open air.

  Tucking in my limbs, I rotated and got to my knees. Holding one arm above my head, I carefully rose to my feet.

  “I can stand!” I shouted.

  “Seriously!?!” Shelton sobbed. “Here I come!”

  “Hold on!” Hi yelped. “Tory, is there room for the rest of us?”

  I spread my arms, took two steps forward, two backward. The opening was at least two yards wide.

  “Yes! We can all fit!”

  Hi belly-crawled forward, flashlight bobbing. I grabbed his shoulders and pulled him to his feet. Together we helped Shelton and Ben.

  Packed in tight, we panted in unison. Then the boys aimed their beams into the gloom.

  “Wow,” I said.

  Our heads were poking through the floor of a cavern measuring about twenty feet square. Wooden beams supported a fifteen-foot ceiling. Straight ahead—in the general direction we’d been crawling—a low passageway wound from sight.

  No one needed an invitation. We scrambled from our hole like escaped convicts.

  Hugs. Backslaps. We’d have lit cigars. Right then, open space—any space—was the most wonderful thing in the world.

  “Thank the Lord,” Shelton breathed. “I couldn’t take much more!”

  Got that right. Everyone had been close to the edge.

  “Let’s see those elbows,” Ben demanded. “You left a bloody streak in the shaft.”

  I let him inspect my wounds, glad he’d forgotten to be mad at me.

  “Not too bad. Next time wear long sleeves.”

  “Yikes!” I winced. “Know your own flare strength, buddy.”

  “This chamber is man-made,” Shelton said excitedly.