Treasure Chest

by Adam Bennett

  Lewis said, “Wimps.”

  “Screw you,” said Tim.

  Gary stepped between them and put a hand on each of their shoulders. “But now we’ve got three studly dudes for the job.”

  “I know there’s some really cool junk in there,” said Tim.

  “Lewis, you’re on the handle.” Gary pushed him forward. “Tim next to him, and I’m on the end.” He raised his eyebrows. “Ready?”

  The other boys nodded.

  “One, two, three…”

  Lined up with their shoulders against the door, they pushed hard, straining with the effort. It moved slowly at first, edging forward, then sprung open. All three tumbled to the floor.

  Tim jumped up. “Now we’re talkin’!”

  The others took their time getting to their feet. Lewis screwed up his face and said, “Smells funny.”

  “Air gets stale after all these years,” said Gary.

  Tim said, “Let’s go.” He walked toward a smaller room and disappeared into the darkness. The others followed.

  Lewis was again bringing up the rear. “I can’t see a thing.”

  Gary said, “Come on, you baby.”

  They moved slowly to the other side of the room and through a doorway.

  “Dude, it’s too dark,” said Gary.

  Tim wasn’t so sure. “You think?”

  Lewis said, “Use the camera.”

  “Yeah,” Tim agreed. “Take a picture.”

  Gary snapped a photo. The area was bathed in light for a split second. But it was long enough for them to see that they were in an old office. A wooden desk and an ergonomic chair with a torn seat remained as afterimages from the flash.

  “Cool,” said Tim. He moved forward into a short hall. The others were barely visible. They crept along until they found another doorway to their left and went in. Tim stopped and Gary bumped into him. “Get off me, man.”

  “Sorry,” said Gary.

  Lewis said, “Hit the lights.”

  Gary snapped another photo. The flash revealed dozens of white lines criss-crossing into a pattern of small squares. Everything glowed with a slightly blue tint. The boys were shadowy figures.

  “Whoa, that was totally awesome!” said Gary.

  “Where are we?” Lewis asked.

  “Wow, it’s a shower.” declared Tim. “We’re in the company locker room.”

  Gary said, “Killer.”

  “We need a flashlight,” said Lewis.

  Tim said, “No way. My eyes are getting used to it. Look, there’s a way out.” He moved through another doorway. The others followed. Now they were in complete darkness, inching along, their footsteps muffled by a coating of dust on the floor.

  Lewis said, “It stinks.”

  “Mildew,” said Gary.

  “Shh… Did you hear that?” Tim whispered.

  Lewis said, “Yeah, right. I told you to knock it off, dude.”

  “Shut up,” Gary said. “Listen.”

  “Very funny,” said Lewis. “Just take the picture.”

  Gary snapped a photo. He drew in a gasp of foul air. The harsh light revealed a group of large, man-sized creatures with pointed snouts and huge teeth standing within a few feet of them. The horrific afterimages faded to black.

  Tim managed to get out the word, “Crap,” before all hell broke loose.

  The boys screamed, the monsters growling and hissing at them, the small room filled with sounds of utter chaos as they fought for their lives.

  “Let’s go! “Gary screamed

  Tim yelled, “Over here, dude!”

  Somehow they found the exit and ran out of the room, back through the showers and out the rusted door to the stairwell. Gary grabbed Tim by the belt in an attempt to get past him. Tim tried to slap his friend’s hand away, and they fell in a heap at the top of the stairs. That’s when they realised the creatures weren’t chasing them. They sat there panting, faces pale, clothes dishevelled. Tim’s backpack was missing, Gary’s camera strap was wrapped around his head but the camera was gone.

  “What were those things?” Tim asked.

  Gary raised his hands; they were shaking. “How should I know?”

  “You OK?”

  “Yeah. Where’s Lewis?”

  Tim’s mind was racing. “I thought he was right in front of us.”

  “Oh, my god; they got him.”

  “No way, dude!” Tim shouted. “He’s got to be around here somewhere!”

  Gary straightened the strap, letting it hang around his neck. He used his thumb to point behind them. “Yeah; somewhere back there.”

  They paused, stunned.

  “No way.” Tim looked up the stairwell. “Lewis?”

  They listened.

  “Lewis!” Gary shouted. “C’mon, man. This is not funny!”

  Silence.

  Tim swallowed hard. “We gotta go back.”

  “Shit.” Gary was resolved to the fact that they would have to rescue their buddy, but didn’t know how they were going to do that. He stood up. “Come on, man,” he said, holding out his hand.

  “This sucks,” said Tim, pushing aside Gary’s offer of help. The boys brushed the dust off their clothing and trudged back down the stairs. Their pace slowed as they got close to the creatures’ lair.

  Gary turned around. “They probably picked his bones clean by now. Let’s just get out of here.”

  “And tell his mum what, exactly?” asked Tim.

  Gary hesitated. “I don’t know. Some crazy old man was in there and snatched him, put him in a van and…”

  “Do you know how stupid that sounds?”

  “Yeah,” Gary admitted. He turned back around to face the inevitable. The boys crept forward, crouching down, making as little noise as possible. When they got to within a foot of the door, a sound came from the other side of it. They froze. Slowly, the camera slid out of the doorway, pushed by a monstrous hand. They looked at each other as the paw swiftly retreated back into the dark room.

  Gary gently pushed Tim forward. “Grab it.”

  “Not a chance.”

  “You’re the one who’s so hyped up on getting him out of there.” Gary shoved him harder. Tim reluctantly took another step and reached out, stretching his arm as far as it could possibly go without becoming detached from his shoulder. He finally got hold of the camera and quickly pulled back, clutching it to his chest. Both boys climbed to the middle of the staircase.

  Tim held the camera in both hands. “This is all that’s left of him.”

  “Wait a minute,” said Gary.

  “You know, he was really a great guy,” said Tim. “Kind of a wuss, but…”

  “Why would they give it back?”

  Tim looked down at the camera’s display window. “Whoa…” There was Lewis, strapped to a chair with duct tape, a length of the silvery stuff covering his mouth. He looked scared out of his mind but otherwise alright.

  Gary tried to get a look at the screen. “What?”

  “Oh, my god…”

  “Give me that,” Gary said.

  Ripping the camera from his friend’s hands, he began quickly paging back through the photos. He found the picture of Lewis’s scared face after sticking his head in the boiler and the one of Lewis chasing Gary down the hallway, then the photos of the office and the locker room.

  Tim scampered around to look over his shoulder.

  A shot of the monsters—just before they attacked the boys—was next, followed by something it took Gary a moment to recognize as one of the beast’s claws as it obscured whatever it was trying to photograph.

  Tim said, “This is too weird.”

  Another picture: Lewis, unconscious, hanging up like a big fish, the monsters clustered around him, posing with their trophy. Another: the creatures in the process of tying Lewis to a chair with duct tape. Gary paged forward to a shot of an empty beer bottle. The next picture showed a monster holding the bottle while pointing at Lewis.

  “I don’t get it…” said T
im.

  Gary took off the strap, attached it to the camera, and stuffed them both in his pocket. “They want to make a trade,” he said. “These things aren’t as dumb as they look. They must have raided the party room and sucked down whatever was in there. Now they’re hooked.”

  “No way, dude!” Tim began pacing back and forth, waving his arms over his head. “They’re just trying to lure us back in there! As soon as we walk through that door, we’re dead!”

  “I don’t think so,” said Gary. He stepped in front of Tim. “All they had to do was grab you when you picked up the camera. What’s keeping them from running out here and dragging us back in?”

  “Nothing, really.”

  They started backing up the stairs.

  Gary said, “Right.”

  Tim stopped. “Where are we gonna to get enough beer to get Lewis back?”

  “He can’t be worth that much.”

  “You think there’s another stash in here somewhere?”

  “No,” Gary said, turning to continue their climb. “We would’ve found it already.” He reached the landing and moved quickly out the door into the hallway, Tim close behind. “Is your brother working tonight?”

  “No, you don’t.” Tim shook his head. “There is no way I’m telling him…”

  “Don’t tell him anything,” Gary warned. “He’ll think we’re crazy.”

  “We’ve got to tell him something.”

  “Yeah…”

  “So, what then?”

  They reached the window they’d used to get into that part of the factory, their heads hanging in despair. Suddenly, Gary’s eyes lit up.

  Taking his friend by the shoulders and giving him a quick shake, he said, “Girls!”

  ***

  The two boys walked across the parking lot of a large convenience store, passing under its brightly lit sign, the words Stop ’N’ Go and Liquor prominently displayed.

  Tim said, “He’s never going to believe me.”

  “Why not?” asked Gary. “He moved into his own place, when? Last year? How would he know what you’ve been doing?”

  “He just would.” Tim stopped at the store’s entrance. “What are their names?”

  “Who?”

  “The girls we’re supposed to be buying this stuff for.”

  “Oh, yeah; Tina,” answered Gary. “And Valerie.”

  “What do they look like?”

  “I don’t know,” Gary said, shooting his friend an exasperated look. “Like cheerleaders or something.”

  “Where did we meet them?”

  “What is the matter with you?” Gary grabbed Tim’s arm and pushed his friend through the door. “Just go in there and get the freakin’ beer!”

  Tim struggled to free himself. “Get off me, you jerk!” Pulling away, he walked briskly to the back of the store, reached into a refrigerated case, and yanked out a six pack, raising a hand to quiet the bottles as he tucked them under his arm. Walking up to the counter, he tried to adopt a confident appearance, his stride lengthening as he looked casually around the place, pretending to check out the merchandise. He got in line at the checkout, holding the beer at his side.

  A man stood in front of him, pointing to a generic brand of cigarettes. “Yeah, those ones with the gold eagle.”

  Tim’s brother, Gerald—a few years older and a couple inches taller than his sibling, wearing jeans, a white shirt, and a red vest—reached up to grab the package of cigarettes the customer wanted. He turned and put them on the counter. “That’ll be $9.98,” he said. The man took a twenty dollar bill from his wallet and handed it over.

  Tim waved at his brother to get his attention. “Hey, Bro.”

  “What are you doing here?” Gerald asked, a bit suspicious. He opened the cash register and gave the customer his change. The man walked away.

  Tim said, “Nothing much. How’s it going?”

  Gerald leaned forward. “I can’t give you anything tonight,” he said quietly. “The manager is in the back doing inventory.”

  “Oh, that sucks. Well, I’ll see you.” Tim started to leave but ran into Gary, who glared at him until he turned around.

  Gary said, “Hey, Gerald, good to see you. Actually we need something to drink. Right, Tim?”

  “Yeah,” Tim said. “Uh, see there’s these babes waiting for us to get some, you know…” He put the six pack on the counter.

  Gerald gave his brother a quizzical look. “Babes?” he asked. “What babes?”

  “Well, they were over at the park and said they could use a drink but they’re not old enough to get anything so, uh, Gary said we could get some. Right, dude?”

  “Yeah,” Gary said. “Cause I could tell they thought we were older and you’d be working and, being the cool guy you are, you’d buy it for us.”

  “You are so full of shit,” accused Gerald. “If any ’babes’ saw you dorks hanging out at the park, they’d run the other way.”

  “Screw you,” said Gary.

  “Watch your mouth, you little…”

  Tim said, “Chill, you guys. Jeez! OK, Gerald, you’re right. We just want to go over to the factory and get a buzz.”

  “Sure you do,” Gerald said. “If you idiots drank all this, you’d be passed out or puking. What are you up to?”

  “Why do we have to be up to something?” asked Gary.

  “Because I know that stupid look on his face.” Gerald pointed at Tim. “You are such a liar, bro.” He took a step back from the counter and crossed his arms.

  “Alright,” admitted Tim. “We need it for Lewis.”

  “Lewis.”

  “Yes, Lewis,” Gary said. “He got himself captured by these… old guys over at the factory and they won’t let him go unless we trade them some beer.”

  Gerald was unconvinced. “Captured?”

  “Kidnapped,” said Tim. “We were over there and they just grabbed him and tied him up and said we had to get them some booze.”

  “That sounds even dumber than you hooking up with some girls.” Gerald stepped out from behind the counter. “Give me that.” Tim handed him the six pack. He took the beer and escorted the boys to the door. “I don’t know why I’m doing this, but I get off in five minutes. Wait outside and I’ll bring it out. OK?”

  “Sure,” Gary said, quickly pushing Tim out the door. The two boys stood in the parking lot as Gerald took off his vest and turned the counter over to a middle aged woman with stringy blonde hair.

  Tim said, “He’s never going to do it. He’ll come out here and say there’s some kind of rule about employees buying liquor.”

  “Rule?” Gary asked. “What rule?”

  “I don’t know. There probably isn’t one but he’ll say there is.”

  “Nope. He isn’t going to say anything about any rules.”

  “How do you know?”

  Gary looked in the store window, pointing at Gerald as he set the six pack on the counter. His replacement rang it up and put it in a plastic bag. Tim stood there in disbelief as his brother paid for what he hoped would put an end to this ordeal. He was outside the building before either of the two younger boys could say another word.

  “That’ll be six fifty,” he said as he held the bag out to Gary.

  “Thanks, dude.” Gary dug into his jeans pocket, pulling out a few crumpled bills. He counted them into Gerald’s hand. “Five, six, seven. You owe me fifty cents.”

  “Don’t push it.” said Gerald. “In fact, I should get a couple of those brewskies for what they call a finder’s fee.”

  “I knew it,” Tim said. He looked accusingly at Gary. “You said this would be easy; walk in, walk out, get back to Lewis and…”

  “Lewis?” Gerald pulled the bag back, tucking it under one arm. “How many of us are sharing this?”

  “Nobody is sharing anything,” said Gary. “Give me that!” He lunged at Gerald, trying to get hold of the beer.

  “No way,” Gerald said. He raised the bag over his head. “Either I get one or
I’m going to take all of them.”

  Tim waved his arms in front of his brother’s face, his voice rising in panic. “We need every one of those things, man, otherwise Lewis is dead!”

  Gary slapped a hand to his forehead.

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Gerald asked.

  “Oh, man, they’ve got him!” Tim started walking around in circles. “Those monsters have got him taped to a chair right now, and if we don’t get back soon…”

  “We don’t really know what will happen,” Gary cut in. “But we can’t take the chance.”

  Gerald put the beer back under his arm. “So that part about the old guys by the factory is true?”

  Tim sat down on the front bumper of a parked car and put his head in his hands. “Not old… well maybe they are old, I don’t know, but these things…”

  “With big-ass teeth and giant claws and eyes like you’ve never seen,” added Gary. “Dude, you just have to believe us. We need that stuff to trade for Lewis.”

  Gerald looked from one to the other, trying to gauge their sincerity.

  “Are you trying to tell me that there are some kind of monsters in the factory?”

  “Yes,” said Tim.

  “And they kidnapped Lewis and they’re holding him ransom for some beer?”

  “I know it sounds stupid,” said Gary. “But it’s real, dude.”

  “That is such a load of shit.”

  “When have we ever asked you to buy us anything?”

  “Never, but…”

  Tim stood up. “Show him the pictures.”

  Gary took the camera out of his pocket and held it up so Gerald could see the display screen. As each photo went by, Gerald’s eyes got wider, his jaw slacker, until he was standing there with his mouth hanging open. Tim took advantage of his befuddlement and grabbed the bag out of his hands.

  He stepped up to his brother and said, “Don’t tell mom,” then turned to hurry across the parking lot. Gary fell in behind him.

  “You are not going back there,” said Gerald, shaking his head to clear the bizarre images from his brain. He ran after the boys. “You’ve got to call the cops or something.”

  “Oh, yeah, they’ll believe us,” said Gary. He quickened his pace.

  Gerald said, “Yeah, I guess not. So what do we do?”