The Vivisectionist

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The Vivisectionist Page 24

by Hamill, Ike


  Relieved, he tiptoed over to one of the windows. The window was two or three stories up and overlooked an overgrown field bordered with woods. A nearly full moon hung low, just about even with the treeline. He pressed his face close to the window so he could look straight down; the ground looked a long way down. A door on the adjacent wall was open a crack, he walked as quietly as he could and swung it open.

  Jack

  Planning to do extra errands before her appointment, Kate left the house at nine-thirty. She hung a note up on the fridge which told Jack and Stephen to eat leftovers for lunch. They snuck into the front room to listen for the garage door opening, and then they watched from there as she pulled away from the house.

  “Let’s go,” said Jack.

  They wore their exploring-clothes and already had their bags packed. Once out of the yard and safely out of sight of the neighbors, they moved fast—running to the hotel.

  Their ladder routine didn't work well with two people instead of three. Jack helped Stephen carry the ladder, and then doubled back to inspect the fishing line stretched across the path. Up on the porch roof, Stephen was anxious to see if the money had been replaced. He fumbled with the trick clapboard, and yelled at Jack when he tried to help.

  When Stephen finally got the section of clapboard loose, the sight of a new envelope delighted the boys.

  Stephen grabbed it and tore it open. Squeezing the sides, he shook the contents into his hand. Another seven crisp hundred-dollar bills slid out of the envelope. “Sweet,” he said. “Now we’ve got seven hundred each.”

  “What about Ben’s share?” asked Jack.

  “Oh yeah,” said Stephen. “Still pretty good though.”

  “Is there another letter?” asked Jack.

  “Yeah, but it’s the same,” Stephen skimmed the letter folded up with the bills.

  “That makes sense,” said Jack.

  Once inside the hotel, Jack and Stephen had very little trouble getting back to where Ben had fallen. Jack only consulted his notebook at the beginning. They felt that they could negotiate the hotel’s intricacies without reviewing the diary.

  When they got back to the vents, Jack put his hand on Stephen’s shoulder to slow him down—“Hold up—I want to check the map,” said Jack.

  “Yeah, okay. What time is it?” Stephen asked.

  “Uh, it’s eleven-thirty,” said Jack, consulting his watch.

  “Let me see the drawing,” said Stephen. Jack held his flashlight on the map painted on the door. They hunched over in the small passage and their heads nearly touched. Tracing a finger across the drawing, Stephen checked each line and mark on Jack’s reproduction. He asked questions about lines that appeared on the door, but not in Jack’s notebook. Some of them were reference marks, pertaining to ducts or utilities as opposed to corridors, by Jack’s calculations. When they agreed on the accuracy of Jack’s map, Stephen handed the notebook back and then crawled into “the vents.”

  Jack pulled duck tape from his pack and they marked the first turn. Only one path didn’t end in a skull and crossbones, so their choice was easy at first. As they had seen two days before, the only viable choice was the second right and then the left turn before the trap Ben triggered. After that, they had two choices that didn’t have a trap, and both ended abruptly. They reached the crossroads and paused.

  On the map, the left wound around for a bit and then stopped near the top. The right looked straighter and shorter, and ended near the right-hand side.

  “I guess we’ll just have to check both,” said Jack.

  “Seems pretty risky,” said Stephen. “We don’t have any idea if they have traps or not.”

  “I don’t know—why bother to mark some traps and not others?” asked Jack.

  “Who knows,” said Stephen. “The guy who made this place was a nut-bag.”

  “How about this: one of us goes and the other follows, like ten feet back, so if there’s a trap, we’ll just have to figure out how to rescue the lead guy,” said Jack.

  “Who’s going first?” asked Stephen.

  “You can go,” Jack smiled. “I don’t mind.”

  “Good one, son,” said Stephen. “Think I’ll pass.”

  “We’ll flip for it,” said Jack.

  “Okay.”

  Jack produced a quarter and said, “Call it in the air.” He hunched further and flipped the coin in a low arc.

  “Heads.”

  It came up tails, and Jack elected to go second.

  “Okay, but you better figure out how to get me out,” said Stephen. He headed off to the right and worked his way down the hall, testing each step before he committed. Stephen made the first corner without incident and poked his head and flashlight around to see what was coming. “Looks clear,” he said.

  “Take your time,” said Jack, sarcastic. “Not like we have to get back soon or anything.”

  “I know, she’ll be back at three.”

  “That’s right.”

  Stephen rounded the corner and continued down the shaft. He noted that the passage was getting smaller, and Jack confirmed his observation. When they got to the final corner, Stephen was almost too apprehensive to continue.

  “It’s got to be right here,” said Stephen.

  “Back up—I’ll go,” said Jack.

  “No, I got it,” said Stephen. He disappeared around the final corner and then called back for Jack. “Hey—here’s the end, you’ve got to see this.”

  Jack followed the sound of Stephen’s voice to the end of the passage. He found Stephen looking down a hole in the floor. Centered in the hole was a brass pole like Jack would have expected in an old firehouse.

  “Weird,” said Jack.

  Stephen was shining his light down the hole, trying to make out some detail. “Looks like it goes down forever,” he said. The pole was screwed to the ceiling and Stephen reached out to grab it.

  “Don’t touch!” yelled Jack, but it was too late. Stephen gripped the pole and then looked quizzically up at Jack.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Stephen.

  “I just thought it might be electrified or something,” said Jack.

  “Oh, nope. Unless it’s off for some reason,” said Stephen.

  “Can you seen anything?” asked Jack. The hall was very small at this point and Jack couldn’t really get close to the hole with Stephen in the way.

  “Nope—nothing,” said Stephen. “Just goes down and down.”

  “Want to take it?” asked Jack.

  “No way!” exclaimed Stephen. “How the hell would we get back up?”

  “I don’t know—maybe that’s the boss trap,” said Jack.

  “I say let’s go check out the other direction,” said Stephen.

  They agreed to investigate the other passage before making a decision. Stephen managed to convince Jack to take the lead. Turning around, they made their way back to the crossroads and then started down the left turn.

  Jack came to a floor panel that looked unusual—“I think there’s something here.”

  “Where are we on this map?” asked Stephen and Jack indicated their approximate position.

  “Can’t be anything bad then, right?” asked Stephen. "After all, it's not marked."

  “You should be farther back,” said Jack. “In case something happens to me.”

  “Yeah, true,” said Stephen.

  Jack put his weight on the corner of the panel ahead of him. It seemed normal and solid, but there was no ignoring the color difference.

  “Okay, give me your rope,” said Jack. They tied the line around Jack’s waist and then Stephen braced his feet against the wall and held the other end of the rope.

  “All set,” said Stephen.

  “Here I go,” said Jack. Hand-by-hand, Jack put his weight on the odd panel, clenching his jaw and waiting for the floor to fall away. When he was on the other side of the questionable panel, he turned around and laughed. “Nothing,” he said.

  “Better safe than dead
,” said Stephen.

  “Roger that,” laughed Jack.

  Jack still went through the motions of testing each panel before he put his weight on it, but he put his trust in the map. At the end of the passage, Jack found a small opening wall; it looked like the switch from the white room that Stephen had triggered.

  “Come here—check this out,” Jack said to Stephen. He was pointing his light at the hole in the wall.

  “Huh,” said Stephen.

  In the white room, Stephen had stretched out his hand to activate the switch without getting his wrist caught when the trap closed. This switch was laid out differently. It had roughly the same arrangement—two pieces of plexiglass with two halves of a hole cut into them. If they collapsed together they would trap a person’s arm. The other major difference was the depth to the switch. Stephen had easily reached the switch in the white room because it was only recessed a couple inches behind the plexiglass gate. Here, the switch they found sat sixteen inches back—they had no opportunity to cheat with a stretched hand.

  “Well, should we try it?” asked Stephen.

  “Might as well—the other one didn’t do anything bad,” said Jack.

  “Yeah, but I think our arms are bigger than that hole,” said Stephen. “If that thing closes, it’s going to pinch.”

  “Let’s flip on it,” said Jack. He pulled out the quarter they had used earlier—“Call it.”

  “Heads again,” said Stephen.

  “Heads it is—you got lucky,” said Jack. He removed his backpack and moved closer to the hole. He put his hand just inside the hole and then pulled back. He brushed the bottom plexiglass and then pulled his hand away. “Hey—it’s sharp,” he said.

  Stephen reached out and tested the edge—“You’re right. That thing’s meant to cut.”

  “If it clamps down like before, that would nearly cut my arm off,” said Jack.

  “So what do we do? We know it has to be touched by skin,” said Stephen.

  “Maybe,” said Jack. “The other one had to be, but maybe this one is different.” Jack pulled out the broken broom handle he carried in his pack. Inserted into the hole, it just barely reached the switch at the back, but pressing the switch had no effect.

  “Yeah,” said Stephen. “See?”

  “Well, could be that it needs skin, but does it have to be our skin?” asked Jack.

  “Where you going to get skin?” asked Stephen.

  “I don’t know—we could fit something small in there like a hamster, or maybe even a cat, or something,” said Jack.

  “Do you have a cat?” said Stephen. “How does that help?”

  “Maybe it doesn’t even have to be alive,” said Jack. “Maybe a piece of meat or something would work.”

  “So you want to try dragging meat and cats in here to try to press that button?” asked Stephen, dismayed.

  “Sure,” said Jack. “Why not?”

  “If we knew it would work, maybe,” replied Stephen. “But just on a guess? That’s dumb.”

  “I know—maybe it works the same as an iPod wheel. Ever try to control that with like a pencil eraser or something? It doesn’t work—has to be your hand.”

  “Okay, so we rub meat on an iPod and if that works, we’ll bring meat in here,” chuckled Stephen.

  “Yeah,” said Jack.

  “I guess we’re done for today then,” said Stephen.

  “Yeah, I think you’re right,” said Jack.

  **********

  They made it back to Jack’s yard by one-fifteen. Jack believed that his mom wouldn’t be back until three, but still spied around the corner of the house before entering. Jack’s mom pulled up at that very moment. They ran to the basement door and Jack opened it quietly. Stephen and then Jack slipped inside and trotted over to the stairs. If they went up now, they would reach the kitchen just as Jack’s mom entered from the garage.

  “What do we do?” whispered Stephen.

  “Wait,” said Jack. “Just wait.”

  After a minute, Jack crept up the stairs, waving Stephen to stay close. Jack listened for his mom with his ear an inch from the door. When he heard the hall bathroom door shut, he reached for the handle and they were in the kitchen. Jack pointed Stephen to the living room and then gently closed the door to the basement.

  On his way across the kitchen floor, Jack stepped on a soft part of the floor. The boards groaned under his weight. He lifted his foot gingerly and caught up with Stephen at the bottom of the stairs.

  “Jack?” his mom called from the bathroom.

  Jack looked at Stephen and shook his head. He pointed Stephen up the stairs and they sprinted back to Jack’s room. Stephen sat down and picked up the book he was supposed to be reading. Jack frantically dug through his desk drawer. He found his spare headphones and threw them over to Stephen. Putting them on, Stephen, connected the headphones to the front of Jack’s computer. Jack found another set of headphones and attached them to his iPod. Before sitting on the bed, Jack closed the door to just a crack and turned on his music.

  A few minutes later, Jack’s mom tapped on the door. When they didn't respond, she pushed the door open and found the boys reading their books and listening to music.

  Jack looked up, took off his headphones, and tossed a pillow at Stephen. Surprised, Stephen looked up from his book and removed his headphones as well.

  “Hey, Ms. Randolph,” said Stephen.

  “Did we get any calls while I was out?” Jack’s mom asked.

  “Oh, I don’t know, we had our headphones on,” Jack’s lie came out genuine.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be reading your books?” she asked.

  “It’s classical music,” said Jack. “This book says that classical music can increase reading comprehension.” He held up one of his school books about learning and intelligence.

  “It says it can for some people,” Stephen said. “For some people it has a positive effect and others are bothered by the music.”

  “So Stephen’s listening to pop and I’m listening to classical,” said Jack. “We’re going to see who remembers more.”

  “That’s great,” said his mom. “Didn’t you hear me yelling a minute ago?”

  Jack shook his head.

  “And you weren’t just downstairs?” asked his mom.

  “Nope, been right here,” said Jack.

  Stephen caught himself wondering how Jack could lie so easily. He felt like a fraud when Jack's mom looked at him, but Jack looked perfectly at ease.

  “Okay,” she said. “Dinner’s at six.” She backed out of Jack’s room, closing the door on her way out.

  Jack held his breath until he was sure his mom was away from the door. “Wow. That was pretty good.”

  “Where’d you come up with that stuff?” asked Stephen.

  “I don’t know,” said Jack. “I just looked at my book and it just came to me. You surprised me with that thing about people being bothered. Good one.”

  “Thanks,” said Stephen. “I thought she wasn’t going to be back until three?”

  “I guess she was done early. Lucky we were here,” said Jack.

  “Yeah,” said Stephen. “So what are we going to do about that switch? I’m not going to lose my arm.”

  “Let’s look up how the switch on the iPod works. Maybe the one at the hotel works the same way,” said Jack.

  “Okay,” said Stephen. He got up from the floor and sat down in the computer chair. Soon he had found the information then wanted. “It’s capacitance,” he announced.

  Jack was still reclining on his bed, but with this news, he sat up. “What does that mean?”

  “Ummm, means that whatever is touching the thing it needs to be conductive. Like skin.”

  “Isn’t metal conductive?” asked Jack.

  “Yeah, but that’s not enough. These guys tried a paperclip, but they say it needs more surface area. Like a butter knife turned sideways or something,” replied Stephen.

  Jack picked up his iPod a
n tried to control the wheel with several things around his room. The only thing he found that would work reliably was his finger. “So, anything we can use?”

  “Well,” hypothesized Stephen, “if it’s just surface-area and conductivity, I think we could just shove like a metal spatula in there or something. As long as we were holding the metal part of the handle.”

  “Okay,” said Jack. “That sounds easy. Let’s try it on the iPod.”

  They spent the afternoon conducting secret experiments to try to find the perfect object that was conductive, at least two feet long, and had enough surface area. Stephen searched the closet in the guest room and discovered an old golf putter in the corner. They took turns experimenting with how to hold the metal of the handle so they could control the wheel on Jack’s iPod. Convinced they had solved the problem, they turned their attention to how and when they could actually get back to hotel.

  “Hey,” said Stephen. “Don’t forget to hide the money.”

  “Oh yeah, right,” said Jack. He took out the seven-hundred dollars from his front pocket and hid it with the rest of their money tucked into his sock drawer. “You know what? Let’s just go tonight” said Jack.

  “What about your dad? He sleeps so lightly,” said Stephen.

  “Yeah, but how many times has he actually gotten out of bed and checked on you?” Jack asked. “None—right?”

  “Yeah, that’s true,” said Stephen.

  “So why would tonight be different?” asked Jack. “He might hear us, and it might wake him up, but he’ll just assume everything is okay and go back to sleep.”

  “Maybe we can wait in the kitchen for a few minutes. In case he is up,” said Stephen.

  “What good would that do?” asked Jack.

  “Well,” said Stephen, “if he comes down we’ll just be like ‘Oh, we were looking for cookies.’ or something. If he doesn’t, then we just leave.”

  “Looking for cookies fully dressed?” asked Jack.

  Stephen shrugged.

  “Yeah, okay, that sounds like a good plan then,” Jack smirked.

  The Boy

  The boy wandered through dirty, abandoned rooms for the better part of an hour. He wondered why someone built such a big place and then divided it into a maze of doors. The moonlight streaming through the windows and leaking under doors gave him enough light to navigate. He looked for a window closer to the ground, or stairs to get down to a lower floor.

 

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