Tunnels

by Lesley Downie

"We're in the library basement," I said. "Kirke must have used his supernatural force to push the metal door out for us."

  "Or maybe I loosened it enough and it slipped out. Ghosts, yeah right."

  "There's no point in arguing, E. I know what I know. Besides, you saw him too." The boy lives in serious denial. "Now hurry—through the door over there and up the stairs!"

  When we got to the main floor, I was shocked. The wood and glass case at the top of the stairs had collapsed on the floor. It held some of the town's artifacts for the special collections we were featuring this month. Two-hundred-year-old relics found in the canyon nearby lay under the pieces of broken glass. I had just set up the display with her last week. Native American jewelry, corn husk dolls, weapons, and pottery lay among the pieces of the case. I wanted to cry for real.

  Then, in the main room where the circulation desk was, the place was a total mess. And past the marble columns where the books were shelved, most were scattered on the floor.

  But worst of all was the big old stained glass dome window which sat above the check-out desk, broken in pieces on the wood floor. Out of all the windows in the library, why that one? It was my favorite because it was a scene from the mad tea party in Alice in Wonderland. And then I thought of Ms. Finstead. Where had she been standing when the window shattered? I was afraid to look behind the counter. What if she was lying there?

  "Come on, let's go," Evan said. "I don't think it's safe in here if another aftershock hits."

  "Okay, in a minute," I answered. I made myself go over to the big wood desk, the one I'd stood behind with Ms. Finstead hundreds of times. I could see her purse still shoved in the cubby she uses.

  But I didn't see Ms. Finstead or any of the other librarians that work during the day. What I did see was almost as bad. Blood. And lots of it.

  "I feel sick." And I did. It was a lot of blood. How hurt were my friends?

  "I know," he said. "Let's get you out of here."

  Pushing through the front doors, we saw the small park in front of the library was full of people. There was a paramedic truck, and some EMTs were kneeling on the ground by someone. I recognized the shoes peeking out beyond the group and ran over. Louisa May Alcott sat on the curb, not far from Ms. Finstead, meowing the saddest meow ever.

  "Is she okay?" I was shaking as I reached down to pet Louisa. She got up and started rubbing herself against me. The cat must have been seriously sprung because affection's so not her style. And when I got a good look at my friend I knew why Louisa was so upset. Ms. Finstead's eyes were closed and there was a bandage wrapped around her head. Her left leg had a huge gash on it and I could see they'd put a tourniquet around it. I wondered where the other librarians were and how badly they were hurt.

  "BP's dropping," one said. "Where's the ambulance?"

  "What if she doesn't make it?" I gripped Evan's arm. "She can't die!"

  "Don't think that way," he said. "She's in good hands. We can't do anything for her, but we might be able to save George's life. We've got to hurry."

  I wasn't so sure anymore what was right. To leave Ms. Finstead didn't seem okay at all. I loved the lady.

  "I need to call my mom," I said. "She'll know what to do." But when I pulled out my phone, the screen said SEARCHING FOR SERVICE.

  "Mine says the same. System must be overloaded or maybe some cell towers were damaged."

  The world was upside down right now. I felt helpless as the EMTs worked on Ms. Finstead because I knew there was absolutely nothing I could do. But Evan was right. There was someone else who needed saving and we didn't know how long George had left. What time was he planning to join Emily? Or had he already done it?

  "Okay, let's go," I said.

  We took off toward town. There was a lot of damage to the houses around the library, but as we passed some of the newer buildings, I was surprised it wasn't as bad there.

  "Think we should start at the Methodist church?" I asked.

  "Yup." Evan was already breathing heavily. Cardio? Not so much. "We've seen him the most there so it makes sense."

  Just a few blocks away from the church we had to wait for a chance to cross. The street light was out and there was no policeman to direct traffic so it was pretty chaotic. People were on the streets talking, probably afraid to go back into their offices.

  "Look." I pointed to the tower above the theater where they would raise and lower the stage sets in the old days. "The tower lost a lot of its bricks." Pretty scary actually. They littered the street and I saw people stepping around them. Probably not such a good place to walk if stuff started shaking again. And that's when I peered up at the sky and saw the creepiest of creepy.

  "The birds," I said. "They're flying all crazy."

  Crows, blue jays, and even what I think were hawks were flying in circles and screaming at the top of their bird lungs.

  "That's like end-of-days creepy, and you know I don't believe in that stuff."

  "Totally." I nodded. But I didn't say what I was actually thinking. Birds know stuff way before humans. It's got to mean the aftershocks aren't over.

  We rounded the corner and I saw the church and sighed with relief. Seemed like it was still in one piece. Both of us sped up and for now, the world was still.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  SECRET DOORWAYS

  The tunnel seemed normal under the four holy corners. Evan's heart/butt was still there and it was quiet. No sign of bats, George, or the lizard man. But time was not on our side. We had to get busy and find him now. Hopefully we can explain why we're here before he goes all crazy on us.

  "He was probably just trying to scare you before," Evan whispered. "Just think, he'd been the only one in the tunnels for ages until you came along."

  "Maybe," I answered. "Or maybe he just went psycho after he found out Emily died when she went to Europe to find him. That kind of crazy sometimes never goes away." I paused, thinking of the last day we'd seen George—when we still didn't know who the old bearded man really was. Well, we were pretty sure who he was now, anyway. The tattoo had to be proof. There just aren't this many coincidences in life.

  One thing did bother me, though. It was weird his voice seemed like the same voice as the creature in the tunnel that chased me. Does he somehow transform himself from human to beast? It was sad to think someone who tried so hard to protect Emily and their families would end up alone. But I meant to change that if we were on time—and he didn't murder me first.

  It didn't take long to get to the spot where Evan pulled me out the last time I'd been here. Today it was a relief—nothing was scaring the poo out of me.

  "There's the archway I told you about," I said, pointing to it. "Think we should knock it down and see where it leads? Maybe we'll find George."

  "Yeah, let's do it. This is as good a place as any to start." He focused the light on the arch as we studied the wall, which was probably around eight feet wide and ten feet high. For a second, I was sure I'd seen something.

  "Hey, do that again." A faint glimmer shined in the darkness again when he did. "Did you see it?" I asked him.

  "Yeah, what is that?" Almost all the way at the end of the wall right where we'd just passed, the light from the flashlight bounced off something shiny.

  "Over here," I said, getting closer. I felt the wall and knew I'd been lucky to see it ‘cause it was just a small thing, almost part of the wall itself.

  Round and chunky, it seemed like a knob of some kind. Not a doorknob, but more like it belonged on a drawer or dresser. Made of a heavy metal, its exterior was rough like some of it had chipped or rusted off.

  "Wonder what'll happen if we just pull on it?" He reached for it too, and I moved my hand so he could try. But as usual, nothing happened.

  "What about turning instead?" I asked. "Remember, right is tight and left is loose." Dad taught me that saying a long time ago so I'd know how to open jars. Surprisingly, it didn't take much—as if it had only been partially turned closed. Kind of like someone
didn't expect to be gone long.

  "It's moving!" Pushing his shoulder into the wall, it swung inward. Just like in cartoons when a magical doorway always seems to appear.

  The door wasn't made of brick, but some kind of wood with a brick pattern painted on it. Someone had done a pretty good job camouflaging it. There was a dim light in the corner of the room so my eyes had to adjust. Evan went first, and I just stuck my head in—ready to run for help if he got tackled.

  It was then I saw it. "Watch out!" I yelled, pulling his arm.

  "What's wrong?"

  "That!" I'd backed completely out of the doorway. "In the right corner. Lizard man, big, gross!" All the terror I'd felt before when I'd seen him flooded through me again.

  I squeezed my eyes shut and my feet were frozen in place. "Grab my hand!" I was hoping he'd pull me away, back to the exit of the tunnels, back to the ugly bush angels in the church courtyard.

  But not only wasn't he rescuing me, he wasn't answering, either. Where was Evan? I was too afraid to open my eyes. What if he was headless by now? I just needed to leave. Now. But it wasn't so easy. How could I desert him, even though he'd fully leave me to die if he'd seen the same thing? I'd be lucky if he'd draw the emergency responders a map.

  I was thinking about what to do when I heard Evan laughing and his voice, further inside the room, yelling, "It's a costume! You're afraid of a costume!"

  What? Costume? I opened one eye and crept forward.

  "Get out!" the little jerk yelled. Boys are just so mean sometimes. And boy was he cracking himself up, laughing like he was the funniest guy on the planet and we didn't have a life to save.

  Whatever. I tried to pretend like he wasn't getting to me, despite the fact my arm and neck hairs were saluting like soldiers. I rubbed my arms, trying to make them lie down.

  "Take it off, E, you never know what germs are in there," I grumbled, but got some satisfaction when he immediately pulled it off. I knew the germ-phobic card would work. He's the only guy I know who carries around anti-bacterial gel.

  Unlike the weird doorway, there wasn't anything else mysterious about the room. No cobwebs, no fog, no skeletons hanging from the ceiling. There was a bed, shirts and pants hanging from a metal clothes rack on wheels, a table with two chairs, a dresser with some framed pictures on top, and a fridge with something noisy in the corner next to it.

  "It's a generator," he answered before I had a chance to ask my question. "It's what keeps the fridge going."

  I saw a floor lamp and walked over to it. "The fridge and lights," I added as I pulled the small chain to turn it on. Eerie shadows appeared around the half-lit room. The far wall held book shelves, and when I got closer, I could see the books were stacked three deep. I pulled one out and realized it was one of my personal favorites. Treasure Island. The copy was worn, like it'd been read many times, and it had colorful illustrations that were super neat.

  "Intruders!"

  The book flew from my hands as I stumbled backwards. Evan screamed. I couldn't see who was there because he was standing in the shadows beyond the doorway. But I knew the voice.

  With the craziest eyes ever he ran at us, screaming words I couldn't understand. His arms were straight in front of him as he came at us and it looked like he was ready to strangle us. Backed up against the far wall with the creepy lizard costume hanging beside us, my cowardly best friend hid behind me. It was up to me to be the brave one.

  I took a chance. "George," my voice trembled, "we're not here to hurt you or your stuff!"

  He was so close I could see the surprise in his eyes. Hanging on to each other, we waited. My legs wobbled and Evan shook. Finally I spoke again. "We found the letters, George—we know about Emily. We know just about everything."

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  MORE BIG ANSWERS

  "And that's about it," I told him. We sat around a small dining table and I took a sip of the tea he'd made us after he'd snapped out of his psycho-trance. "It all started with me wanting to find the secret tunnels and the lizard people, but instead I found so much more. Like how you'd planned to use the tunnels as a place of safety for your family, and Emily's, too."

  George was quiet. You could tell it was a lot for him to take in. We were probably the only ones who'd ever seen this room, aside from Emily. "The threat was just so real then—it wasn't a matter of if we'd get bombed, but when." His voice wavered and his hand shook as he raised his teacup. "When I found the tunnels, it was just by accident. You know the tunnel under the church where I first saw you? They used to be connected to a whole system of tunnels."

  "So you're the one who filled in the archways with bricks?" Evan asked. "We've seen three so far."

  "Yes, and there's a few more." He got up and went over to the dresser, where all the framed photos sat. "The tunnels were our place," he began, holding up a picture which I'm sure was Emily, "and this room was where we spent the most time. We liked being alone, away from the worries of the world. When she was gone, I wanted to preserve what we'd done together. I know it must seem crazy, but it's all I have left of her."

  "Not crazy," I said, shaking my head for emphasis. Because I understood. I mean, I've never been in love but I'd been crushing pretty hard on David.

  "So how did you find the tunnels in the first place?" I wanted to keep him talking. Give him time to trust us. Hopefully then we'd be able to convince him to stick around and not fulfill the promise he'd made on the graveyard note.

  "Like I said, it was by accident." He paused and took a big breath and then blew it out, as if he was super tired. "Em used to work at the church and I'd help her out sometimes. We'd carry old church records and holiday decorations down here to store. Nobody else bothered with the church basement or the tunnels, so over the years it seemed like people forgot about them. The few who knew about them died. As soon as I closed off access to the tunnels, it was like they never existed. Until you came along." Hearing and seeing him now, I couldn't imagine being scared of him.

  "What about the hearts?" Evan asked, pointing to George's arm. "Emily said they marked the safe spots in the tunnels?"

  "Yup." He rubbed his heart tattoo as he spoke. "I put hearts on the ceiling where the tunnels were architecturally the strongest. I studied architecture and civil engineering in college before I was drafted, so I know quite a bit. I figured the heart was the best symbol to use because it was meant only for my loved ones. The hearts were a guide for them to use in case I wasn't around to show them where to go. Ironic, huh?" he asked and I noticed his eyes had filled with tears. "The one I loved the most, well, I couldn't protect her. She went to Europe to try to get me home safe and in the end I couldn't keep her safe. Had to come back to Citrus Grove without her." He dropped his head in his hands.

  Oh, boy. Now we'd upset him more. I nudged Evan to say something.

  "She was my great aunt," he finally mumbled. "Didn't know her, but my grandpa knew a lot about you and his sister—he said you were going to get married."

  George raised his head and stared straight at Evan. "You should know Edward was my best friend and your aunt, the love of my life." He paused and took a sip of his tea. "When I got back from Germany, I couldn't face Edward or most people around here. It's why I went underground. I felt ashamed about Emily—she'd died because of me. I hadn't protected her."

  Evan looked like he was about to cry. I knew he was thinking about Pops and Emily, who he'd come to care about since the day we'd started talking about her at the cemetery.

  "Now, now, son, it's going to be okay," he said as he patted Evan's back.

  "We know what you plan to do today, George," I said. "But we need you. Please say you'll stick around. We can be your family."

  But he acted like he hadn't heard me. I guess it'd take more than just one conversation to convince him to not take his life. I decided to change the subject, and since there'd been no more shaking, now seemed like a good time to ask.

  "Would you mind telling us what you know about the
tunnels?"

  He sat back and crossed his arms. If he was surprised by what I asked, he wasn't showing it.

  "Guess it shouldn't die with me," he said as he stood up and began to pace. "Truth be told, I'm not even sure who built them. Em thought it was the Native Americans, trying to find a way to hide from the Spaniards. But that wasn't important to me. All I cared was they were structurally sound and a good place for Em and I to hide." He stopped and stared around the room like he was lost for a moment. I got up and stood with him and so did Evan.

  I wrapped my fingers lightly around his forearm, right over the heart. "So the lizard costume was meant to keep people out of the hiding place you and Emily had together?"

  He nodded wearily, as if he'd given up. Hard to see, because I knew what it might mean.

  "And I didn't have ‘cause to wear the thing until you two came along. I knew about the legend, so it seemed like as good a costume as any to use. Pulled it out from under the stage at the old Fox Theater."

  Theater? The legend was just a big hoax? I wasn't sure if I should be sad or angry—this was my dream dying, after all. Evan saw my face and said reassuringly, "Don't worry…we might still find those old bones to prove the lizard guys used these tunnels."

  "Em used to talk about wanting to find proof of them, too." George chuckled then, and you could tell in the dim light even he was surprised by his reaction. He probably hadn't laughed in a long time. "I used to tell her it was hogwash, but you just never know."

  Hogwash? I needed to get out of here, my Life's Mission was more than that, I'm sure of it. Then I thought of something…something that might say all was not lost for my archaeology dreams. The unfinished letter stuck in the journal. The person who wrote it talked about a groundskeeper named George.

  "Ever hear of a secret room out at the mayor's mansion?" I asked him.

  When he heard the words it was the first time he didn't look like a man who was ready to die. "So you've seen the Roosevelt room, have you?"