by Mark Frost
They all jumped out and dragged the raft toward the tree line. Nick hopped down from the tree and ran to help them. They yanked it out of sight and dove for cover just as both cameras swung around to their side of the beach.
They waited until the cameras swiveled back the other way, then worked to conceal the raft with loose branches. Will felt a rush of light-headedness and slumped to his knees, heaving for breath after his double exertion. Brooke saw him go down and knelt beside him, concerned.
“Your heart rate’s sky-high,” Brooke whispered, taking his hand. “And your pulse is erratic. Are you all right?”
Will nodded, still unable to speak.
“Take a deep breath,” she said quietly.
Will took in a full breath and felt his heart decelerate out of the red zone. He felt instantly calmer. “How did you know my heart rate before checking my pulse?”
Brooke thought about it a moment. “I don’t know. I wasn’t wrong, was I?”
Will shook his head.
She took his hand again. “It’s slowing now. But you were up near two hundred a minute before, and your blood pressure was sky-high. What did you do to yourself on the raft?”
Will didn’t want to answer—Brooke had never seen him use his telekinetic ability, and they’d never talked about it—but before he could answer, Elise cleared her throat, drawing their attention. She and the others were crouched behind them, watching and waiting. Brooke withdrew her hand. Will avoided meeting Elise’s eye.
“Do you think their control center noticed those two cameras slow down?” asked Ajay, glancing nervously toward the castle.
“They probably would have reacted by now,” said Will, climbing back to his feet. “But let’s make sure.”
“Dudes, it was the coolest thing,” said Nick, putting his clothes back on over his suit. “I’m hauling butt, right, way under water, when all of a sudden I just know I gotta stop. So I surface and sure enough there’s this guard dude smoking on a rock. I totally had a precondition about him.”
Elise and Will glanced at each other and had to suppress a smile.
“Precognition,” said Ajay. “Not precondition. Stupid is a precondition, which you also have.”
“Dude,” said Nick. “You need a checkup from the neck up.”
Everyone shouldered their bags and followed Will into the woods. He found a simple footpath, little more than a deer trail that led toward the castle. No one spoke, and Will used hand signals from in front to direct them. The woods thinned out about a hundred yards on and Will took his bearings off the rear, guiding them toward the wooden structure over the hatch.
The whole stretch of open area behind the house was empty. They heard no sounds coming from the castle and few lights were on. When Haxley was away, Will figured the staff probably retired to their wing by early evening. When the rear door came into view, he signaled, everyone dropped to a crouch, and he scanned the windows with binoculars.
Under a bright hanging lamp, Lemuel Clegg sat at the kitchen table, hunched over paperwork, his back to the window. Will saw no one else inside or out.
“Hunker down here for a minute,” said Will. “I’m going to go check out the graveyard.”
Ajay handed him a small pen. “That should do the job nicely.”
Will made a dash to the left, away from the house, circling back through the woods. Turning up the speed and relying on his memory of its location to guide him, the old graveyard soon came into view.
He hopped the fence around the 1938 plane crash memorial and took out the pen Ajay had given him. Removing the cap, he revealed the lens of a hidden digital camera. Will focused it on the list of names engraved on the base and snapped four pictures, a tiny LED flash illuminating the letters. He wasn’t able to read all twelve names in the gathering darkness, but in the momentary flash his eye caught the one he’d been hoping to find. Will pocketed the pen and retraced his path back to where his friends were hiding.
“Any luck?” whispered Ajay.
“Raymond Llewelyn is on the stone,” said Will.
“So Nepsted’s story is righteous,” said Elise.
“As far as someone at the school at that time having that name is concerned, yes.” Will took the stolen key ring out of his bag and handed it to Nick. “Let’s move. It’s all clear.”
“Which key is it?” asked Nick. “There’s five on here.”
“Don’t know. Try ’em until you find one that works.”
“Everyone please activate your communications system,” said Ajay, fine-tuning the controls on his belt. “And put in your earpieces.”
They all turned on walkie-talkies attached to their belts, plugged in Bluetooth earbuds, and switched on. Ajay tested the system with each of them, then handed a small handcrafted device from his bag to Nick, a black box the size of a cell phone with an exterior armature.
“I designed this specifically for the job,” said Ajay, “but the dimensions are only estimates. You’ll have to adjust the arms once you fit it onto the frame.”
“I got it, I got it,” said Nick. He slipped the device in his pocket and gave them both a wink and a cocky grin. “Showtime.”
Will checked his watch. “Go.”
Nick crabbed his way toward the hatch’s wooden structure, about fifty feet away.
“Is that gizmo going to work?” asked Elise.
“It worked in prototype,” said Ajay. “But since Tarzan of the Apes is using it, past results do not guarantee future performance.”
“Elise, watch Nick through your glasses,” said Will. “I’ll keep an eye on the guy in the kitchen. Ajay, you scan the whole area in front. Brooke, back toward the lake.”
Nick made slow progress, staying low so the camera poised above the hatch wouldn’t spot him. When he got close, he couldn’t resist a couple of gymnastic tumbles that brought him to the back of the structure.
“How’s it looking?” Nick whispered over his walkie.
“Clear,” said Will.
Nick eased around the structure; this would be the most vulnerable moment, in plain view if anyone passed by or looked out a window and completely out of his roommates’ sight. If anyone in the control center happened to glance at the camera over the hatch at that moment they were screwed.
Nick took out Ajay’s device, opened the armature, and attached it around the frame of the security camera that was pointed at the hatch. He unfolded it the rest of the way, positioning the black screen directly between the camera and the hatch.
“Done,” said Nick, whispering into his mic. “Fits like a glove.”
Ajay smiled at Will. “Now take the picture.”
Nick touched a button on the device, and an image of the hatch appeared on the screen.
“Got it,” said Nick.
“You are exceeding my expectations,” whispered Ajay, watching him closely. “Now reverse it and push the other button.”
Nick pivoted the screen around in its frame so it was now pointing toward the security camera, with the image Nick had just taken of the hatch still on the screen.
“Is this going to work?” asked Brooke.
“One minute,” said Will, looking at his watch. “If no guards head our way we’ll know.”
They waited. Elise peered out, scanning both sides of the house.
“No one’s coming,” she said.
“Okay, admit it,” said Ajay with a cocky grin. “I’m a little bit of a genius.”
“Try the lock, Nick,” said Will into his mic.
Nick moved out of their sight. “I’m there,” they all heard him whisper. “It’s a big fat sucker. Trying the first key … no go. Now the second … ix-nay on the econd-say. Third … dude, key slipped right in, turning, and … winner, winner, chicken dinner. Hatch is open.”
“Close it and get back behind the structure,” said
Will. “Everybody switch your headlamps on.”
Nick rolled back into sight to the rear of the structure. They all took out an elastic strap with a small LED light attached and put it around their foreheads.
“Nick, I’m coming to you,” said Will. “Head down the ladder, one at a time, in the order we discussed.”
Will hurried forward and joined Nick behind the structure, leaning against it, shoulder to shoulder.
“On three,” Will said to Nick.
Nick gave him a thumbs-up. Will counted with his fingers: on three they moved around opposite sides of the structure. Will lifted the hatch and Nick stepped inside, found the ladder, and quickly lowered out of sight. Will set the hatch back down and scurried back behind the structure. Brooke was waiting there for him.
“You good, Nick?” asked Will.
“Hanging in there,” said Nick. “Send the next victim.”
Will turned to Brooke, who looked nervous, and put his hands on her shoulders. “Hold on to the rungs with both hands. Don’t look down. Nick’s there to spot you. You’ll be fine.”
“I’ll be fine,” said Brooke, steadily meeting his eye.
“You’re sure you want to do this?” he asked, taking her hand.
“A little late in the game for second thoughts, but thanks for asking. And yes, I’m sure.”
“On three,” said Will into his mic.
They moved around the structure together. Will lifted the hatch and saw Nick’s headlamp illuminate the top of the ladder. Brooke dropped to her knees, turned, found the first rungs, and climbed out of sight. Will lowered the hatch and hurried back behind the shed.
Elise knelt there waiting for him, eyes alert, on edge but in command, riding her adrenaline like it was one of her horses.
“I love that we’re doing this,” she whispered, with an all-world smile.
“Me too,” said Will, feeling the same kick as he lifted his hand to count. “On three.”
“Someone’s coming,” they heard Ajay whisper in their ears.
Will and Elise froze.
“Who is it?” asked Will.
“A guard—no, two guards. And they have a dog.”
“Where?” asked Will.
“It’s a very big dog.”
“Where are they, Ajay?”
“They’re rounding the side of the house nearest to you,” said Ajay. “Looks like a regular patrol and … oh dear …”
“Oh dear what?”
“The dog appears to be a Boerboel.”
“What’s a Boerboel?” asked Will.
“An exceptionally large and relatively rare South African mastiff bred exclusively for home protection on the veldt and renowned for its ability to hunt and kill lions—”
“Got it, Ajay,” interrupted Will. “Do they know we’re here?”
“Not yet,” said Ajay. “The breeze is predominantly from the west, so I don’t think the dog smells—Sorry, I spoke too soon.”
“What?”
“The dog has just caught your scent and it’s leading them in your direction. Did I mention the breed’s extraordinary sense of smell?”
Will turned to Elise and knew she was already thinking what he was thinking.
“We’ll take care of it,” said Will.
“And, Will, even by Boerboel standards, this appears to be an exceptionally large Boerboel,” said Ajay.
“Do I need to come back up there and kick its tail?” asked Nick over the system.
“I said we’ll take care of it,” said Will. “Where are they?”
“Rapidly approaching your position, about fifty feet to your right,” whispered Ajay.
Will chanced a look around the edge and saw the guards and their dog heading straight toward them, flashlights cutting through the deepening twilight.
“That is a really big dog,” whispered Will to Elise.
Want me to try first? she asked silently.
Will nodded.
Elise eased to the edge of the structure and opened her mouth. Will couldn’t hear anything, but he knew she was putting out sound on a frequency that humans couldn’t hear.
“The dog’s stopped,” said Ajay. “It hears something—hold on. Check that. Actually it’s going bananas, bucking around and yanking at the leash. The guards are freaking out.”
Will leaned around the edge and pushed a picture at the dog—he hadn’t tried this on an animal since the first time he figured out he had the ability at five years old, but why not?
A lion. On the other side of the island, down near the main landing. Raising its head and letting out a roar like that old movie logo—
“Oh, this is very good. The dog’s broken free,” said Ajay. “It’s tearing off in the other direction, toward the dock, and the guards are chasing after it.”
Elise looked at Will with a crooked smile.
A lion? she asked.
Will shrugged. Elise had to stifle a laugh.
“Shake a leg, Dr. Doolittle,” she said.
They hustled around the side and in five seconds Elise was down the hatch. Five seconds later Will was back behind the wall beside Ajay, wide-eyed, breathing hard.
“I don’t have fond memories of that ladder, Will,” said Ajay. “I know you wanted me to take the next spot but would you mind letting me go last so I can descend at my own pace?”
“I need to close the hatch, Ajay,” said Will. “Don’t worry about pace. Just picture a Boerboel breathing down your neck.”
Will peeled around the side and opened the hatch. Ajay dropped to the ground and slowly slid backward until his feet found the rungs.
“Why on earth did I agree to this?” moaned Ajay. “I possess the proper technology. I could’ve monitored this whole operation from the comfort of my quarters.”
“Piece of cake,” said Will. “You got this.”
Will held Ajay’s arm until he found and gripped the ladder with both hands. Will reached down and switched on Ajay’s headlight.
“If I fall, at least I’ll end up on the girls,” said Ajay with a weak smile, and then disappeared down the hole. “A much more agreeable place to land, wouldn’t you agree?”
Will slithered in after Ajay. He half closed the hatch, turned himself around, found the ladder with his feet and one hand, then replaced the lock on the hasp—without fastening it—and slowly lowered the hatch after him with the other.
TEOTWAWKI
Everyone climbed down in calm and orderly fashion. Their headlamps provided ample light and not even Ajay panicked. When he finally set foot at the bottom, they realized why he hadn’t complained about anything during the descent.
“Three hundred and thirty-nine rungs,” said Ajay. “Twelve inches apart, so I estimate we’re currently three hundred and forty-three feet underground, but let me confirm that …”
As Ajay took out a small, multipurpose GPS device from one of the many pockets on his vest, Will jumped down the last few feet and landed beside him.
“We must be even deeper than the lake,” said Brooke.
Ajay held up his GPS. “Three hundred and forty-four feet to be exact. Around the island—the shallow end of the lake, as it happens—the bottom is sixty feet at its deepest. So, yes, Brooke, we are considerably below the bottom of the lake.”
Everyone took out powerful, compact flashlights from their bags and switched them on.
“We’re in the same rough-hewn rock-walled chamber as before,” said Ajay, turning his light around the room. “And that tunnel, the only way out, leads south toward the lake.”
“Nothing’s changed,” said Nick.
“Only one thing.” Will shined his flashlight up to take one last look at the ladder. “This time no one knows we’re down here.” He took the lead. “Let’s get moving.”
Will led them out of the
chamber into the tunnel, with Nick bringing up the rear. Elise trailed a hand along the walls.
“The rocks are sweating,” she said.
“That’s the lake’s downward pressure,” said Ajay. “Seeking the water table below us.”
“That’s ridiculous,” said Nick.
“How so?”
“You can’t make a table out of water,” said Nick, then a moment later. “A bed, maybe.”
The tunnel sloped gradually lower, at least another twenty-five feet, its walls shored up with massive, weathered slabs of timber. They heard the steady plink of water dripping all around them, and the floor of the tunnel underfoot grew slick with moisture.
“Now we’re directly under the lake,” said Ajay, nervously glancing at his GPS.
“You can feel the weight of it,” said Brooke.
“This tunnel’s been here a really long time,” said Elise, shining her light around the timbers.
“At least one hundred and fifty years,” said Ajay. “You may recall my theory that the tunnels were dug out by the same man who built the castle.”
“I found a book about him in the library last year, remember?” asked Brooke.
“Mr. Elliot mentioned him yesterday,” said Will. “His name was Ian Cornish.”
“Ian Lemuel Cornish,” said Ajay.
“His middle name was Lemuel?” asked Will, whipping around toward Ajay.
“Yes, why?”
“That’s the first name of Haxley’s butler. He told me it was an old family name.”
“Gots to be his old family, then, dude,” said Nick, shaking his head. “Lemuel? What were they smokin’?”
“Could just be coincidence,” said Elise.
“Or a descendant of the Cornish family is working as a butler in the house his great-great-something-or-other built,” said Ajay.
“Which would explain why he acts like he owns the place,” said Will. “Give us the download on Cornish, Ajay.”
“Ian Lemuel Cornish, a Boston weapons manufacturer, specializing in rifles and ammunition, who built a tremendous fortune during the Civil War,” said Ajay as he stopped and looked up to the right. “Heartbroken when he learned his beloved son Josiah had been killed at the Battle of Appomattox Court House the day before the war ended, he took a long trip through Europe. When he returned, Cornish moved west to Wisconsin and built this castle, patterned after one of the romantic follies he’d seen in Germany while sailing down the Rhine.”
