The Merchant of Death

by D. J. MacHale

  When he opened the drawer this time, he wasn’t hit with the familiar warm wave of nostalgia. As he looked down at all his good junk, he had the strange feeling that it belonged to someone else. And in a way, it did. It belonged to the old Mark, the innocent Mark of yesterday, whose biggest concerns were about finishing homework on time and battling the acne that was running wild on his nose. But that was yesterday. Today he had to deal with issues that not only affected life and death on the far side of the universe, but raised serious questions about the reality of life in his own backyard. It wasn’t until Mark opened that drawer that he realized how much he had changed in the past few hours. He wanted to pick up the Chewbacca figure and let out a Chewie roar. He wanted to flip open aMad magazine and laugh at “Spy vs. Spy.” He wanted to walk the dog with the whistling yo-yo he had kept since his day at the state fair when he was six. Instead he found a cardboard box, pulled out the drawer and dumped everything into it. He closed the box and shoved it under the desk alongside all the other dusty, long-forgotten boxes full of long-forgotten stuff. It was like putting aside his old life to make room for the new one.

  This desk drawer was still going to be the place for Mark’s most valued possessions, but they were no longer the trinkets that held warm memories of childhood. This would now be the place to hold Bobby’s story. He carefully placed the rolled scrolls in the wooden drawer. They fit perfectly, front to back. Mark made a mental note that there would be room for many more scrolls. He usually kept the desk key in his bedroom desk, but that didn’t feel secure enough anymore. His mother had given him a silver chain that she used to wear when she was his age. It had a peace symbol on it and Mark had it hanging from his bedroom mirror. Mark took the chain down and replaced the pendant with the key. The chain then went around his neck, never to be away from him again. He now felt reasonably secure that Bobby’s pages were safe. Or at least as safe as he knew how to keep them.

  At sevenA .M. sharp Courtney’s doorbell rang. When she opened the door, Mark was standing there wearing a large backpack from L.L. Bean.

  “Did you sleep?” he asked.

  “No,” she answered. “Did you get any more pages?”

  “No,” he answered. “Let’s get this party started.”

  They went down to Courtney’s dad’s workshop, where Courtney had laid out all of the items from her half of the list.

  “Where are your parents?” Mark asked her.

  “They left for work.”

  “You know we have to cut school to do this,” Mark said.

  “Do you care?” asked Courtney.

  Mark didn’t have to answer. The two stood there looking at the items, not sure of what to do next. Courtney broke the tension.

  “Try the ring thing,” she said.

  Mark scanned the items and picked out the flashlight. It was roughly the same size as the rolled parchment pages and as good a candidate as any. He then took off the ring and put it on the floor. He knelt down, put his finger on the gray stone and looked at Courtney.

  “Go for it,” she encouraged.

  “Denduron,” whispered Mark. Nothing happened. “Denduron,” he said again, this time a bit louder. Still no reaction from the ring.

  “Let me try,” said Courtney and knelt down. She touched the ring and shouted, “Denduron!”

  They both looked at the ring, but it lay motionless on the ground.

  “I g-guess we’re going to the subway,” Mark said soberly.

  Courtney jumped up and started to pack the gear into Mark’s backpack. She moved fast, as if she were afraid she might chicken out if she stopped to think too much about what lay ahead.

  “I got a train schedule,” she said efficiently. “We can take the commuter train to 125th Street, then catch a subway from there.” When she finished packing, she closed up the buckles on the pack and looked at Mark. It was time to go.

  “Courtney,” said Mark sheepishly. “I’m scared.”

  The two let that admission hang in the air for a moment, then Courtney straightened up and said, “You know something? I’m not. We’re gonna do this.”

  It may have been a bold bluff, but seeing Courtney being her usual confident self gave Mark hope. Maybe they could do this. So he hoisted the pack onto his back and the two started for the train station.

  Stony Brook Station was at the bottom of the Ave. It was early so the platform was still packed with business commuters in suits who were on their way to work in New York City. Courtney and Mark had to keep one eye out for any parents who might know them and question why they weren’t in school. They saw one guy who Mark knew from Boy Scouts, but they saw him in time to make sure they boarded a different car when the train pulled into the station. They didn’t need to be so cautious. All the commuters had their heads buried in their newspapers and didn’t look at anyone else on the platform.

  The train ride into New York was a quiet one. The commuters who weren’t reading were asleep. It would have been hard for Courtney and Mark to discuss their mission for they definitely would have been overheard. Mark looked at the commuters reading their morning papers and had to laugh to himself. They were all reading articles about the stock market, or about sports, or about a speech the president had given at some parade. But whatever news they were reading about couldn’t compare to the very real story that he and Courtney were living out right in front of their noses. Mark could imagine the headline:LOCAL BOY FLUMED ACROSS THE UNIVERSE TO LEAD REVOLUTION . Nowthat’s a news story.

  All Courtney wanted to do was take these few minutes to relax. She knew that once they stepped off this train their adventure would begin and she wanted to be calm enough to handle whatever came their way. So she laid back in her seat, closed her eyes and tried to keep her heart from beating as fast as it was.

  In no time they arrived at their stop, 125th Street in Manhattan. The train would continue on from there to Grand Central Station, where most of the commuters were headed. But 125th Street was much closer to the Bronx, so with a silent nod Courtney and Mark got off the train.

  They had always heard their parents say that this was a bad section of town. They weren’t entirely sure what was meant by bad, but they were nervous just the same. One thing was certain. This wasn’t suburban Connecticut. They were in New York City with all the traffic, noise, and people congestion that New York is famous for. Courtney had a map of the New York City subways and had carefully plotted out a route to get close to Bobby’s abandoned subway station. It was a short walk from the 125th Street commuter trains to the nearest subway stop and they made it with no problem. They descended into the underground station, bought their tokens, and hit the trains.

  The subway trip to the Bronx was uneventful. The neighborhoods of New York that they traveled through were filled with people from all different nationalities and ethnic backgrounds and none of them were monsters. They were all just people going to work or going to school and generally living their lives. Under other circumstances, Courtney and Mark might have enjoyed this. But these weren’t other circumstances. They were on a mission.

  After changing trains twice, they arrived at the subway stop that was nearest to the abandoned one that Bobby had described. They climbed back up into the sunlight to see a Bronx neighborhood that was just as busy and diverse as the one where they had first gone underground.

  According to their map, Bobby’s subway stop was three blocks east from where they were. As they walked those few blocks, neither of them said it but each secretly wished that the subway station where Bobby and Uncle Press had gone, wouldn’t be there. They each held a slim hope that none of this was true and that Bobby was making the whole thing up. Those hopes totally disappeared when they reached the corner of a busy intersection and looked across to the far side.

  “Th-That’s it, isn’t it?” asked Mark nervously.

  Courtney didn’t have to answer. The station was exactly what Bobby had described. It was a small kiosk covered with cracked green paint. Mark gave a nervo
us look to Courtney, but Courtney kept her eyes on the building. She didn’t want Mark to see that she was starting to get nervous. Instead, she stepped off the curb and headed for the building. Mark had no choice but to follow. When they got to the kiosk, they looked down to see a cement stairway that was covered in garbage and debris. This was definitely an abandoned station. After a quick glance around to make sure nobody was watching, they ran down the steps. They hit a landing, turned, and were faced with the boarded-up entrance that Bobby had described.

  Courtney reached out, grabbed hold of one board, and pulled it aside as easily as Uncle Press had done. She had just opened up a dark doorway into the underground. Before they had the chance to change their minds, Courtney ducked in and disappeared. Mark took a scared breath and was right after her. He had to squeeze through with the pack, but he made it and closed the board up behind him. Everything was playing out exactly as it had for Bobby. But Courtney and Mark were now hoping that this is where the similarity would end. Neither of them wanted to run into Saint Dane or the quigs. They walked down the last few steps into the abandoned station and stood shoulder to shoulder, with every sense on full alert.

  “I feel like I’ve already been here,” Mark said in awe. Indeed, everything was just as Bobby had described. It was a lonely station that hadn’t seen passengers in years. Then they heard the distant rumble of an oncoming subway train. In a few seconds the train blasted into the station and thundered through without slowing down. This seemed to kick them back into gear.

  “C’mon,” said Courtney, and headed for the far end of the platform.

  “Wait,” said Mark and quickly took off the pack. He opened it up and dug deep down inside.

  “What are you doing?” asked Courtney.

  As he dug through the pack Mark said, “I brought a little insurance.” He found what he was looking for and pulled out a package wrapped in brown paper.

  “Was that on the list?” asked Courtney curiously.

  “No, it’s a little something I added.” He unwrapped the paper to reveal two huge, succulent steaks. He held them up proudly. “A bribe, just in case we run into some hungry quigs.”

  Courtney had to smile. “I don’t care what anybody says, you’re good.” She then grabbed the steaks and walked off. Mark smiled proudly at the compliment, but then the smile dropped when he realized it wasn’t exactly the greatest compliment in the world. He picked up the pack and hurried after her.

  They reached the end of the platform and saw the small set of stairs leading down to the dark tracks.

  “This looks hairy,” declared Mark. “What if the gate door isn’t there?”

  “Everything he described so far has been true,” said Courtney. “I gotta believe this will be too.”

  Just then they heard another train approaching. They took a few steps back from the edge of the platform and a few seconds later, the train flashed through, moving fast. The idea of being down on those tracks when a train came through was a frightening one.

  “Gulp,” said Mark.

  “Don’t think, move!” shouted Courtney. She ran to the edge of the platform and disappeared down onto the tracks. It was kind of like jumping into cold ocean water. The longer you thought about it, the more reasons you’d come up with to wait. It was better just to do it and that’s what she did.

  Mark was right behind her. He ran across the platform and hurried down the stairs to find Courtney below, pressing her back against the wall.

  “I can’t believe I did that,” she said, panting hard.

  “Yeah, me neither, but don’t stop now,” he added.

  With Courtney in the lead, the two made their way cautiously along the tunnel. It was dark and they didn’t want to risk wandering out onto the tracks so Courtney kept one hand on the grimy, greasy wall.

  “How far did he say the door was?” asked Courtney.

  “I don’t remember,” was Mark’s answer. “Just keep—” That’s when he heard it.

  “What was that?” he asked.

  “What was what?”

  “I heard something, like a growl.” Mark grabbed one of the steaks back from Courtney and held it out. “Gooood doggy! Goooood doggy!”

  Then Courtney heard it too. It was faint, but unmistakable.

  “That’s not a growl,” she said. “That’s a train! Another train is coming!”

  A blast from the train’s horn told them she was right. Another train was coming and the two were caught. They didn’t know which way to run.

  “I’m going back!” shouted Mark and turned to run back for the platform. But Courtney grabbed him by the pack and held him tight.

  “No!” she commanded. “We can’t be far!”

  She turned and continued to make her way along the wall as Mark pushed her from behind. It was getting hard to see because the train had just rounded a curve ahead and its headlight was shining right in their eyes. And it was coming fast.

  “Hurry!” pleaded Mark.

  Courtney desperately felt at the wall, then tripped over a switch and fell to her knees. Mark quickly pulled her to her feet and pushed her forward. The train was now getting dangerously close. The racket from the wheels on the track was deafening. There wasn’t much space between the wall of the tunnel and the track.

  “We’re not gonna make it!” Courtney shouted. “Press against the wall!”

  Mark pulled off his pack and flattened his back against the wall. The train was only a few yards away. The two held hands tightly. Mark closed his eyes. Courtney pressed against the wall and slid her hand out in one last desperate attempt to find the door. She leaned forward a few more inches…and her hand found something.

  “I got it!” she shouted.

  The train was right there. Its horn blasted. Courtney held on tight to Mark’s hand and dove for what she hoped was the gate. She pushed against the dark recess and it gave way. Courtney and Mark tumbled inside just as the train flashed by. In seconds it was gone and all was as quiet as it had been only a few moments before. Courtney and Mark lay on the ground, totally out of breath. It took a minute for them to get their heads back together, and when they did they both looked up and saw it at the same time.

  “Whoa,” was all Mark could say in awe.

  It was the rocky gray tunnel. With their eyes fixed on the craggy portal, they both stood up. Courtney then hurried back to the wooden door they had just come through and poked her head outside.

  “It’s here,” she announced. “The star, just like Bobby said.”

  She came back inside to join Mark, who kept staring into the tunnel.

  “This is it,” he said with growing excitement. “It’s all true. Everything Bobby wrote is true.”

  This was as far as Bobby’s instructions took them. In his letter, he wrote for them to come to the gate and wait. But wait for what? They stood there for a few minutes, not exactly sure of what to do next. Finally Courtney looked at Mark with a mischievous smile and said, “I’m gonna try it.”

  She took a step toward the mouth of the gray tunnel, but Mark pulled her back.

  “Don’t!” he yelled nervously.

  “Why not? If Bobby can do it, I can do it,” was her typical Courtney-esque response. She shook Mark off and stepped into the mouth of the flume. Mark backed away and watched nervously as Courtney faced the depths of the endless, dark tunnel. She stood up straight, gave a quick glance to Mark, then turned back toward the darkness and said, “Denduron!”

  Nothing happened. Zero. They could hear the word echo back from the tunnel, but besides that, nothing.

  “It’s gotta be the same as the ring,” said Mark. “If you’re not a Traveler, you don’t have the power.”

  Courtney backed out of the tunnel with a look of definite disappointment. She was psyched to take the magic carpet ride of light that Bobby had described, but it was not meant to be. “So why is it that Bobby has the power?” she asked, a little bit peeved. “What makes him so special that—”

  “Shhh!
” Mark held his hand up to quiet Courtney.

  “What?” asked Courtney.

  “Do you hear that?”

  Courtney listened and then said, “It must be another train coming.”

  “No,” said Mark as he strained to listen harder. “It’s not a train. It sounds like…like…music.”

  Courtney listened harder, and soon she heard it too. Itwas music. Far off music. But it wasn’t a tune. It was more like a jumble of sweet, high notes.

  “I’ve heard that before,” exclaimed Mark. “When the ring opens up.” He glanced down at the ring on his finger, but the gray stone wasn’t glowing. No, this music wasn’t coming from the ring. Courtney looked into the tunnel, and what she saw made her jaw drop open in surprise.