Jack took the lead and made his way carefully through the crowded pine branches. When they found their way into taller hardwoods, the going was easier, but they had to pick their way through several marshy areas by jumping from frost heave to frost heave.
“This sucks,” said Ben. “Can’t we go back out to the path.”
“I think we’re almost there,” said Jack.
Minutes later, Jack’s prediction came true. A bright spot up ahead marked where the woods gave way to clearing. Pushing through the last of the underbrush, they saw the hotel from a new angle.
“We have to go back to walking up the gully again,” said Jack. He pointed at a worn down path in the grass. They had resorted to this shortcut when they started carrying the stepladder.
“How many times have we been here?” asked Ben. “When did we find this place—last week?”
“Um, today’s Monday and we first found the hotel last Monday,” said Jack. “So about a week. But we haven’t been here every day.”
“And we didn’t get inside until like Thursday or something,” said Stephen.
“So do you think that stomped-down path is just from us over the past week?” asked Ben.
“Sure,” said Jack, “I think so.”
“Yeah, why not?” asked Stephen.
“I don’t know,” said Ben. “Seems like we wouldn’t have made that whole path in just a week. Besides, we went up the gully the first couple of times.”
“Let’s put up something on the path to see if someone goes through there,” Jack offered.
“What, like a camera?” asked Ben.
“I was thinking just a piece of fishing line across the path or something,” replied Jack.
“Oh—yeah, that’s easy,” said Ben.
They circled the clearing and retrieved the ladders from the hiding place. Stephen and Ben carried them up the gully while Jack went up their old path to set the fishing line. He pushed two small sticks into the ground on either side of the trail and then strung the line. He made sure that it was easily dislodged and hoped it wouldn’t be noticeable. When he arrived at the hotel, Stephen and Ben had already climbed onto the porch roof. Jack joined them and they hauled the step ladder up to reach the hatch.
“Did we leave the panel like this?” asked Stephen. The panel that hid the switch was not quite settled, and a little askew.
“Who knows—I was covered in red dye,” said Jack. “I think we might be getting a little paranoid.”
“We have to stay careful,” said Ben. “We can’t get sloppy.”
With that admonishment, they repeated the steps required to make it back to where Jack had been drenched in red dye. Through the hatch, down the rope-ladder, through the drawing room, up the shocking ladder, through the bishop’s room, and past the tripwire hallway—the boys moved with confidence. A blotchy trail of dried dye on the floor marked their hurried exit. They weren’t surprised to find that the ladder had receded up into the ceiling, but disappointed they didn’t know exactly how to get back in the white room.
“You just made us turn off our lights and then the door opened,” said Ben.
They had been sitting in the dark for over five minutes, and wall remained closed—no doorway had appeared.
“Did we do something else, and not realize it?” asked Stephen.
“I think we were standing more over here,” said Jack. He turned on his light and pointed over towards the dead-end of the hall.
“That could be it,” said Stephen. He and Ben joined Jack, and Jack extinguished his light again.
“Maybe someone let us in last time,” said Ben.
“What do you mean?” asked Jack.
“I’m just saying—someone may be listening to us talk and then they opened the door,” Ben replied.
“That’s creepy,” said Stephen. “I don’t think there’s anyone here.”
“You
hope
there’s not,” said Ben.
At that moment, they heard the garage-door sound and the crack of light appeared before them.
“See?” said Ben.
“Coincidence,” said Jack. “We just don’t know what we’re doing to trigger it.”
“Or maybe it just happens every ten minutes or something,” said Stephen.
“Whatever,” said Ben.
Through the door first, Jack walked over to the corner that he and Stephen had seen on the drawing. He stood close to the wall and looked at it from several angles.
“What’s over there?” asked Ben.
“I thought I saw something,” replied Jack.
“I’m going to hit this button,” said Stephen. He reached with stretched fingers and pressed on the center of the palm-shaped button again. The plastic scissored closed, encircling his fingers again.
“Who’s got the box-cutter?” asked Jack. He was tapping with his fingertips on the wall near the corner. The wall sounded hollow.
“Right here,” said Stephen, pointing over his shoulder to his backpack.
“I think there’s something behind this wall,” said Jack. “Or not something—see the studs stop here.” He pointed to a spot a few feet from the corner.
“Shouldn’t we be trying to figure out that ladder?” asked Ben.
“I think the ladder’s a trap,” said Jack.
“What?” Ben asked, surprised. “Why do you think that?”
“I don’t know—just a feeling I guess,” said Jack.
“We saw plans,” interjected Stephen.
“What plans?” asked Ben.
“On the computer—when you were asleep last night,” replied Stephen.
They explained the memory card and its contents.
Ben was confused and angry: “I can’t believe you guys didn’t tell me.”
“We’re telling you now,” Jack said. “And I’m sorry.”
“Screw you guys—I’m leaving,” said Ben.
“Oh man,” said Stephen, “don’t do that. It’s my fault. I told Jack that you were too scared and you would be freaked out.”
“What the hell?” asked Ben. “I’ve been here the whole fucking time. I’m not scared of shit, but you guys are being totally stupid.”
“But this makes it safer,” said Jack. He crossed over to where Ben stood. Stephen still had his hand on the button. “We know not to use that ladder now, and we can find the real way to level two.”
“What did the plans say?” asked Ben.
Stephen and Jack looked at each other, but neither spoke.
“Seriously—what was on there? Why don’t you want to use the ladder?” asked Ben.
“It was a skull and crossbones at that ladder,” said Jack. “But there’s another ladder back here.”
“Oh great,” said Ben. “So now we know that there’s a deathtrap here and you still want to go to fucking level two?”
“But we
know
about it,” said Jack. “We’ll be okay.”
“But why?” pleaded Ben. “What do you expect to find, and why is it worth risking your neck?”
“I don’t know,” said Jack. “It’s cool.”
“Yeah,” added Stephen, “and it’s got to be something good.”
“You guys go up to level two,” said Ben. “I’m staying here.”
“Shit,” said Jack. “Don’t do that.”
“Right here,” said Ben. He lowered himself to the floor and leaned back against the wall. “Give me a walkie-talkie and I’ll stay right here.”
“C’mon,” Stephen said to Jack. “Let’s get through that wall.” He pointed to the corner and pulled off his backpack. He rummaged around and pulled out a walkie-talkie, which he handed to Ben. He handed the box-cutter to Jack.
“Okay,” said Jack. He cut a small hole in the hollow part of the wall. The box-cutter moved easily through the drywall, and soon Jack was peering into the gloom on the other side of the wall. “There’s a ladder back there,” he said with triumph in his voice.
“Cool,” said Stephen. “See if you can pull that panel.” He reached past Jack, put three fingers through the hole and pulled. The panel was loose from floor to ceiling, only held in place by tape and paint. They pulled the panel away from the wall enough so they could squeeze through.
Jack turned back to Ben and asked, “You coming?”
“No,” Ben replied.
Stephen was already halfway through the hole. When his feet disappeared, Jack followed along -dropping to the floor and squeezing between the wall and the loose panel. He found close quarters inside the wall, but the space contained a ladder.
“Help me push this out,” said Stephen. Together they pressed on the drywall and pulled the rest of the tape holding the panel in place. It popped away from the wall after a few seconds of pushing and they exposed the full entrance to the ladder.
Jack looked back to Ben once more. Ben stared down at his own knees.
“Careful,” said Jack, turning back to Stephen.
Stephen had climbed to the point where his head was about level with the ceiling.
“Be careful with the rungs,” said Jack. “We’ve had two traps that involved grabbing the rung of the ladder just above the ceiling.”
“Well what do you want me to do?” asked Stephen.
“Hold up,” said Jack. He got out the broom handle and taped the mirror to the end at an angle. “Look with this.” he handed up the makeshift periscope to Stephen.
“It’s hard to see,” said Stephen. “But I don’t think there’s any traps.”
“Is there anything on the floor, around the ladder hole?” Jack asked.
“Nope, just plywood,” said Stephen. “I don’t see anything.”
“Maybe you can pull yourself up without grabbing the ladder,” proposed Jack.
“Yeah,” said Stephen, “I think so. Let me try.” Stephen reached up to either side of the hole and grabbed the floor of the next level. Pushing with his legs and pulling with his arms, he ascended.
Jack saw Stephen’s light moving around above him—“What’s up there?”
Stephen’s face appeared in the hole. “Just another room—and there’s nothing attached to this ladder, so you can just climb up it.”
Jack followed up the ladder and pulled himself up the same way Stephen had. Jack blinked and waited for his eyes to adjust to the dark. A significant amount of light was coming up from where the ladder came through the floor, but it only illuminated a small radius. They stood on an unfinished plywood floor, and overhead they saw joists stuffed with insulation.
“Is this the attic?” asked Jack.
“Nah, can’t be—the ceiling isn’t slanted,” replied Stephen. “It would slope up.”
Stephen pointed his light at the floor and walked cautiously away from the ladder. The wall he encountered was framed, but not finished. He was looking at bare studs, through which ran power and water pipes.
“It’s like we’re inside the walls,” said Stephen.
“Thick walls,” said Jack. He had headed the opposite direction and discovered the room was about ten feet wide.
“Let’s try this way,” Stephen pointed.
The room turned out to be significantly longer than wide, and they walked thirty feet before they reached another wall.
“Should we break through?” asked Jack. “Feels pretty solid.”
“I think it’s like brick or something behind here,” said Stephen.
“How about the other direction?” asked Jack.
They headed towards the ladder and then past it. In this direction, the room continued for while and then took a ninety-degree turn right. After rounding the corner, they stopped in their tracks. Ahead of them, just in view of their flashlights, they found the top of the other ladder and the mechanism to lower it down. The whole apparatus looked sticky with red dye. The ladder didn't draw their attention though—their eyes locked on the shiny blades affixed to the ceiling.
“That’s the deathtrap,” said Jack slowly. “Those things would have swung down and cut me in half.”
“I think you’re right,” said Stephen. “Good thing you turned around.”
Approaching carefully, the boys gave the blades a wide berth.
“Jeez, that
is
pretty dangerous,” said Jack.