“Yeah,” said Jack, “that’s why I keep thinking they’re connected.”
“You just want everything to tie up neatly,” said Ben.
“Well I guess it doesn’t really matter much,” said Jack. “If they are connected Anderson is in jail anyway, and if they’re not, there’s no reason to believe that the hotel guy is still around.”
“Except that’s exactly what I believe,” said Ben.
“Yeah,” smiled Jack, “but aside from that.”
“You think it’s a joke,” said Ben. “We’ll see.”
“Hey, that reminds me, we have to do those essays,” said Jack.
**********
Wednesday was sunny and the boys told Jack’s mom that they were going to catalogue the species of reptiles near the creek. They had already written essays about it and hidden them in Jack’s shirt drawer. They planned to set out after breakfast.
While Jack and Stephen did the dishes, Ben tried to reach his mother on the phone. He came back to the kitchen to find his friends just wrapping up their chores.
“What’d she say?” asked Jack.
“I still can’t get her,” said Ben. “At the house the answering machine picks up, and her cell phone is off.”
“What about your brother’s phone?” Jack asked.
“Nothing,” replied Ben.
“I bet she lost her cell again,” said Ben. “That’s all I can think.”
“Yeah, but why wouldn’t she get your message?” asked Jack.
“She hardly ever checks it,” said Ben. “Whatever. I’m sure she’ll get back to me soon.”
“We ready?” asked Jack.
“Why not,” said Ben.
They grabbed their packs, put on sunscreen so Jack’s mom wouldn’t worry, and headed out. Since it was fairly early, they decided to risk the path, but they didn’t talk to one another so they could listen for Smoker. Jack took the lead and paused every hundred yards, to hear if anything was following them. They verified Jack’s fishing line still stretched across the path, and were unsurprised that the new envelope hadn’t arrived.
Jack led them rapidly through the hotel’s passages, checking his notebook at each room to be sure they remembered each trick. They had grown accustomed to waiting for the white room, so they talked and sat in the dark for over fifteen minutes.
“This sucks—it’s not going to open,” said Jack. He turned on his light.
“Maybe it’s us,” said Ben. “Try turning off the light again and let’s all just be quiet.”
“You think someone is listening?” asked Stephen, dubious.
“It could be simpler than that. Maybe it’s just a motion or noise sensor,” answered Ben. “I’m pretty sure the light
has
to be off, but maybe we have to be still and quiet too.”
“Worth a shot,” said Jack.
After they had extinguished their lights and sat quiet for two minutes, the door began to open.
“See?” gloated Ben.
When they arrived at the spiral room with the door under the stairs, the scene jogged Jack’s memory. “Hey Ben, set your watch alarm for eleven a.m., would you?”
“Sure,” said Ben. “Why? You want to turn around then?”
“Not necessarily, but I want to make the decision then,” said Jack.
“Okay,” said Ben.
Today the maze was no challenge. On the way out on Monday they had added to their markings. Each time they reached a new decision point they had marked the way out, but when they followed those markings, they also marked the way they had come. This gave them a series of indicators that showed both the way in and out.
“This is awesome, Jack,” commented Ben. “I’m going to tell my brother about marking both directions.”
When they reached the ledge none of the boys wanted a boost. They wanted to try Jack’s method of vaulting up to the next level. Stephen had to try several times, but Ben was a natural once he watched Jack accomplish the jump.
Soon the door stood before them. Jack approached it first. He hunched over; it only came up to his stomach.
“This thing is tiny,” said Jack. He ran his hand over the panels. The hinges were visible, so he guessed that it would open towards him. Jack got down on the plywood floor and tried to look under the crack of the door. He saw only black.
“Let’s just try it,” said Stephen. “What’s the worst that could happen.”
“Plenty,” said Ben.
“I’m going to try it,” said Jack.
Ben retreated a step and Stephen moved to Jack’s side as he reached for the ornate handle.
“I wonder where you even get a door handle that size,” said Jack, stalling.
Jack knelt and put his hand on the door knob. His grip swallowed the small brass knob. “Won’t turn,” he said.
“What?” asked Stephen. “Let me try.”
Jack backed away and let Stephen try the knob. Failing his first attempt, Stephen handed back his flashlight and tried with both hands.
“It’s not like it’s locked,” said Stephen, grunting. “It’s like it’s stuck. If it were locked, I think this handle would turn. I mean it has a separate hole for a key—so it’s not the deadbolt. Anyone got a credit card? My dad showed me how to open a door with one.”
“Can’t you just take the hinges off?” asked Ben. He pointed at the exposed hinges on the left side.
“Maybe,” said Jack. “Who has the screwdriver?”
“Right here,” Stephen pulled one from his pack and handed it to Jack.
Kneeling, Jack started with the bottom hinge. The pin was stubborn, but Jack got it started by wedging the blade of the screwdriver below its head and pounding the handle with his palm. The first inch was difficult, then the pin popped out. Jack moved on to the middle one.
“Lousy security,” said Ben. “Almost too easy. Maybe we should think about this for a second.”
“Could be anything,” said Stephen. “Poison gas, a shotgun pointed right at us, a midget with a hatchet—what’s the point in worrying about it? Wouldn’t he have killed us by now if he wanted to?”
“Didn’t he just try to kill us with the level-two ladder?” asked Ben. “Why would he stop now?”
“Bah,” said Stephen. “Seriously, don’t worry about it.”
“I’ll be back here,” said Ben.
The top pin was giving Jack trouble. “I think the door is sagging,” he said.
Stephen pushed up on one of the left-hand panels in the door to take the pressure off the hinge. One more hit from Jack and the pin flew up and out of the door.
“I think it’s going to fall open,” said Stephen. “Back up a little,” he said to Jack.
Gradually, Stephen let go of the door and it stayed upright. Jack came forward and used the screwdriver to lever the door from the hinge. Groaning and creaking, it fell off the hinges with a loud thump, but stayed upright. Jack and Stephen scrambled back.
“Hey—don’t worry about it, guys,” mocked Ben from several feet away.
“Go open it,” said Stephen.
“You do it,” Jack countered.
“Fine,” said Stephen. He approached the door and gingerly grabbed the middle hinge. Stuck against the floor and latch, the door wouldn’t budge. He grabbed it with both hands and had to rock it several times to pull it away from the frame. “Jesus, that thing is heavy as fuck,” he said. With one final tug the door came loose and slammed to the floor at their feet.
Jack and Stephen stared down. Still keeping his distance, Ben couldn’t see what was going on. “What’s there?” he pushed between them. Instead of looking through the doorway, his friends were studying a map painted on the door. The door had fallen towards them, so it was upside down, but so was the painting.
At the bottom of the drawing a yellow star was labeled “Go.” A Network of lines branched out from the yellow star, twisting and sometimes crossing one another. Where they came to a stop, most of the lines ended with a skull and crossbones. Some were just an oval with two eye-dots atop a wide “X” in white.
“Looks like more traps after all,” said Stephen. “Lots of them.”
Jack was counting under his breath—“Twenty-two traps. It’s going to take forever to get through here. I can’t see any pattern at all.”
“Start writing it down,” said Stephen.
“Yup,” said Jack. He pulled out his notebook and sat cross-legged next to the door.
Stephen leaned against the wall and looked at the map. “So we go straight, take our second right, the third left. Wait, is this the end?”
“Maybe,” said Ben. “But it could also be here.”
“I wonder what these traps are,” said Jack.
Ben stepped past Jack and the door and shone his light down the passage. “Pretty small in there—smaller than out here,” he said.
“So, is this level one we’re on now?” asked Stephen. “We came down from level two, so it must be back to one.”
“I haven’t seen any signs,” said Ben.
“There’s one right here,” said Jack. Ben turned around to see he was pointing at the corner of the door. “It says ‘Level 4,’” he said.
“Interesting numbering scheme,” said Stephen. “I guess it’s not based on height.”
“That means there’s also not a boss at the end of each level,” said Ben. “Unless you count the stairs and this little door.”
“Seem like pretty easy bosses,” said Stephen.
“I can just see down to the first turn-off,” Ben was looking down the hall again. “It’s like the walls absorb the light—you can hardly see any distance.”
Stephen added his light to Ben’s—“Your light is getting dim too. We should bring more batteries next time. Let’s go down there a little while Jack’s copying the map.”
“Yeah, go ahead, you can safely go down to the second right at least. Let me know if you can see anything funny down the first right,” said Jack.
“Okay,” said Stephen. “Right behind you, Ben.”
To make his way down this more narrow passage, Ben had to resort to almost crawling. It was only four feet high and he walked with one hand down on the floor.
“You weren’t kidding about the height,” said Stephen.
“Here’s the first right,” Ben paused ahead and waited for Stephen to catch up.
They both shone their lights down the passage—it went about ten feet and stopped abruptly with a black wall.
“Does this one end in a trap?” Stephen called back to Jack.
“Yeah,” Jack yelled back.
“I can’t see anything—you?” Ben asked Stephen.
“Nope. Guess we don’t want to find out, either,” Stephen replied. “We should mark it.”
Ben tried to mark the floor of the passage, but the floor, walls, and ceiling were too dark for the Sharpie to show up. “Hope we don’t have to get out of here in a hurry,” said Ben.
“What time is it, anyway?” Stephen asked.
Ben looked at his watch—“About ten till eleven. Why? You have to take a dump again?”
“Ha, ha,” said Stephen stoically. “When I do, you’ll be the first to know.”
“All these passages and traps and stuff. Would it have killed the guy to put in a bathroom?” asked Ben. “So the next right?”
“Yeah, straight then second right, and third left,” said Stephen.
“We should bring some masking tape or something,” said Ben.
“What for?” asked Stephen.
“We could make little arrows out of tape, since we can’t write on the floors here,” said Ben.
“Doesn’t Jack have duck tape?” pondered Stephen. “I think he does. Let me go find out.”
Stephen backtracked while Ben looked for the right turn. At the door, Jack was still reproducing the map in his notebook. He started putting all the side passages and the trap markers. Jack was busy erasing a line he had drawn out of scale when Stephen walked up.
“Do you think I need to do the whole thing?” Jack asked. “I think I can just draw a stub of a line for the ones that end up with a trap.”
“I think we need the whole thing,” said Stephen. “We want to make arrows out of duck tape to stick to the floor. Do you have it?”