Authors: Anastasia Hopcus
Trent cocked his head, looking me up and down. “If I were you, I would be careful not to bet on the wrong Redford. Some of us are much more likely to break the rules—no matter the consequences.” He smiled, but it was empty; Trent was baring his teeth. “Think about my invitation. It’s not a bad way to start off the year—on the arm of the most eligible bachelor in school … See you tomorrow, Goldilocks.” Trent winked and, finally releasing my captive hand, walked away.
My hand was on fire, and the spot where his ring had made contact with my skin was bright red and splotchy. My mind whirled, and I felt as if I might faint. I walked unsteadily to the edge of the building and rounded the corner so I was sure Trent couldn’t see me before I allowed myself to crumple to the ground.
How did Trent happen to say
exactly
what I’d thought?
When I got back to the dorm, I changed out of my uniform and washed my face. I immediately felt more like myself, not as shaky and freaked out.
Whatever was up here, one thing was certain. I needed to study. This was not a school I’d be able to coast in, and if I flunked out I’d never see Zach again. But no more than an hour later, I already needed a study break.
There are probably Ivy League colleges with a less rigorous curriculum
. As I flipped through a magazine, my mind wandered back to my encounter with Trent. It was another very strange incident to add to all the other peculiar things that I had seen since I got to Shadow Hills.
I thought again of the archives room that I’d overheard Zach and Corinne discussing in the library.
Grabbing the guidebook off my desk, I thumbed through it carefully, looking for any mention of an archives room. Nothing. I went over to my dresser and pulled the welcome packet off the top. It wasn’t on any of the maps either. What kind of school had a secret locked archives room?
They must have something of great value in it
. And I was willing to bet it wasn’t a first edition
Moby-Dick
.
The more I thought about it, the more convinced I was that
at least some of the answers I was looking for must lie in that archives room. It was like the gold key in my dream had been pointing me to it. And tonight would be the perfect time to try to find it, while everyone was at the movie and the library was closed. Surely that was where the room was located, and luckily I knew where I could get a key to the library: Graham.
I seriously doubted that he would carry that gigantic key ring with him to the movies.
I can sneak into his dorm room and try to find it after he leaves
.
I realized that it was an insane plan, but I couldn’t sit around and do nothing.
Graham had written his name and room number down when he had first given the welcome packet to me—Garrettson Hall, Room 216.
Good, that shouldn’t be hard to find
. My room was 116, so if the dorms were the same, as they looked on the outside, Graham’s room would be at the end of the hall on the left, like mine, only a floor higher.
A knock at my door pulled me out of my reverie.
“Yeah!” I called, sticking the map back in the folder and tossing it aside.
Adriana stuck her head in.
“You ready to go to the SAC?”
“I’m actually not feeling so good.” I rubbed my stomach in a show of pain. “I think I’m going to stay here.”
“What’s wrong?” Adriana’s expression was concerned. “Do you need me to take you to the infirmary?”
“No.” I shook my head. “I’ll be okay. I just have a stomachache.”
“Okay. Text me if you need anything,” Adriana told me before leaving.
I waited a few minutes, then followed her. The stone pathways outside were deserted. Everyone was either at the movies or studying in their rooms. There were several lights on in Garrettson, Graham’s dorm, probably boarders trying to memorize their textbooks to keep up with the townies. I pushed open the front door and stuck my head in.
It was clear. I took a soft step into the lobby, one of my shoes squeaking against the tile floor.
Shit
. I slid off my Vans and dropped them into my oversize purse. Silently, I made my way along the hall, not even daring to breathe until I got to the stairs. I ran up them as noiselessly as I could, pausing for a moment outside Graham’s door.
If he finds out I went into his room and stole his keys, I could lose the first friend I made at Devenish
. Was I willing to take that risk?
I thought of Trent’s fiery grip on my hand. My weird dreams. My inexplicable connection to Zach.
I have to know
. I’d just make sure Graham never found out. I held my breath and turned the knob.
The door swung open. I was in. My eyes canvassed the room.
Where would Graham keep his keys?
My first two attempts at his desk and bedside table both turned up nothing. My gaze fell on the dresser. I pulled open the top drawer, and my breath caught at the loud creak it made.
Hopefully the guys on this floor are at the movie
.
There it was, a huge ring with about thirty keys on it. I
shoved it into my purse and shut the drawer, pulling Graham’s door closed gently. Then I booked to the library. I had to get to the library, find the archives room, get into it, look around, and return to Garrettson to replace Graham’s keys—all before the film fest ended.
My hand shook as I tried the eighth key in the library door’s lock. I hadn’t counted on their being labeled in some code that only Graham understood. It seemed like I had been trying different keys for at least ten minutes, and I wasn’t even halfway through them. I glanced around, making sure nobody happened to be strolling along the path next to me. Finally, the eleventh key slid effortlessly into the lock. I turned it and heard a satisfying click.
I was thankful for the emergency lights they left on at night.
A lower level seems like a good place for a secret room
. I checked behind the front desk. No doors leading down to a cellar. I’d have to check the perimeter. I jogged along the wood-paneled wall, looking for some kind of opening or door. I made it all the way around. Nothing. The longer I was in here, the more likely it was that I would get caught.
I walked around the room again, more slowly this time. Maybe there was some kind of lever system, like you pulled on a certain book and it revealed a hidden entrance behind a panel somewhere. There was no way I could try every book in the
library, though—I would be here forever. If I were going to be clever and hide a key or lever, where would I put it?
I was about to just start pulling on any book with the word “secret” in the title when a loud crash reverberated through the library. Instantly, I broke out in a cold sweat and my chest tightened. The sound had come from across the library.
I held my breath in apprehension as I crept over to the back wall. The noise had come from directly across the room, but I felt safer sticking to the shadows, in case there was someone else in here.
The bookcases lorded over me, tall and forbidding, as I continued down the opposite wall. In front of the darkest section of shelves, lying on the floor as if they had fallen there, was a pile of books. Either somebody was in here hiding, or the books had moved of their own accord. Neither option was comforting. I glanced up at the scientific journal section in front of me.
There were only six bookcases in the whole library that were facing out like this, perpendicular to all the others, and for some reason this one seemed stranger than the rest. I inspected the bookcase. It stuck out farther from the wall, like its shelves were deeper. That in itself was weird, and add to it the subject matter … I had never seen this kind of book in any school library before.
What high schooler in their right mind checks out scientific journals?
There was a large empty space on one of the higher shelves. I picked the books up and placed them there. Every one of them hung an inch off the shelf. It was as if something wouldn’t let them go in all the way. I pulled the books back out and set them on the floor.
My bracelet knocked against the shelf as I felt along the back of the bookcase. I held my breath. Maybe this was some kind of trap, and I was going to pull back a bleeding stump. But nothing bit off my hand; all I felt was wood. Then my fingers hit a cold circle of metal. It was a very large lock. I looked at Graham’s key ring. There was no way that
any
of these would fit it.
Shit!
I ran back to the front counter in a half crouch just in case there was someone around. Zach had said they had to get the key from the librarian, which meant she must have one. Possibly the only one. I hoped she kept it here instead of taking it home with her. I slid open the top drawer of the desk. Paper clips, rubber bands, and loose Tic Tacs. No keys. I tried the side drawer.
Aha
. A large metal lockbox was hidden under some file folders. I pulled it out and set it on the counter to study it. It needed a pass code like my dad’s law briefcase, the kind you typed in on a keypad.
What would a fifty-year-old librarian have as her code? At least it was in letters. If I’d had to break a numerical code, I would be totally screwed. I thought back to the woman’s endless speech to Adriana. I typed in “Jane Austen.” Nope. I tried “Pride and Prejudice.” Uh-uh.
I’ve got it!
“Darcy.”
Seriously? It’s not “Darcy”?
I had to stick with my theme or I would be here until morning. I thought for a moment, then tried “MrDarcy.” With a little mechanical pop, the lock released.
Oh, thank God for predictable people
.
There, nestled in the black velvet lining of the box, was an ornate gold skeleton key. Exactly like the one from my dream.
The key was weighty and large, almost as long as my palm. My hand shook as I carried it back to the lock I had discovered. I turned it to the left and heard a soft click before the whole bookcase moved closer to me. My heart was beating in my throat; I could hardly draw a breath. I grasped the right edge of the bookcase and pulled. It opened slowly, and only with great effort.
This was the archives room. It was real. I stepped into the small space but left the bookcase/door standing open. Several shelves of books lined the left wall, and to the right were three tall file cabinets. The back wall held two locked glass cases filled with old-fashioned books, and in the middle of the room stood a sturdy wood desk.
The drawers of the file cabinets were labeled with letters, starting with
A–B
and ending with
W–Z
. I tried each drawer on the three towers; all of them were locked. I continued to the glass case on the left. Some of the books in it looked old and worn, but some were newer and marked by subject. Two in particular caught my eye:
Characteristics and Evolution of the Epidemic
and
Shadow Hills: An In-Depth History
.
I tried to slide the glass door open, but the lock held firm. I let out a sigh. I’d gotten in, but still I couldn’t get any actual information.
Or maybe I could
. The shelves on the left side of the room were accessible. However, the books there seemed strangely ordinary. They were all fairly new, and nothing about them suggested that they were particular to the town of Shadow Hills.
I grabbed an old receipt and a pen out of my purse so I could
write down some of the titles. Maybe there was a theme here, something that would be apparent if I looked up the books. I scribbled down several of the most interesting ones:
The Body Electric: Electromagnetism and the Foundation of Life; Distant Mental Influence; Quantum Speed Reading
.
On the top shelf were a number of spiral-bound books. I took one down. The cover read
Identification of a Novel Mutation Associated with Gravell’s Dementia
. I had no clue what that meant, but I glanced through it anyway. I couldn’t understand enough of the terminology to even guess at what they were discussing.
As I continued to browse through the books one caught my eye—Derbyshire, England. According to the hospital plaque, that was where the first settlers of Shadow Hills were from. I turned to the title page:
Study of the CCR5 Gene Mutation Delta 32 of Individuals in Eyam, Derbyshire, England
.
Thumbing through the pages, there were several mentions of bacterium and organisms, and I saw the phrase “DNA inheritance” often. As I scanned the book I noticed several mentions of “the delta 32 mutation” and “Shadow Hills genotype,” but there was no explanation of what they were. Halfway through the book was a chart that looked fairly readable, titled “Eyam.”
The next page was identical, but its heading read “Shadow Hills.” Toward the bottom of the chart, the name “Redford” jumped out at me. Zach’s family. A few lines above that, it said “Kincaid.” Wasn’t that Brody’s name?
I turned the page and found what looked like a genealogy chart, with lines going from one box to another. But the way the
boxes were divided up with letters in them reminded me of the Punnett squares from biology. At the bottom of the page a legend gave the meaning of the different letters: the big
S
stood for the “Shadow Hills Mutation.”
I closed the book and set it back on the shelf. I was beginning to understand, I thought, or, at least, have a glimmer of understanding. The people of Shadow Hills carried some kind of gene mutation that they seemed to have inherited from their ancestors in Eyam, England. From what Graham had told me, the people who didn’t die from the epidemic two hundred years ago were the settlers from Derbyshire. So the mutation probably had to do with their surviving the epidemic.
There’d be plenty of time to dwell on this later. I needed to finish before the movies let out, or I’d be in big trouble.
Turning, I moved back over to the glass cases that held about twenty identical leather books. The first was labeled
THE COUNCIL:
1800–1810, and the last one on the bottom shelf read
THE COUNCIL:
2000–2010.
The books covered about two hundred years, starting not long after the epidemic. These I needed to see
. The bookcase had a separate lock on each of the shelves’ sliding-glass doors. I started at the top, where the 1800s books were—it wouldn’t budge. I tried the next one down, then the next, and so on, until finally I felt one give.
It was unlocked
.