by John Saul
There was no reply, but he thought he could hear movement of some kind inside the room. Finally he tried the door.
It was unlocked, and he pushed it open.
Yowling, Tabby shot out the crack in the door. Josh jumped back, startled. A moment later, though, he pushed the door farther open and peered into the room.
Amy’s computer was glowing. On it, there was a typed message:
I’M GOING AWAY. I JUST CANT STAND IT ANYMORE. THERE HAS TO BE SOMETHING BETTER.
Josh’s breath caught in a short gasp, and he felt his heart race as he realized how similar the words were to the final message Adam Aldrich had left.
18
Steve Conners pulled up in front of the Academy. Josh was waiting for him on the porch, his face anxious. Ten minutes ago, when the boy had called him, Conners had been about to sit down to yet another of the TV dinners with which his freezer was filled. The fear in Josh’s voice had made him abandon the little plastic tray to the trash before he’d eaten even a single bite.
“Take it easy, Josh,” he’d said, breaking through the babble coming from the other end of the line. “Just tell me what happened, or at least what you think happened.”
“It’s Amy!” Josh had repeated. “She’s gone, and there’s a note on her computer, just like the one Adam left.”
“Did you tell Hildie Kramer about it?”
“Uh-huh. But she said I shouldn’t worry, that she’d take care of everything. But Amy’s my friend! And she was really scared this afternoon!” The fear in the boy’s own voice had been enough to bring Conners back to the school. Now, as he took the steps up to the wide loggia two at a time, Josh held out a piece of paper.
Conners studied the message Josh had copied from Amy’s computer screen. It wasn’t precisely a suicide note, and yet … “All right,” he said, keeping his voice carefully under control. “Why don’t you tell me exactly what happened?”
Just as Josh had started to tell him the story of the afternoon, he was interrupted by Hildie Kramer’s appearance at the front door. “Steve? What brought you back this evening?” Then, her eyes falling on Josh, she smiled in understanding. “I see. Amy Carlson?”
Conners nodded. “Josh was worried, so he called me. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to come out and see what’s going on.”
“Well, come on in, and you might as well come, too, Josh.” She ushered them into her office and closed the door. “I think maybe Josh has overreacted a bit. Amy had a little problem this afternoon, and it appears she’s gone off by herself for a while.”
Josh stared at the housemother. A little problem? She’d been there. She’d seen Amy! “It wasn’t that way, Steve,” he objected. “Dr. Engersol was using her in an experiment, and she was really scared. She was crying, and everything!”
Conners’s eyes shifted inquiringly to Hildie Kramer, who nodded in assent. “She was scared,” the woman agreed. “And she was crying. I followed her away from the pool and found her in her room. She was pretty upset for a while, but I got her calmed down.”
“Then where is she now?” Conners asked pointedly. Hildie’s eyes took note of the piece of paper in his hand.
“I wish I knew. In fact, I’ve just been organizing people to go out and look for her. I assume that’s a copy of the note she left on her computer.” Conners nodded, almost curtly. “Well, that’s Amy,” Hildie sighed. “She tends to be a bit dramatic, as I’m sure you’ve noticed.”
“Dramatic enough to leave a note like this? It sounds like the least she’s done is run away from school, and at the worst …” His voice trailed off, but his eyes darted meaningfully toward Josh, who was listening intently to every word.
Hildie understood at once. “I don’t think we need to worry about Amy doing something—” She hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “… something irreversible. She’s never had those kinds of problems, and I think if she were going to try that kind of thing, it would have been during her first few days here, when she was a great deal unhappier than she was today. My feeling is that she’s out walking somewhere, feeling sorry for herself, and hoping to throw a very bad scare into us.”
“What if she’s not?” Conners countered, his voice harsh now. “What are we doing to find her?”
“Pretty much everything we legally can,” Hildie snapped, making no attempt to conceal her annoyance at the implication that she might not be doing her job properly. “I’ve alerted the campus security force, and three of the off-duty officers have been called in to look for her. For the moment, there isn’t much more I can do.”
“What about the police in town?” Conners demanded. “Have you talked to them?”
Hildie’s lips curved into a thin smile. “If I thought it would do any good, believe me, I would. But as far as the police are concerned, there’s no point in calling them until tomorrow. Amy simply hasn’t been missing long enough, assuming she really is missing and isn’t just hiding from us. But you can believe that if she doesn’t show up tonight, I’ll be on the phone to the police first thing in the morning.”
“But she’s gone!” Josh protested. “And after what Dr. Engersol did to her—”
Hildie fixed Josh with the severest look in her arsenal. “Josh, that’s enough. Dr. Engersol didn’t hurt her at all, as you well know. She’s upset, yes, but she did agree to take part in the experiment.”
“But she didn’t even know what it was!” Josh cried, his voice rising. “If anybody had told her, she wouldn’t have done it!”
“Josh, please. Just calm down. Nothing’s happened to Amy—”
“You don’t know that,” Josh wailed. He was about to go on when Steve Conners reached out and took his arm.
“Hold on, Josh. Let me just find out what this experiment was all about.” His eyes fixed on Hildie, who briefly told him about the Hobson’s choice to which Amy Carlson had been subjected
“She didn’t like it,” Hildie finished. “But that was the whole point of the experiment, I think. Of course I don’t always understand what Dr. Engersol is trying to accomplish, but—”
“But you went along with letting him do that to her?” Conners asked with disbelief. “You let him play on her acrophobia, and humiliate her in front of all her friends? Jesus, Hildie—she’s only ten years old!”
Hildie flushed angrily. “Pm hardly responsible for what happened, Steve,” she told him. “If you have an objection to what Dr. Engersol is doing, I suggest you take it up with him. But don’t blame me—I’m only trying to do my job the best way I know how.”
Conners was on his feet. “I will take it up with Engersol, believe me! But first, I’m going to do what I can to help find Amy Carlson. Do you have any pictures of her?”
Hildie seemed about to object, but then apparently changed her mind, opening a file folder on her desk and handing him several blurry copies of a picture of Amy that she’d photocopied only half an hour ago for the security guards.
Conners took them, standing up. “I’m going to take these down to the village and find out if anyone’s seen her.”
“I’m going, too!” Josh announced, scrambling off the sofa.
“Josh, it’s almost time for dinner—” Hildie began, but Conners didn’t let her finish.
“We’ll get something downtown,” he said. “She’s his best friend, Hildie.”
Hildie considered it for a moment, then nodded. “All right. But I want him back within a couple of hours. He’s still got his homework to do, and I won’t have him up studying all night.”
“I promise,” Steve Conners swore. “Come on, Josh. Let’s go see if we can find Amy.”
Hope flooding into him, Josh dashed out of the office. By the time Steve reached his car, the boy was already sitting in the passenger seat. “Let’s go to the bus station first,” he said as Steve slid behind the wheel. “I bet she decided to go home. But what if she didn’t have enough money? How much does a bus ticket to Los Angeles cost, anyway?” As Steve drove away from the Academy, J
osh kept talking, bubbling over with ideas.
They started at the drugstore, which doubled as the bus station. Josh was almost sure that the man behind the soda fountain, who also sold bus tickets, would recognize Amy as soon as he saw the picture. But the old man only studied the picture through his thick glasses and shook his head.
“No, can’t say as I recognize her. ’Course, the picture’s kinda blurry, ain’t it?”
“Did you see any little girls this afternoon?” Josh asked.
“Oh, yeah,” the man replied. “There was Jody Fraser, and Carleen Johnson. They come in for a soda most every day. And I think maybe the little Ashbrook girl was here, too. Judy or Janet. Something like that.”
“But she must have been here,” Josh pleaded. “She’s got red hair, and freckles, and wears glasses, and she’s just about as tall as I am.”
The old man shook his head. “Nope. Sorry.”
They moved on to the library, where they talked not only to the librarian, but to a high school boy who was working there as well. Neither of them had seen either Amy or anyone who looked like her. The librarian’s brows wrinkled with worry when she learned the little girl was a student at the Academy. “Oh, dear,” she’d clucked. “I hope it isn’t like with the other one. What was his name? Adam?”
Steve hustled Josh out of the library, and though neither of them mentioned what the librarian had said, Steve was increasingly aware of Josh’s silence as they moved on.
Unconsciously, they began walking faster, checking the bookstore and searching through the small park across from the building that housed the city hall and police department.
As the sun began to set, they went into the police station itself.
There, they heard from the desk sergeant exactly what Hildie Kramer had told them earlier: no missing persons reports unless there was some evidence of foul play, no matter how slim, or at least one night had gone by.
“But she’s only ten years old!” Steve protested.
The desk sergeant shrugged, nodding toward San Francisco. “Up in the city, they got ’em hooking at eleven and twelve. The world ain’t like it was when I was a kid.”
At last, though Josh begged him to keep up the search, Steve insisted they go into El Polio Gordo, where he ordered a Mexican dinner for each of them.
Josh said nothing, even when the food arrived. Indeed, he barely even glanced at the steaming enchilada in front of him.
“Amy’s not like Adam,” Steve Conners finally said, certain he knew what was going through Josh’s mind. “You know how Adam was—he always kept everything to himself. No one ever knew what was going on with him.” He forced a grin. “Not like Amy at all. Everyone always knows where she stands. If she’s mad, everyone knows about it for blocks!” His own chuckle died away almost before it left his lips. “Look, sport, we’re going to find her. She’s okay!”
“What if she’s not?” Josh asked.
Steve wasn’t sure how to reply. He was still trying to formulate an answer to the boy’s question when Josh spoke again.
“What if Adam’s not dead, either?”
Steve stared at Josh blankly. “Adam? What are you talking about? We were all at his funeral.”
Josh opened his mouth to speak, then realized that no matter what he said, it was going to sound crazy. Even if what Jeff had said was true, who would believe him? From the look on his teacher’s face, Josh could see that Steve Conners wouldn’t, and if Steve didn’t, then probably no one would.
Unless he could figure out some way to prove it.
And if he could, and Adam wasn’t really dead, then maybe Amy wasn’t either, no matter how her note had sounded.
Maybe they’d done something to her.
Maybe the experiment wasn’t really over with after all.
He should have been asleep an hour ago, but Josh was still wide awake, lying in bed, staring at the ceiling in the darkness. Steve Conners had brought him back to the Academy after dinner, and Josh had done his best to concentrate on his homework, but it was one of those nights when no matter how hard he tried to keep his mind on what he was reading, he kept thinking of other things.
Amy.
And Adam.
He kept telling himself there wasn’t anything he could do, but it didn’t help, and finally he’d tossed his books aside and decided to go to bed. But even that didn’t help, and now, with the moon shining brightly in through the window, he didn’t think the glow of his computer screen would show up, even if anyone happened to look up at his window. Slipping out of bed, he pulled his bathrobe on against the chill from the open window, slid his feet into his fur-lined slippers, and sat down at his desk, switching on the monitor of his computer.
He began playing one of his favorite games, an adventure in which he took the part of a wizard, making his way through dungeons and caverns, doing battle with the monsters that appeared out of the darkness with whatever tools came to hand. But as he played the game, his imagination took over, and in his mind the image on the screen became the Academy itself; the maze of caves and dark rooms transmogrified into the corridors of the mansion.
The princess in the game became Amy, and he himself was transformed into a knight in shining armor.
The game went on, but more and more Josh found himself playing the game in his own mind.
What if it was true?
What if Amy wasn’t gone at all?
What if she was still in the house somewhere?
The idea grew in Josh’s mind, until he abandoned the computer altogether, leaving the monitor still glowing with an image of a black-clad villain guarding the gate to a castle perched on a hill.
He went to the door, opened it a crack, and peered out into the corridor. It was empty. Empty, and silent.
He left his room, pulling the door closed behind him so gently that only a soft click was heard as the latch caught.
A click that sounded to Josh like a rifleshot in the silence of the house.
He froze, waiting for one of the other doors to open, already preparing a small white lie to explain his absence from his bed.
No doors opened. No one appeared to challenge him.
He stole silently down the hall to the stairway, and hesitated.
Up, or down?
Not up. If Amy was in the house, they wouldn’t put her on the third floor, where the other kids might hear her.
No, they would put her in the cellar. Maybe tied up.
Maybe even drugged.
His heart began to pound with anticipation as he crept down the broad flight of stairs to the main floor.
In the dimly lit foyer he paused once again. The chandelier’s soft glow barely held the darkness back. In Josh’s imagination, every shadowy corner held something watching him, something lurking, waiting to leap out at him.
He almost lost his nerve, but when he remembered once again the look of stark terror on Amy’s face that afternoon, and imagined the peril she might now be in, his courage flooded back to him. He scuttled across the foyer into the great dining room, barely illuminated by the spill of the weak light from the hall chandelier.
Between it and the kitchen, he knew, were the stairs leading down to the basement.
He came to the door, reached out with a trembling hand, and tried the knob.
As it turned, part of him almost wished it had been locked.
He pushed the basement door open, cringing as its hinges creaked. He stood still in the gloom of the butler’s pantry, staring down into the blackness of the cellar below.
Alight.
There had to be a light somewhere down there.
He reached into the darkness, feeling along the wall inside the basement’s door. His hand touched something that moved, scuttling off into the darkness as Josh jerked his hand away. His skin crawled as he imagined what the creature might have been, and he almost gave up the adventure and returned to the safety of his bed.
A moment later, though, he regained control of his nerves and
quickly reached once more into the blackness, sweeping his hand upward, so that his fingers would catch any switch that might be there.
It worked, and a naked light bulb flashed on at the bottom of the stairs. Josh stared at it in shocked amazement for a split second, then quickly stepped through the doorway, pulling the door shut behind him. He was standing on a landing at the top of a steep flight of rickety-looking wooden steps, a rough two-by-four banister offering the only means of steadying himself.
The white light of the naked bulb seemed to be swallowed up by the blackness that spread away from the foot of the staircase. It was all Josh could do to keep himself from turning away and fleeing from the unknown cavern beneath the mansion.
Stupid! he told himself. It’s just a basement, and there’s nothing hiding in it. Amy’s probably not even down here.
But what if she was, and he went back to bed without even looking?
He crept down the stairs, freezing every time one of the steps creaked beneath his feet, listening to the silence until he was sure nothing else had heard him, then moving onward.
At last he came to the concrete floor. Shading his eyes against the glare of the bulb that now hung directly overhead, he peered into the surrounding darkness. His eyes, adjusting to the light, surveyed the old furniture that was stored in the cellar, and the long-closed cartons that were stacked against the wall behind the stairs, cartons whose very contents had probably been forgotten years before.
For a moment he was tempted to open one of them, but then he turned away, intent on exploring the rest of the basement before he lost his nerve. He moved away from the light, ducking his head to avoid the cobwebs that hung from the huge floor joists that supported the mansion above.
The basement was a maze in its own right, partitioned off into various rooms. As he moved along, he found more light switches, and slowly the cavernous space beneath the house began to glow with light, each successive wave of shadows washed away by another of those naked bulbs that made Josh feel newly exposed every time he turned one on.
He found the laundry room, and the enormous furnace that heated the building. A monstrous boiler occupied a room of its own, with pipes leading in all directions to supply hot water to the various bathrooms of the house.