Shadows

by John Saul

  As Josh and his friends watched, the red stain spread through the image on the monitor, until surprisingly little of the brain was left its original white.

  “Now let’s mark out the areas of the brain that are solely taken up with keeping the cat alive, with keeping its heart beating, its lungs breathing, and all the rest of its organs functioning.”

  Now a blue stain began to spread through the brain, and soon there was little left of the original white color.

  “What’s left,” Engersol told them, “is what the cat has to think with. As you can see, by far the majority of the creature’s brain is occupied with the simple tasks of accepting stimuli and maintaining bodily functions. Small wonder, then, that the lower animals aren’t known for their intelligence. They simply don’t have the available brain power. But can you imagine what would happen if you eliminated some things from the cat?”

  His fingers flew over the keyboard once again, and the blue stains began to retreat.

  “What I’ve done is eliminate the autonomic nervous system. Notice how much of the brain it occupied.”

  “Yeah,” Brad Hinshaw replied. “But without it, the cat’s dead, isn’t it?”

  Engersol nodded. “It certainly would be, yes. But as you can see, we’ve eliminated a lot of other things, and the cat is still surviving.”

  “But it can’t eat,” Josh pointed out. “Didn’t you say it’s totally paralyzed now?”

  “Yes, it is,” Engersol agreed. “We could feed it, however. It’s a simple matter of an IV tube. But the point is that destroying certain parts of the brain has not killed the cat.”

  Josh frowned. “I don’t get it,” he said. “What does any of it have to do with intelligence? The cat isn’t any smarter, is it? All you did was cripple it.”

  “Perhaps that is all we did,” Engersol agreed. “But we’ve also learned something. We’ve learned how much of the brain is used for things that have nothing to do with intelligence, or, if you will, with thinking. We’ve learned that much of the brain in a cat—and in a human being, too, for that matter—is used for nothing more than maintenance of support systems. But suppose the brain didn’t need to maintain those systems? Suppose it could use its entire mass for reasoning. What do you suppose would happen?”

  Jeff Aldrich grinned. “We’d be a lot smarter,” he said.

  Engersol beamed. “Exactly. And not only that, but—”

  He was interrupted as the door to the lab was flung open and Jeanette Aldrich appeared, her face flushed, her hand quivering as she clutched a crumpled piece of paper.

  “Come here, Jeff,” Jeanette commanded, her voice harsh. “I want to talk to you. Right now!”

  Jeff, startled by the cold fury in his mother’s voice, obeyed her order before he even had a chance to think about it. A second later he was out in the hall, and his mother was glaring down at him.

  “How dare you?” she asked. “How dare you lie to me yesterday, and how dare you keep on with your tricks this morning?”

  Jeff, paling in the face of her anger, shrank back against the wall. “What?” he breathed. “What did I do?”

  “This!” Jeanette spat the word at him, then shoved the paper holding the message from “Adam” in his face. “Don’t tell me you don’t know anything about this,” she told him, her voice trembling.

  Jeff stared at it. “But I don’t, Mom,” he protested. “I don’t—”

  “Don’t lie to me, young man. You’re coming home with me right now.”

  Jeff’s eyes widened. “H-Home?” he asked. “You mean you’re taking me out of school?”

  “That’s exactly what I mean,” Jeanette replied. “Now come along!”

  She took Jeff’s arm and tried to lead him toward the building’s front door, but Jeff jerked free. When she turned to look at him, he was glaring at her with a fury just as cold as her own.

  “No,” he said, his voice low. “I won’t go. And you can’t make me. If you do, I’ll do the same thing Adam did. I swear I will!”

  Jeanette stared at her son, the words slashing into her consciousness like knives. “N-No,” she stammered, stag gering back half a step. “Don’t say that, Jeff. Don’t even kid about it.”

  “I’m not kidding, Mom,” Jeff told her, his voice flat and emotionless now. “I’m just telling you what I’ll do. If you make me leave the Academy, I’ll do what Adam did. And then you won’t have any kids left at all.”

  After a moment that seemed to go on for an eternity, a faint sound erupted from Jeanette’s throat. A sound that was part fear and part utter pain.

  Then she turned and fled from the building.

  20

  “Is she really going to take you out of school?” Josh asked. The seminar was over, and Josh was trying to hurry Jeff Aldrich by cutting across the lawn toward one of the new buildings that flanked the mansion. They only had another two minutes before Steve Conners’s English class was to begin, but Jeff refused to be rushed, ambling along as if he had all the time in the world.

  “Nah,” Jeff replied. “Shell let me do anything I want. Parents are easy that way—all you have to do is know how to push their buttons. And if I threaten to kill myself, they’ll let me do anything I want. Especially after what happened to Adam.”

  Josh shot the other boy a sidelong glance. “I thought you didn’t think Adam was dead,” he said.

  The same mysterious expression that had appeared on Jeff’s face on the day of Adam’s funeral now twisted his mouth into a scornful grin. “Who do you think’s sending those notes to my mom’s computer?”

  Josh stopped walking and turned to stare at the older boy. “Come on,” he said. “Everybody knows—”

  Jeff’s voice turned cold. “Nobody knows anything,” he said. “All anybody thinks they know is that Adam died. And that’s bullshit. Adam didn’t want to die. He just wanted to get out of this dumb place. The only thing he liked about it was Dr. Engersol’s class, and his computer.”

  “But—But where’d he go?” Josh asked.

  Jeff smiled sardonically. “You’re supposed to be smart. Figure it out. It’s not really very hard. At least it shouldn’t be for you.” Then, laughing, he dashed ahead, and before Josh could catch up to him, disappeared into the building.

  The bell rang just as Josh was approaching the door to Steve Conners’s classroom. He ducked inside, hoping the teacher wouldn’t notice that he hadn’t quite made it on time. But to his surprise, Conners wasn’t there at all. The rest of the class sat at their desks, already buzzing among themselves, speculating on what might have happened to the teacher. As Josh scurried up the aisle to his own desk, next to Amy’s empty one, Jeff Aldrich snickered softly.

  “Boy, are you lucky,” he said as Josh passed him.

  Josh said nothing, sliding into his seat and doing his best to look as though he’d been there for at least a couple of minutes as he heard the door open. But it wasn’t Steve Conners who entered. Instead it was Carolyn Hodges, one of the university graduate students, who worked part-time assisting Hildie Kramer. The girl walked to the front of the classroom and turned to face the students, whose buzzing had died away as they realized that something unusual was happening.

  Carolyn, who hadn’t yet gotten over feeling intimidated by the Academy’s children—most of whom already seemed to know everything it had taken her nearly twenty-two years to learn—smiled nervously at the group before her. “Mr. Conners isn’t here this morning,” she announced. “We’ve been trying to find someone else to teach his classes, but—”

  “Where is he?” someone asked from the back of the room. “Is he sick?”

  Carolyn hesitated, then shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know. All I know is that he isn’t here, and that Hildie Kramer has decided we should use the hour as study time.”

  “Well, if he isn’t sick, what happened to him?” someone else asked.

  “We don’t know that anything happened to him,” Carolyn replied. “But I’m sure if you have any questi
ons, Hildie can answer them for you at lunchtime.”

  Though Josh sat quietly at his desk, his mind was racing. Had Steve gone out looking for Amy this morning? And even if he had, why hadn’t he come to school? Unless he’d found Amy, and something had happened to her. Josh was wondering how he could find out where Steve was, when Jeff Aldrich’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

  “Is it okay if I go study in the library?” Jeff asked. “I have a project for Dr. Engersol’s seminar that I need to do research on.”

  Josh turned to look at Jeff, whose face reflected all the innocence the boy was capable of summoning up. But what project was he talking about? An instant later Josh was sure he understood. Jeff was just trying to get out of the classroom.

  “I—I suppose that would be all right,” Carolyn Hodges said. “As long as you’re studying, I—”

  Josh’s hand shot up. “May I go with Jeff?” he asked. “I’m working on the same project.”

  Carolyn’s expression reflected her sudden doubt. Her eyes shifted to Jeff. To Josh’s relief, the other boy instantly backed him up.

  “It’s a project on the biology of intelligence,” Jeff explained, improvising as he went along. “We have to do some research on the relationship between hormones and intelligence. Dr. Engersol says—” He was prepared to go on, but Carolyn Hodges held up her hands in protest.

  “All right, both of you, and anyone else who wants to, can go to the library. But you’re on your honor, all right?”

  Instantly, the class mumbled their agreement, then gathered up their things and headed out the door. A moment later they tumbled out of the building, most of them actually setting off toward the large library a hundred yards away, on the university campus. Josh MacCallum, though, fell in next to Jeff Aldrich.

  “Do you know where Steve lives?” he asked.

  Jeff’s brows rose. “You mean you don’t want to go to the library and work on our project?”

  Josh flushed slightly. “Thanks for not telling her,” he said. Then: “Do you really have a project you have to work on?”

  Jeff laughed out loud. “Shit, no! I just didn’t want to sit there for an hour. So how come you want to know where Conners lives?”

  Josh’s tongue ran nervously over his lower lip. “I—I just want to find out what’s going on, that’s all. I mean, if they don’t even know where he is, what’s going on?”

  “So you want to go see?”

  Josh nodded. A moment later the two boys set out, heading across the lawn toward the university in case anyone was watching, but then cutting away from the campus as soon as they were out of sight of the mansion.

  Fifteen minutes later they stood on the sidewalk in front of the house on Solano Street, behind which was the little guest house Steve Conners had rented. Josh looked around, searching for the teacher’s Honda.

  There was no sign of it.

  “Want to go look in the windows?” Jeff suggested, already starting down the driveway. Josh hesitated, his eyes going to one of the front windows of the house.

  An elderly woman was peering out. When Josh realized she was staring at them, he waved, then ran up and knocked at her door. A few seconds later the front door opened and the old woman gazed out at Josh.

  “Shouldn’t you boys be in school?” she asked, her voice projecting disapproval.

  “We’re looking for Mr. Conners,” Josh explained. “He’s one of our teachers, and he didn’t come to school today.”

  The woman’s brows rose a notch. “You’re from that school for smart kids, are you?”

  “Y-Yes, ma’am,” Josh stammered, glancing toward Jeff, who was still standing in the driveway, obviously enjoying his discomfort.

  “And they just let you run around town all day?” the old woman went on.

  Josh squirmed with embarrassment. “We just came looking for Mr. Conners,” he repeated. “We just wanted to see if he’s here, that’s all.”

  “Well, he’s not,” the old woman said. “I heard his car leave this morning, just before dawn, just like always. Don’t know why he can’t just run around the block if he’s a mind to, but I suppose there’s no accounting for young people nowadays. Anyway, he hasn’t been back since.”

  “Run around the block?” Josh asked. “Why would he do that?”

  The old woman’s eyes narrowed and her voice rose. “He doesn’t! Aren’t you listening to me, young man? I said that’s what he ought to do! But instead he drives up to the point, then runs two miles up the road and two miles back. Doesn’t that beat all?”

  “The point?” Josh asked, “mere—?”

  “I know where it is,” Jeff called from the driveway. “Come on!”

  Josh hesitated, but the irritation in the old woman’s voice, combined with the fact that Jeff was already headed down Solano Street toward the beach, made up his mind for him. “Thanks,” he said, then jumped down the three steps that led to the porch and darted across the lawn.

  “Be careful of my grass, young man,” the old woman called after him, but it was too late. As she closed the door, Josh and Jeff were already halfway down the block.

  Twenty minutes later they were at the viewpoint, staring at the broken concrete pilings, and the rusted chain that dangled uselessly down the face of the cliff.

  “Maybe nothing happened at all,” Josh said softly, staring at the spot where Steve Conners’s Honda had plunged over the cliff only hours earlier. “Maybe it’s been that way for a long time.”

  “Sure,” Jeff replied sarcastically. “That’s why the breaks in the cement look like they just happened. Can’t you see a car went off here?” He went to the edge and peered down. “Oh, Jeez, Josh,” he said, his voice hollow. “Come here.”

  Hesitantly, Josh approached the precipice and peered down at the water heaving against the base of the point. He wasn’t sure what Jeff was talking about, but then the wave receded and he saw it.

  A car, lying on its back with one of its doors open, was visible for just a second. Then another wave came in, shifting the car slightly and covering it once more with water.

  “I-Is it Steve’s?” Josh stammered.

  “I’m not sure,” Jeff said, his voice tinged with excitement at his own discovery. “But one of the doors is open, so maybe someone got out.”

  “What shall we do?” Josh asked. “Shouldn’t we go get the police?”

  Jeff shook his head. “We better look at the beach first. What if someone’s still alive? They could drown while we’re going to find someone!” He pointed north, where Josh could see the stairs leading down to the cove at which they’d had the picnic the day he’d first arrived at the Academy. “You go down there, and I’ll find a way down to the beach on the other side. If you find anything, come and get me!”

  Jeff took off, running back down the looped road the way they’d come, then trotting along the edge of the highway to the south, looking for a path that might lead him down to the beach below.

  Josh himself moved more slowly, walking along the pavement’s edge, stopping every few yards to gaze down at the rocks that formed the south end of the cove, and the beach that curved north and west, ending at the next point.

  He was halfway to the stairs that led down to the beach itself when something floating in the water caught his eye.

  At first he thought it was just some trash drifting in the waves and about to be washed up onto the beach. Then, as the object was lifted by a cresting wave and tossed up onto the sand, Josh realized that it wasn’t junk at all. As the next wave washed it back down into the roiling water, he yelled for Jeff, then ran to the top of the long switchback flight of stairs. Without even thinking of going back for Jeff, he started down the steps, taking them two at a time, his breath coming in quick gasps from the effort.

  Somehow he made it to the bottom without tripping and raced down the beach to the spot where he’d last seen the object. But it seemed to have vanished, as if the tide had swallowed it up.

  Stripping off his shoes a
nd socks and throwing them as far up the beach as he could, Josh waded into the water.

  He’d seen it! He knew he had! But where was it?

  He moved a few feet farther down the beach, and then felt something bump against his bare foot. Recoiling, his first instinct was to run back out of the water, but then he took a deep breath, stooped down and groped in the sandy water.

  His fingers closed on the object.

  A shoe, almost the same size as his own.

  A shoe just like the ones most of the kids at the Academy wore, and that he’d been hoping his mother might be able to get him for Christmas.

  Washing the sand from it, he examined it carefully.

  Even though it was soggy, the tread was unworn and the shoelaces still looked almost new.

  Then he noticed something funny about the shoe.

  Across the top—and the sole, too, when he turned it over—were twin crescents of gashes, puncturing right through the leather of the upper part of the shoe and gouging deeply into the hard rubber of the soles.

  Marks, like tooth marks.

  As if something had bitten the shoe—bitten it really hard.

  His heart suddenly racing, Josh gazed back into the sea once more.

  And this time he saw the object again.

  A wave was building, and as it towered up in preparation to break, the sun shone full upon the thing he’d seen from high up on the highway.

  It was a corpse.

  Or at least it was what was left of a corpse, for even from where he stood at the edge of the water, Josh could see what had happened.

  The wave broke and the water surged forward, tumbling the broken remains of the little girl up the beach, depositing them at Josh’s feet as if they were some sort of grotesque sacrifice being offered up to the boy by the sea in penance for whatever mysterious sins it might have committed.

  Josh gazed silently at the mutilated body. One of its arms was completely missing; great chunks were torn out of its torso. But despite the damage it had absorbed, Josh was still sure he knew who it was.