by Simon Clark
”That and the fact this old ruin might be crawling with crack addicts.”
”You only live once.”
”That's a fact,”he said pointedly.
”Okay”She kissed his cheek. ”Here's the deal. Humor me. Put this down to my hormones going haywire because I've got an egg fertilization situation going on here.”
”You've got to take it seriously, Robyn.”
”I am… lam. Maybe I just want to get all goofy for an hour or so and blow off steam. It's been a hell of a day, you know?”
”I do know.”There was a genuine sympathy in his eyes. ”We still have to find you a motel, remember?”
”I remember. Look…”She took a deep breath. ”Here's the deal. For a dollop of lighthearted relief, let's take a look inside.”
”Robyn-”
”It'll be so cool. And if we do, I promise to go home to Mom's… at least until we can find someplace to live. Okay?”
She watched his eyes lift up to run over the building as if he saw dangers lurking there in the walls. Robyn realized that from this angle he couldn't see the crows gathering on the roof. She didn't mention them. Then he glanced across at where the sun had all but vanished behind the skyline. The shadows of trees that had run across the lot now lost their sharp edges to bleed into one another to form a dark lake that heralded the coming of nighttime.
”Promise?”he asked.
”I promise.”
”Okay,”He sighed. ”I'll go in first. But we're only in there ten minutes, then we're going back to the car.”
She smiled. ”You're the boss.”
A moment later Noel had crawled into the building. His feet were the last to disappear.
”Noel?”
When he didn't reply, Robyn Vincent crawled after him into the dark belly of the Luxor.
***
That Sunday evening as night fell, Benedict spent half an hour checking the rest of the files that were devoted to his missing ex, then re-interred them to their resting place under the guest bed in his apartment. Then he returned to the living room, where the old-style Betamax tapes guarded the coffee table: little black oblongs the shape of tombstones. There should have been seven cassettes but one of them-volume 5-was missing. So what had happened to it? Had the former owner of the Luxor, Benjamin Lockram, destroyed it? Hidden it?
Benedict sat on the edge of the sofa and stared at the videotapes. If he searched for the missing volume 5, where should he start?
Down in the yard below, the dog started to howl.
***
”Noel? Noel, where are you?”Robyn rose to her feet in total darkness.
She turned around, trying to see into the velvet black interior of the Luxor. ”Noel?”Despite the complete darkness and despite not knowing the layout of the building, or if there was any junk lying to trip her up or deep holes in the floor to swallow her, a sudden desire to run flooded her with a passionate intensity. Marveling at this reservoir of shadow she moved through, Robyn longed to plunge into it.
I want to run and run and run, she thought, excited. It would be like flying through space. Think of the exhilaration. She stepped forward, walking faster, leaning forward, ready to break into a full-blooded run… but not knowing if she headed toward a solid wall.
It doesn't matter, she thought. I feel so full of energy I could burst.
I want to run and shout… anything to release it.
She moved faster, her feet whispering against the smooth but unseen floor.
”Ouch… Robyn, careful.”
”Noel?”
”That's me. You've just rammed me in the back. Are you sure you were never on a women's soccer team?”
”I couldn't see.”
He didn't sound angry, merely concerned for her. ”It's wisest to stand still while I… damn.”
”What's wrong.”
”Flashlight's on the fritz… Wait, the battery cover's loose.” A grating sound as he twisted plastic against plastic. ”There.”
With a click, light sprang from the bulb. She blinked at its sudden brilliance.
”OK,” Noel whispered. ”Ten minutes, then we're out of here.”He shone the light along the passageway. A painted sign read: rear stage area. An arrow pointed underneath. ”This way, I guess. Now… hold my hand, Robyn. If we see anyone lurking about in here, we get out fast, okay?”
”Okay” She smiled. ”And thanks for humoring me.”
He grinned back. ”I'm not humoring you. We could both use some fun.”
Holding his hand, she set off eagerly. ”Come on, let's find some spooks.”
”Spooks aren't a problem. It's the gang of winos that concerns me.”
”We'll be fine.”She wanted to laugh out loud as excitement buzzed in her veins. ”Wow, isn't this something? I wonder how old it is? Look at the doors… they're solid oak. Even the handles are antiques.”
”The whole building's an antique. You see up there?”He shone the light up at S-shape iron pipes that curled ornately from the wall every ten paces or so. ”They even retained the old gas lamps.”
”There're electric lights too.”She flicked a switch. ”Oh.”
”They'd have cut the power when they mothballed the building.”He glanced at his watch. ”Five minutes left, Robyn, then I drive you home.”
”Come on, let's find the dance floor!”She let go of his hand to run lightly ahead into the dark throat of the passageway ”Robyn… hey, Robyn, wait for me. You won't be able to see where you're going.”
Robyn found laughter bubbling from her lips as she ran. Jeez, what is happening to me? An hour ago I was headed for the biggest depression of my life; now I feel as if I've been drinking champagne. I feel so… so… good. Elated. Upbeat.
Optimistic. Exhilarated! This must be a side effect of being pregnant.
It's gotta be those old-time hormones flooding my nervous system with feel good estrogen. Shoot, it probably won't last, so enjoy it while you can, girl.
”Keep up, Noel,”she called back.
”Hey, slow down, Robyn. You don't know what's down there.”
”Only spooks and vampires and psychopaths.”She giggled.
”It isn't funny… damn.”He slipped on the concrete floor and went down on one knee. ”Robyn. Don't go any farther.” A note of pleading ran through his voice now. Even so, he held the flashlight as high as he could while angling the light so it shone in front of her, revealing the passageway.
Bless him, he doesn't want me to hurt myself in the dark.
She ran by doors that lined the corridor. Dressing rooms. Stock rooms.
Offices. All the doors were shut. All but one, that is. As she ran by, she glanced to her right to see inside. There in the randomly deflected light beams of Noel's flashlight lurked a man. He stood just inside the doorway, staring out at her. She had the impression of someone waiting for her arrival.
Her momentum carried her on down the corridor; even when she stopped running her soles slid along the smooth concrete floor. By this time Noel had picked himself up. He ran along the corridor toward her, although she could see little but the dazzling blaze of light from his flashlight. She shielded her eyes.
And in a split-second the image came back to her. There was something wrong with the man's head. It was shockingly misshapen. The eyes had stared out at her, large and round. And what was it with his mouth?
Something had been stuck over the mouth… at least, that's what it looked like to her. Something like a red rose or some big flower. Surely those couldn't have been his lips? They were huge. Pendulous. And slick with moisture… almost syrupy.
Robyn had to look at the man again. She ran back the way she'd come as Noel raced toward her with the flashlight jigging, sending light beams exploding all over the walls. Damn, why's he shining the light in my eyes? I can hardly see.
”Noel…”Her complaint froze in her mouth after the first word. The flashlight suddenly failed. Instantly, darkness plunged in at them.
Robyn half-s
tumbled sideward until her hip collided with the wall. She heard Noel curse, then: ”It's OK. I've got it.”White light sprang from the bulb again.
She saw she stood opposite the open door.
”Robyn. This thing isn't working properly. We need to get out before-”
She held her finger to her lips to silence him. Then she pointed at the open door while mouthing, There's someone in there.
Noel nodded. Tensing, he gestured her to walk back the way they'd come.
Instead, what she did next shocked him. She ran into the room to locate the owner of the face that had seemed so uncannily unreal.
Noel followed her, angry at her recklessness. ”Robyn. Are you crazy?”
Robyn stood in the center of the room staring at the far wall. A mirror framed by dusty lightbulbs stood intact above a table that still bore the multicolored smudges of stage makeup.
The man with the bulging eyes…
Her heart beat hard.
”Robyn? Are you trying to give me palpitations?”
She shook her head, puzzled.
”Then why tell me there was some guy lurking in here?”
”There was a man here. He was standing just there in the doorway!”
”It's not funny, Robyn.”
”I wasn't joking. He was standing right where you are now.”She looked around the room that was empty apart from the mirror and the table. Here the walls were painted a bedroom pink. Artistes (some probably long dead by now) had penciled (or lipsticked) messages- telephone numbers, names, running orders of musical numbers, a line or two of a song: ”That old devil, Magic.”There were doodles, cartoons, jokes, even a prayer to the King of Rock 'n' Roll.
But no man. No man with eyes that bulged like glass balls from a monster face.
”Robyn, I'm taking you home.”
Her stomach muscles fluttered as the glowing nucleus of heat returned to the pit of her body.
”Robyn…”
”When the flashlight went out…”She nodded, realizing what had happened. ”When it went all dark he must have slipped by me. For a minute, I couldn't see a thing.”
Noel checked the flashlight. ”There's no telling how long this thing'll last. I must have cracked the battery cap when I dropped it. Look, it's-”
Robyn walked past him. ”You promised me a look at the dance floor. I'm going to see it.”Whether he followed or not she'd made up her mind to finish her exploration of the Luxor.
***
Benedict West kept his father's camping lantern in the closet. OK, it was a clunky weight of pressed steel that could half drag your shoulder out of joint, but once it was lit it had the power to light an acre of forest on the darkest winter's night. He hefted it from the closet and gave it a shake. The liquid sloshing sound from the tank told him that there was plenty of propane there. For half an hour he'd sat and thought about the missing Lockram videotape.
So where's the best place to start looking? he'd asked himself. That's obvious. The Luxor.
All those years ago he might have missed the fifth tape. OK, the chances were slender that it's still there. But it was the obvious place to start. Within five minutes he'd climbed into the car and pulled away with its nose pointed in the direction of the distant Luxor Dance Hall.
The daylight had all but gone now. He flicked on the car's lights, chasing the shadows away. He couldn't help but notice the way the shadows still clung beneath cars or in alleyways. As if they were living creatures, only briefly skipping away from the car's bright lights to watch him pass by. The mental image of the shadows being somehow demon-like took on a sinister aspect in his mind. He shivered.
But this isn't the time to wimp out, he told himself. Before sun up, I'm going to search the Luxor from top to bottom.
CHAPTER 10
Robyn Vincent knew: He'll have to follow. He won't leave me.
She was right. Noel followed as she ran back into the corridor, turned left and headed for the large twin doors at the end that were marked backstage area, no unauthorized access. One of the doors was partly open. Robyn breezed through to find herself in a cavernous room. A curtain twenty feet high by more than thirty wide separated the backstage area from the stage itself. Noel's flashlight cast disks of white against the walls and the ceiling high above, where a railed gantry ran along the back wall, then out over the stage.
Robyn pushed through a gap in the curtain. The weight of so much material required some degree of physical effort to make it through.
Then she found herself on the stage boards. A table sat stage center.
Beyond the stage stretched a seemingly limitless black void. It didn't smell how she expected. Instead of stale odors laced with hobo urine, it smelled surprisingly fresh. Cool air played on her face.
From an open window somewhere? That didn't seem likely Outside the air had been unseasonably warm. This was refreshingly cool. There were woodland scents, too, that took her back to visiting her grandparents' farm with an orchard. She caught that faint tang of bark and wet green vegetation, an aroma of moist soil.
Noel appeared, flashing the light. ”Wow, what a cavern. Look at the height of the roof. It must be a good forty feet at the apex.”
She jumped lightly down from the stage. In the center of the otherwise empty dance floor sat a club armchair. ”And a seat for one.”She turned back to Noel as he played the light on the far wall's doors that must have led to the lobby. ”Someone's been watching their own private show?
Noel grimaced. ”Hmm, no prizes for guessing what kind of show… ugh, you're not going to sit in that thing, are you?”
She flung herself into it, grinning and kicking one leg high. ”This has got to be the best seat in the house.”
”Watch it, Robyn. Someone's probably been shooting up in that.”
”It's just a chair, Noel. It's so clean you could eat your breakfast off of it.”
”I'd rather not.”
She stroked the chair's arm. Felt quite sensuous really. For the first time in days, an erotic shiver tickled her spine.
”Noel?”
”We should be leaving now, Robyn.”
Robyn closed her eyes, breathing in the cool air laden with moisture and the tang of moonlit forests. She remembered the face she'd seen just moments ago peering out from the dressing room. How the gleaming eyes had stared at her. And how big and round they were in that misshapen face. For some reason she had an impression of the man's arms, too, as he'd stood in the room. They were long… impossibly long; they tapered to points rather than terminating in a pair of hands. But maybe that was just her imagination playing tricks.
”Robyn, it's time you went home.”Noel sounded insistent. ”There's no point prolonging it.”
He'd climbed down from the stage to walk across the expanse of dance floor. He shone the light at the doors to the lobby, maybe wondering if there was a quicker exit to be had there.
”I don't want to go home,”she said. ”Besides, I left Mom a letter to say I was leaving.”
”I'm sure she wouldn't mind-”
”That I come crawling back to her? No, she wouldn't mind; she'd love it.”
”It's late, Robyn.”
”We could still find a motel.”
”Is that what you want?”
”What I really want is not to go home.”
”You're money won't last long, Robyn. After a week at a motel, what then? When we can't afford a room?”
”I've got my trust fund.”
”You said that wasn't released until you're twenty-one.”
”Mom said it could be liquidated if we served notice through an attorney." ”Yeah, but you're nineteen; you're still a minor. You need your mother's written consent.”
”Shit.”She put her head back on the backrest and gazed up into the fog of shadow. ”No problem. I'll sleep here in the chair tonight.”
”Robyn. Be realistic.”
”I'm not going back, Noel.”A rock-solid certainty hardened inside of her. ”Listen t
o me. I'm going to find somewhere to live.”
The next voice she heard didn't belong to Noel.
The stranger said: ”Why don't you stay here?”
***
Night had fallen by the time Benedict West pulled into the Luxor's parking lot. He stopped the car with its lights shining on the entrance doors of the dance hall. They brought to life the gold paint detailing and vivid red and blue plaster work that adorned the frontage in the form of a mock Egyptian temple (or was it supposed to be a tomb?). The molded heads of pharaohs gazed down at him with cold, dead eyes.
OK, he told himself. The plan's simple. Take the lamp from the trunk, crawl into the building through the hole in the door, then search the place for the missing videotape.
But it's more than that, isn't it? Every time you return here you believe down to the roots of your nerves that you're going to see Mariah skip down those steps (even though logic told him it was impossible, simply because the doors were sealed with heavy-duty boards). Now he realized that the search for the missing Betamax tape was only an excuse to enter the Luxor after five long dead years. If he searched every room, somehow he might miraculously find Mariah in there. In his mind's eye she'd be alive-vivaciously alive at that- with bright, sparkling eyes, her hair gleaming with that just-brushed shine, while her skin would glow with health. There she'd be, slim and beautiful and overjoyed to see him.
All this diverges from reality, he thought sourly But then, a close relationship with reality was never your strong point was it, Benedict, old buddy? You were an escapist teenager with a love for comic books, Star Trek, Star Wars, prog rock with a cosmic slant. The facts were that if Mariah made a pyrotechnic abracadabra appearance center stage she'd be ten years older-thirty-three, not twenty-three. The other jagged shard of reality he tended to avoid-and he knew it!-was that all those years ago Mariah had walked out on him. She'd quit the relationship, quit the apartment, quit her entire fucking life in Atlantic City to move to Chicago, a place she'd only ever known as a child.