by W. J. May
There was nothing.
“Hello?” Silence. The first stirrings of panic slipped down her spine. Taking a deep breath, she struggled to stay calm, to understand. There was no easing of the unrelenting darkness in any direction. Somehow, she’d ended up in a pitch black, empty hole.
Her bedroom had disappeared. And this space had appeared. Her stomach threatened to spill its contents, bile climbing her throat. Her imagination couldn’t help jumping from one wild scenario to the next, each worse than the one before. From thinking she’d fallen through the basement, to the idea of being caught between the floors – like, could you go in-between? She even considered that she might have tripped and fallen into a hidden store room.
She wasn’t even going to consider that she might have been abducted by aliens.
This couldn’t be happening.
Yet it had.
She swallowed. Then swallowed again. Closing her eyes for a moment, she struggled to remember what she’d done. The last thing she remembered was throwing that damned picture on the floor and jumping on it. On it? On the opening? Therefore on the doorway. And through it?
Her eyelids popped open.
Could she have jumped through a picture of a door as if it were a real exit? She shook her head as her mind stretched and reached the impossible conclusion.
And if she had...where was she now? Where did that strange passageway lead?
Wherever the hell she was, she’d damned well better find a way out. Once she realized her eyes couldn’t adjust to the all-encompassing darkness, she reached out, her arms wide, hoping to find something solid. Her fingers twitched as her mind filled with thoughts of the many unpleasant things she could encounter. Spiders being the number one yucky critter in her world.
Nothing. She’d entered a space where she alone existed. Panic brought the acid in her stomach bubbling back up. This had to be a dream. A nightmare. She brightened. Maybe when she jumped on the sketchbook, she’d fallen and hit her head. Maybe she had a concussion? That had to be it. Eagerly she checked her head for blood, at minimum some tenderness.
Her skull was as thick-headed as she was. Storey groaned. “Please, someone,” she cried out. “Is anyone out there?”
Eerie echoes went on forever.
She shuddered, the blackness threatening to suffocate her. She bent over and breathed once, twice, three times until the rapids in her stomach calmed down. As she stared down where her feet should be, it hit her. The floor was solid. Stomping to prove it, she crouched down to touch the surface. Hard, cold wood or maybe even tile supported her. It gave her hope.
Someone had built it. That meant people. Somewhere.
She had to have fallen into a storage space or something, a closet even. Okay, that would mean one huge-ass closet, but it was possible. She took one deliberate step. She stretched her arms forward. Still nothing. Bending down, she touched the ground and crabbed forward, her hands making sure there was something for her to stand on before taking the next step.
She continued for another ten steps. And stood up.
Was the darkness less cloying? She sniffed the air. Still bad, musty. She put out her hands again – still nothing. Fisting her hands on her hips, she stood and contemplated the situation. What a piss off. Where the hell was she? And as much as she’d like to understand how she’d gotten here, the priority was getting out.
And fast.
***
“What is she doing?” Eric tilted his head to study Storey’s sideways crab imitation on the monitor in front of him, a frown crinkling his forehead. He’d rushed into the lab at Paxton’s panicked call, only to come to a halt in front of the wall sized screen that showed Storey inside a crossing.
“I have no idea,” Paxton retorted. “She wouldn’t be doing even that, if you’d kept an eye on her.”
“Hey,” Eric protested. “That’s not fair. You didn’t even think she could do something like this. How was I to know?”
An irritated “Harrumph,” from beside him was his only answer.
“So now what?”
“We watch.”
Shooting a sideways glance at Paxton, Eric struggled not to scrunch up his face in disgust. “Uhm, isn’t that a little mean?”
Paxton beetled his brows. “Mean? How are we going to know what she can do if we don’t watch her and find out?”
“I don’t think she has any idea of what she can do. Look at her. She’s afraid she’s going to run out of floor and fall off.”
“And she might. If she’d created that.”
The younger man gave him an incredulous look. “You can’t possibly think she did this on purpose?”
“Right.” Paxton shook his head in his far too familiar I taught you better than that way.
“Honest. I’ve spent days watching her. She’s a good artist, yes, but she creates mindlessly”
“Then how did she create a portal?”
Eric paused and chose his next words carefully. “I think it’s the stylus.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I think it’s bonding with her.”
Complete shock rendered the old man silent. “Oh my. How is that possible? Do you know for sure that she has it? You’ve actually seen it in her hand?” He spun around to study Storey’s movements in the tunnel. “It can’t become soulbound to her. She’s not one of us.”
“I think I saw it. She wouldn’t let me take a close look. This,” Eric waved at the monitor, “proves it. It’s the only way she could open a portal.”
The older man shuddered. “This is not good.”
“I’m assuming the stylus is trying to come home?”
At his mentor’s gasping cough, Eric turned to stare at the red splotches appearing on Paxton’s face. “Are you okay?”
“No. No, I’m not,” he snapped. “This is terrible. Something has to be done. She can’t come here. She’s one of them.” He almost spat the last word.
And? Eric didn’t see that they had a choice. The stylus had latched onto Storey and appeared to be coming home whether Paxton approved or not. In fact, according to the monitor, the two of them had almost made it.
Eric watched as Storey bent once more to the floor and crabbed her way forward. “We have to do something. This is painful to watch.”
The older man pivoted. “This can’t happen. That the stylus was lost in the first place is unacceptable. That one of those otherworlders should have picked it up is worse...that the stylus is accepting...even strengthening the bond is...” Paxton stopped talking, overcome by emotion. He pressed his trembling fingers against his temples.
“It might change things if we assist her, you know.” Eric gestured at Storey. “Chances are, she’d appreciate the help.”
A calculating look brightened Paxton’s slate blue eyes. He rubbed his hands together. “Yes. Yes, that might work. She already knows you. You could cross over and let her out on her side of the veil.”
Eric considered the logistics. “She hasn’t exactly welcomed me so far. A rescue could do a lot to help that.”
Paxton nodded. “She can’t be allowed to find out the power of the stylus. Get it away from her.”
“It might already be too late. If she’s soulbound already, we can’t separate them. You know that,” he countered.
The old man wrung his hands as he considered the problem. “Certainly we can. We have to. The stylus is too powerful. Too dangerous. But first things first. Get her out of the crossing and retrieve the stylus.”
Eric shook his head. “I’m not going to participate in anything that will cause her death.”
Paxton straightened to his full height and stared down his long nose at Eric. “Then go. The longer the two are together, the harder it will be to separate them. Get the stylus now and she lives. Don’t get it and she dies. Either way that stylus has to come home.”
With that order, Eric adjusted his soulkey, tapped into his codex and shifted dimensions.
Storey was beyond pissed a
nd had jumped completely into terror. Something had gone majorly wrong in her world. And she didn’t know how to reverse it. Initially anger had held the fear in check, but now it clogged her throat and clouded her vision. She’d gone from being warm and cozy on top of her bed to lost in this dark hole, a chill settling into her bones. The thought of being stuck in this blackness forever kept shudders creeping up and down her spine. Please, let this not be the end of her world.
The world had to be out there somewhere. No direction appeared to be a better bet than any other. She couldn’t just stand still forever.
“Hello? Is someone there?”
Storey spun around, excited relief blasting through her. “Help! Hello? Can someone hear me?”
“Hang on. I’m coming.”
Oh thank God. She was saved! Storey couldn’t believe it. Someone must have heard her screams. She glanced down at her jeans, relieved that she wasn’t in her usual sleepwear – a camisole and matching shorts. To think she’d almost changed for bed. Then again, she might not have been found at all.
The darkness in front of her lightened. Storey pivoted to see a slice of sunlight opening up behind her. The strip widened, highlighting the old worn plank floor at her feet. Weird. She dashed to the doorway, open enough just enough for her to slip through, and blinked in the bright light. The sun crested the familiar shape of her mountain top. It was morning? How long had she been in there?
She turned to look at her rescuer.
Eric.
His grin flashed, that killer look of pure bad boy. Like he’d just come off a hot night. She gulped. The goose bumps on her arms had to be from the cool mountain air.
“Hey, Storey. What the hell were you doing in there?”
“In where?”
Storey spun around and studied the door she’d just exited. It didn’t look like the one in her picture. In fact, it looked like an ordinary plain old door. Wood, some kind of cut molding running around the edge and a standard issue round door knob. The door attached to a large front wall of some kind. No sign identified the purpose or location. Stripped of paint and worn, the whole thing had an abandoned look to it.
“Where am I?” Puzzled, she backed up to get a wider view of the building. “What is this place?”
“It’s an abandoned mine entrance.”
She spun around. “It’s what?”
Eric pointed out the landmarks. “This is the trailer entrance to the old Bankhead mine. Remember, it closed down a few years back?”
“How do you know? I thought you were new?” she murmured with a sidelong glance. Way off topic, but the fact that she could actually keep a conversation going right now was a freakin’ miracle. So what if it was a mine entrance? What she really wanted to know was how the hell she’d managed to get inside.
“If you didn’t know what the place was, how did you get inside?”
Trying for an air of nonchalance she didn’t feel, Storey went for simplicity. “I fell down a hole, ended up in the mine.”
A long slow whistle escaped his lips, his eyes widened in shock. “Wow. Good thing I found you when I did. You could have been stuck in there forever.”
Oh, God. He was right. A shudder worked up her legs, reducing them to the consistency of wet noodles. But as much as she wanted to bolt from the place, she knew she had to have answers. Otherwise, what would stop her from ending up there again? She needed to go back in – with the door open for light.
“Come on, let’s go home.” Eric faced the wide, gravel road overgrown by bushes and weeds.
Storey glanced from the door to the road then back to the door. She had to know. “Just a second.”
A few quick steps and she had her hand on the doorknob before she could talk herself out of it. It wouldn’t open. She frowned and spun back to Eric. “Did you lock it again?”
“Lock what?” He walked back and tested the door himself. It wouldn’t open. “No. I didn’t. At least, I don’t think so.”
“Freaky,” she murmured. The door was old and rusty. Eric stood off to one side, hands on his hips, glaring at her. Had he locked it to stop her from going back inside? Then why not just say so? Or maybe he’d locked it accidentally.
“Are you coming?”
“Yeah,” she said with one long last look at the door.
She’d explore later. When Eric wasn’t around. And when she had a flashlight.
Something beyond weird was going on and she needed to know what it was.
* * *
Chapter 4
School slogged by. Storey was desperate to get home, yet every time she checked her watch, it appeared to have stopped, forcing her to check the clock on the back wall.
“Yes, Storey, it’s at least two minutes since you last checked the time. What’s the matter? Do you have a hot date or something?”
Snickers raced around the classroom, gaining momentum until they became an outright laugh.
“She’s probably heading to the coven for her initiation.” That comment came from somewhere off to the left. Storey didn’t bother looking for the culprit. Could be any one of a dozen people hitting at her because of her mother.
Laughter swelled.
Stone-faced, she slouched lower in her seat. To hell with them.
“So if we have everyone’s attention again,” Mr. Morrison continued with a smirk, “there’s going to be a quiz on chapters eleven and twelve tomorrow. Study and do well. Don’t study, don’t care and maybe fail. Everyone is dismissed.” He waved good-bye before wiping off the blackboard.
Letting the class empty ahead of her, Storey took her time to collect her stuff. The last thing she wanted was to attract any more attention.
“Nice pencil. Can I see it?” Eric’s long, black, jean-clad legs showed up beside her desk as she crouched to repack her overstuffed backpack.
Storey snatched the pencil off her seat where she’d set it and slipped it into the side pocket of her bag before zipping it shut. “It’s a pencil. Nothing special.”
Eric studied her face. “An art pencil?”
“Nope. Just a pencil.”
He raised his left eyebrow. “Then why won’t you let me take a look at it?” He waited another moment. “Where did you get it? I’d kinda like one for myself.”
“Check the stores. I’m sure someone will carry it.” Storey turned and walked out of the classroom.
Paying attention during school had been impossible with memories of her crazy, late-night outing running through her brain. She’d made it home from the mine that morning and raced to her bedroom, only to discover the undamaged sketchbook still lying where she’d thrown it on the floor. She’d stood stunned in her open doorway. No gaping hole in the floor, no damage even.
Of course there wasn’t. It couldn’t be any other way. Still she couldn’t reconcile what had actually happened in her mind. Finding escape in running away, she’d grabbed a change of clothes, a bite to eat and had left for school without waking up her mother. She’d needed time to think. Time to assess what the hell had happened. And why.
All the while, she’d questioned Eric’s opportune arrival at the mine entrance. It’s not like he’d offered an explanation for his presence there at that hour. Then again, neither had she. Still, as much as she appreciated the rescue, his arrival outside the mine entrance had unlikely coincidence written all over it. She didn’t believe in those. Ever.
He was up to something.
Shaking her head, Storey glanced behind her to make sure she was truly alone before racing the last leg home.
Her mother might be a little odd in the eyes of the town folk, but she’d done one thing right – she’d taught Storey common sense. Storey’s instincts screamed at her about Eric. He was too good-looking, too interesting and too interested in her to be normal. He was...different. Good different or bad different? Too early to tell.
She knew one thing – she wanted to go back into the mine.
Apprehension wafted through her. Okay, so maybe she didn’t
want to go back into the mine. It was more like she had to go back in.
Home loomed in front of her. With it came a sense of awe. A sense of joy. A grin split her face. She, Storey Dupont, had a door into a mine shaft through her bedroom floor. She didn’t know how and she sure as hell didn’t know why, but there it was. And she was going to go through it again – soon.
Well, after a snack and picking up a few supplies.
In the kitchen, she threw back a tall glass of water and opened the cupboard. There were fruit snacks in there somewhere.
“Storey?” Her mom wandered into the room, dressed in lounging pants and a camisole, rubbing sleep from her eyes. Jesus. It was three in the afternoon. Her assistant must be watching the store.
“There you are. Are you all right?”
“Of course, I’m fine, Mom. Why?”
“Well, Gina called this morning and mentioned that she saw you walking very early this morning with a boy.”
Storey glanced over at her mom and caught her deep blue gaze – not accusing Storey, exactly. At least not yet.
“And I know you were in bed last night because we spoke.”
Storey turned back to the cupboard without responding. Great. Someone had spotted her and had tattled already. About Eric no less.
After a moment, her mother continued, her voice forced into light casualness. “She was pretty sure she’d recognized you.” She cleared her throat. “Did you leave the house early? Without saying anything?” She hesitated. “And with a boy?”
Distracted, Storey struggled to find an answer.
“Storey?”
Storey had to give herself a shake. “Yes, I woke up early and thought I’d go out for a walk. You were asleep when I got back, so I got ready for school and left.”
“Oh. Uhm. You’re not trying to exercise at that hour, are you?” Her mother moved closer, reaching out a hand to Storey’s arm. She peered up into Storey’s eyes. “I know you’ve had a tough couple of months since Jeff moved away, and I know you want to be like the other girls and all, but you’re getting so skinny. I’m worried. You’re almost anorexic.”