by W. J. May
“What? No, I’m not. Look, I couldn’t sleep so I went down to the creek to watch the sunrise.” She reached out and gave her mom a quick hug. “I’m fine. I eat. Honest.” Storey hoped the conversation would die a natural death at this point. Her mom had spent most of Storey’s preteen years trying to make her ‘see the light’ in one matter or another.
Storey had always preferred the dark, which might account for her need to get back into that blackness.
She still hadn’t figured that trip out. She wanted to try it again, but to enter from the mine side so she could have her exit ready and have the benefit of daylight inside. If Eric had been able to open the door, she should be able to as well. What was the chance of the mine having power and working lights? And then, after checking it out thoroughly from that side, she’d try going through the floor again.
“I have to go out for a bit. What time is dinner? I promise, I’ll be home and I’ll eat.”
“Around six. Where are you going?”
“Just downtown. Maybe buy a new pair of jeans.” Like hell. She hated shopping. Still, she had to find some excuse.
“Do you need money?” Her mother brightened at the mention of such a normal, girlie activity. She reached for her purse and pulled out a couple of twenty dollar bills. “Here. I can’t think of the last time you asked me for some. You’re such a good kid.”
Storey knew better than to answer that statement. Pocketing the money, she thanked her mom and headed back outside. She started walking in the direction of the mall. Once out of sight of her home, she changed course and retraced the route she’d taken home with Eric that morning. She knew the area vaguely. When she came to the gravel road, she knew she was on the right track. In her mind, she’d half doubted that the door would even be there. Rounding the bend, she stopped in relief. There it was. She ran the last few yards. At the entrance, she looked around and frowned. This was too accessible. Shouldn’t they have made this entrance more secure? To stop kids from going inside.
She tried the door knob. Locked.
No surprise. She opened her backpack and pulled out a thin metal tool she’d gotten from Jeff months ago. They’d watched this cool video that had demonstrated how to pick locks. She’d tried it on her own house and had managed it with both a bobby pin and a credit card. This wire thingy was the best.
Bending down, she studied the side of the knob. This door had a different locking mechanism than the one at home. She frowned. This might not work. She played with the steel pick for several moments, then switched to using her bank card. Still, it wouldn’t open. Frustration mounted. She wanted in. Damn it. She studied the surrounding area.
Eric had gotten in. If he could get in, then so could she. Ten minutes later, she had to give it up. The damn thing wouldn’t budge.
Hands fisted on her hips, she considered her options. Should she go home and try to enter from her room again? With a flashlight, she should be able to find the door from inside the mine.
This method certainly wasn’t getting her anywhere.
The return trip home was fast. She slipped onto the back porch and into the kitchen without letting her mom know. She hurried to her room. Gathering up a piece of chalk and a bottle of water, she searched for her flashlight, finally locating it under the bed. At the last minute, she snatched up her hoodie and checked that she had her cell phone...just in case. Turning her attention to the sketchbook on her floor, she hooked her backpack on her shoulder. Taking a deep breath, Storey hopped onto the bed, stared down at the picture in front of her...and jumped.
She landed on the floor. “Damn it.” Scrambling back up onto her bed, she tried again. Nothing. What was wrong? And if it worked once it would work twice. So what was different this time? She considered this issue while standing on her bed, looking down. She’d been scared and angry last time, could that have made the difference? If so, she was getting pretty damned pissed just thinking about it now. She jumped. Nothing. Feeling like an idiot, she climbed up and said, “Open sesame.” Then jumped.
Nothing.
Shit.
This was ridiculous. “Why is it not working?” She sat on the edge of her bed, picked up the book and studied the sketch. She bolted upright. “What the hell?”
The door in her sketch was no longer open. Somehow, though her hand hadn’t touched a pencil to paper, the door in her drawing now appeared closed.
She hadn’t done it herself. Whatever had opened the door – had closed the door. That’s why she couldn’t get in anymore. The damned door was closed.
Reaching into the backpack, she grabbed up her pencil and tried to make the door in her sketch look open. The pencil wouldn’t touch the paper. She flipped to a new page, and tried to copy the sketch onto the fresh paper, only this time with the door open. Except the pencil had a mind of its own and drew the door closed.
Storey sat back.
What was going on here?
Magic?
Satanism?
Surely not. Her mother dabbled in Wiccanism...could she have done something dangerous? Not likely. The religion was all about good not evil – no matter what people thought. The sunlight shone through her bedroom window, brightening the room, making it hard to think on dark and supernatural factors in the face of so much light. She glanced back down at her book. The light shone on the picture, giving it an odd look. Twisting the sketchbook around, she flicked it up and down in the sunbeam. Nothing changed. Her pencil flashed.
She held it up in the weird light. Though it was old and kind of ratty, the kinship she’d felt with it had only strengthened with time. It flashed again. What was that? She bent closer, trying to see what was inscribed on the side. She hadn’t even noticed it before. She twisted it slowly in the light. There.
It was some kind of script.
Storey tried to read it. She twisted it around and around. The writing faded when not in the sunlight. In the light, the writing etched itself in as if by some unseen hand.
“So cool,” she murmured. “What does it mean?”
And how could she find out? Grabbing a different pencil, she tried to copy the script down on a piece of scrap paper. It took several tries at holding it in the light to get it just right. The inscribed lines didn’t appear to be words, per say, or at least not in any language she’d seen before. Numbers? Dates? She didn’t know. Taking the scrap of paper downstairs to her mom’s computer, she scanned it in, then dragged the image to her flash drive. Back upstairs, she searched the Internet for ancient fonts and languages.
By late afternoon, she’d found nothing. Damn it. For the millionth time, she glanced at her floor and wondered if she should try again. She decided against it. The time had disappeared on her and she didn’t want to spend the night in that mine. Still...maybe she should. It wasn’t that late. She hopped off her computer chair and walked closer.
“Storey? Dinner time.”
So much for a quick trip into a tunnel, at least for the moment. “Coming.” She put away her stuff and tucked the scrap of paper with the copied script under her keyboard. She couldn’t explain why she felt the need to hide it. For the same reason, she’d renamed the scan as Chemistry Paper. That should keep people in the dark. Not that anyone would see it. Still...
She headed downstairs to dinner and dishes. That was another thing that sucked about being an only child – no one to share the chores with.
It took another hour before she could return to her room, telling her mom and her mom’s arriving Wiccan friends that she had a lot of homework to do. She rolled her eyes at that lame excuse. When did she ever do homework?
Closing her bedroom door behind her, her gaze caught and held on her sketchbook. Should she try again? The phone rang. Storey ignored it. It was never for her. She had a cell phone like everyone else.
“Storey, answer the phone, please. It’s for you.”
Storey stilled. Who’d be calling her? On the house phone?
“Storey, did you hear me?”
�
�Yes. Thanks.” She walked to the little stand in the middle of the hallway and picked up the cordless phone, then headed back to her room. “Hello?”
“Storey?”
“Yes.” Her frown deepened. She didn’t recognize the voice. “Who is this?”
“Eric.”
“Eric.” She winced. Was that breathy squeaky voice hers? Yikes. “Why are you calling? And why this number?”
He laughed. A deep sound that sent the butterflies in her stomach into flight. Damn. That was so not a good thing. What could he possibly want?
“I wanted to make sure you were all right after being locked in that tunnel. And you didn’t give me your cell number.”
She flopped on the bed. “What? Oh. Here it is.” She rattled off the number of her cell. Although she rarely used it, she’d rather her phone calls were private and off her mother’s radar. “And yeah. I’m fine. I wasn’t really locked in.”
“So what do you call it then? I’d planned on asking you about it today, except you left so quickly, I didn’t get a chance.”
“Sorry about that. Not to worry, I’m fine,” she said lightly. Silence stretched between them. She took a deep breath. She shouldn’t say anything. She should keep her mouth shut. “I might go back there.”
“What!”
She winced. “You don’t have to shriek. God, you sound like a girl.”
“Great. Thanks for that.” She could almost feel his glare through the phone.
She rolled her eyes and sat up. “There’s something weird going on. I want to check it out.”
“And get locked in permanently next time?”
“Yeah, now that’s one of those weird parts I don’t understand. How could you have been passing by at exactly the right moment? Not to mention how could you have opened that door? When I tried, it was locked up tight.”
The ensuing silence was ominous. The tone of his voice dropped, giving it a dangerous edge. “You tried to open the door? When?”
“Right after you got me out, remember Then again after school. I wanted to explore the entrance, only I couldn’t open the door. It had a weird lock on it.”
“I’d imagine that’s to keep people out. Did you ever consider how dangerous it might be to go back to that place?”
“Uhm.” She grinned. “Not really.”
“Are you always this impulsive?”
She shrugged. “Yeah, maybe.”
“I can’t believe it. You need a keeper.” Outrage shimmered through the phone.
“Like that’s going to happen,” she scoffed. “And if you don’t have any other reason for calling, I’ll say good-bye now.” She didn’t feel like getting chewed out by him any more than she did by one of her teachers.
“Wait. Look, please don’t go back into the mine. It’s dangerous. I don’t want you to get hurt or lost.”
Storey lifted an eyebrow and stared down at the phone. He didn’t? How’d that happen? “I won’t. I’m used to doing things alone.”
“I don’t care.” Exasperation slipped into his voice. “Please don’t go alone.”
“I have to. There’s no one to go with me.”
“I will. I’ll go with you.”
***
He hadn’t said that, had he? That way? Damn. Yes, he was supposed to get close to her, only he hadn’t wanted to get close to her. The night sky had deepened, darkened to obsidian. What he really wanted was to protect her from doing something foolish that could impact both their dimensions. But what that could be, he didn’t know. Humans had an insatiable curiosity and a self-destructiveness that horrified his people. If they killed themselves off, it wouldn’t impact his people. If they killed the planet though, both sides would die.
For that reason, his government had worked hard at not letting Storey’s people know they existed. His home had to be protected from the uncontrolled humans. A veil separated their worlds and all access to crossover points had to go through a major vetting process. Only the best of the scientists were allowed over and only with a strict security detail. In this way they could keep watch over the Earth in the human’s dimension.
Their shared planet had to be protected. They just didn’t know how at this point. The population of his world was less than one percent of Storey’s yet still spread across the same area, so hidden surveillance was the only way.
Everything had been in happy harmony for ages, until this. No treachery was involved. Just a simple accident and a scientist had lost something that could put both worlds at risk. A team had been dispatched immediately. They’d followed the inherent energy of the ancient tool to its location only to watch as one of the otherworlders picked it up in front of them.
Storey.
“Eric?”
Eric gave himself a mental shake. He was being an idiot. Storey was his assignment. Any way that made it work, made it right.
“Sorry, I was distracted by something else.”
“Yeah, duh.”
“I meant it. I’ll go with you. We can try to open the door from this side. If that doesn’t work, then I don’t know what else to try. It worked last time though,” he added helpfully.
“Right. I might have another way in. I’m just not sure.”
Eric frowned, all his senses on high alert. “How?” His voice sharpened as he realized what she implied. The only other method to enter that tunnel was through a portal.
“There are other entrances. Most old mines have abandoned shafts.”
“Hence all those warning signs saying danger. Remember those?”
Her voice deepened, slowed. And she should have. Talk about focus. “You know, I’m not so sure I do.”
Great. Now she had selective vision too. “Well, they were there.”
“No need to snap at me.” She sniffed.
He grinned into the phone. She was starting to grow on him. That defiant streak of hers baffled him. He couldn’t help but be intrigued.
“I’m going to try again.”
“Try what? The door? Not tonight?” He tried to sound horrified. From what he’d observed, most people on this side of the veil avoided going out in the darkness. His side was the opposite. The sun shone hotly so much of the time that many people preferred to go about in the dark. The geography of both sides was the same, with one sun and one moon, an atmosphere necessary for life and various animals and plant life dotting the countryside. The two peoples resembled each other physically. There the similarities appeared to end.
Storey’s people appeared to be less developed. They relied heavily on what they called technology. They appeared to choose their futures by the type of work they liked or the type of work that found them. Giving away their power instead of corralling it and fine-tuning it. He didn’t know if they had the same abilities of his kind. Maybe they had died off over the years. In his world, everyone had some special skill, which developed throughout childhood. Once an adult, they were already in their field. They knew what they were meant to do because they’d already been doing it.
He didn’t get it.
These people had so much to give. So much more they could do.
Yet, they did nothing. They watched an object called TV all day or played games on another box called a computer or a video game. His world had similar machines, but not for games. Never for games.
“Hello? Are you there?”
Sheesh. “Sorry.”
“Look, you called me. Not the other way around. I’m going. You can come or not come. I don’t care. I’m going to bed now. See you tomorrow.”
“Wait.”
She was gone. Damn it. He stared down at the phone in his hand, something else these people appeared to be permanently attached to. Now what had she said? He’d missed part of it. Something about going back and he could come or not. So, she wasn’t planning on going anywhere tonight?
He understood only so much of the weird innuendos and body language of these people.
Was she going back tonight?
* * *
&
nbsp; Chapter 5
Storey woke energized the next morning. It was Saturday. She planned on going to the mine. By way of her floor – as soon as she figured it out. As much as she’d told Eric he could come, she wasn’t planning on telling him about her private entrance.
She grabbed up her favorite pencil and sketchbook. Opening to the right page, she laid it down on the floor. As it hit, something caught her eye. Her heart sped up and she crouched down for a better look. The door in her picture had unlocked itself. She might just be able to get through.
First she had to get dressed. She didn’t want to end up in some strange place dressed in nightclothes. After donning jeans, t-shirt and sneakers and brushing her hair, she stood on her bed and considered if she’d forgotten anything. Her backpack was still packed with water and a flashlight along with chalk to mark her locations. She’d get it right this time.
After a few moments pondering the contents, she added her pencil and a smaller sketchbook. And felt like an idiot. If anyone saw her preparing for a trip through her bedroom floor, they’d have her committed.
She stood up, took one deep breath for courage, and jumped.
And went right though the floor.
She came to an abrupt halt in the darkness. Her knees buckled, sending her to one side. Instead of being afraid, she laughed, joy and relief mixing with a sense of exultation. She wasn’t crazy. This wasn’t her imagination. She’d really jumped through her floor. No damage. No broken beams or flooring or ceiling.
Just a doorway in her sketch. How amazing was that?
Standing up, Storey searched the darkness, listening for identifiable sounds. She’d thought long and hard about what she’d do once she made it back here. Cocking her head to one side, she realized she could hear...nothing. No sounds of water running down the walls, or mice scrabbling against the ground. Not even a bit of breeze whistling down the tunnels. Nothing.