Pagewalker

by H. Duke

  Tiger claws appeared through the cracks in the door. “I’m open to suggestions,” Randall said. “I’m sort of caught between a tiger and falling to my death.”

  “Was that a joke?” Dorian said, a disgusted look on his face.

  “Not now,” April said. Rex started to bark. She brought her hands to her head and saw the flashlight. “I have an idea, but we have to get the tiger away from the door. Can you distract it?”

  Dorian nodded. “I’ll try.” His voice was scared, but resolute. He went to the window and banged on it. “Hey! Psst!”

  The hole in the door was now large enough to admit one of the tiger’s paws; it stretched a claw through, extending the pads of its toes out into a half-star shape. Its eyes flashed iridescent green as the flashlight’s beam passed over them.

  Dorian turned back around. “It’s not working.”

  Randall breathed out. “Are you sure this plan of yours is going to work?”

  She nodded even though she wasn’t.

  “You’d better be,” Randall said, and he slid open the glass window and thrust his hand out into the open air. “Hey, cat! Over here!”

  Faster than she could see, the tiger ceased its progress on the door and launched itself at Randall’s arm. It seemed to happen in slow motion, and April thought that there was no way Randall would be able to pull his arm back in time. But he did, and Dorian slammed the window shut on the tiger at the last possible second so that its giant head splatted against the safety glass. Enraged, the tiger roared and hissed.

  “Whew! Yeah!” Randall whooped. “In your face! Literally!”

  April did not have time to worry about the cracking noises coming from the window. The glass was reinforced with a crisscross of metal wires, but how long could it really hold? She quickly unbolted what remained of the shredded door and hurled the flashlight into the darkness of the fiction room. To her amazement, it worked—the growling beast launched itself after the light, which landed with a clank two shelves in, the beam spinning in a circle.

  “Run!” she whispered at Randall and Dorian, and they flung themselves out towards the double doors, Randall cradling Rex in his arms. They had made it past the last shelf of books when April collided with Randall’s back.

  “Now’s not the most opportune moment for stopping,” Dorian hissed from behind them.

  Randall was staring directly at the gate, his eyes wide. He turned to April. “Do you see that, too?”

  “I do,” April said. The arch beneath the middle window was open to a humid darkness that made the powerless library look practically fluorescent. A gust of hot air hit her face; it wasn’t the dry warmth of the heating system, but moist, like breath. She looked at a window on the other side of the room, still being battered by snow. She turned back to the gate, detecting the rhythmic chirp of crickets. She trained her flashlight into the darkness, revealing vine-wrapped tree trunks and masses of leaves swaying in a light breeze.

  “No way,” Randall said, and April could sympathize. Even now, knowing what she knew, the gate felt wrong, somehow, in the way the jungle darkness went on and on, even though there should have been nothing there but air thirty feet above the ground.

  “We need to go,” she said, but Dorian grabbed her arm.

  “You can’t leave this,” he said. “This won’t go away. If the tiger remains on this side when the gate closes…”

  “Why me?” she asked. “Why does this have to be my problem?”

  “Because you’re the Pagewalker,” Dorian said simply.

  “It’s too late,” Randall said. April followed his gaze. The tiger had moved between them and the double doors, a figure of darkness outlined by the red light from the EXIT sign. It swiped the air with its paw and let out a half-roar.

  “Where do we go?” Dorian yelled.

  “The restroom!” Randall grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the men’s room, still carrying Rex in his free hand. Dorian followed closely behind. The air felt gelatinous, slowing them down. Then Dorian was closing the restroom door behind her. It was plywood, much flimsier than the one on her office. How long would it hold?

  Randall set Rex down, then grabbed the flashlight out of Dorian’s hand. He swung it at the bathroom mirror. It collided with a brittle smashing sound, leaving a web of cracks behind in the glass.

  “Are you mad?”

  “We need weapons,” Randall said. “It’s only a matter of time before it gets in.” He pulled the bandanna from around his neck, using it to protect his fingers as he wrenched the largest shard away from the mirror.

  As it pulled free, the beam from the flashlight in Randall’s hand jerked back, falling on an object back in the corner. April went and picked it up—it was a leather-bound book, obviously from the Werner collection.

  “Shine that light over here,” she whispered. She picked up the volume. “‘The Jungle Book, by Rudyard Kipling,’” she read out loud.

  “Now’s probably not the best time to critique my choice of reading material,” Randall said as he unwound the bandana from around his neck and wrapped it around the base of the glass shard. He swiped it through the air experimentally.

  Dorian watched him warily.

  “What?” Randall spat. “You’ve never had to improvise a weapon before, pretty boy?”

  Dorian ignored him and turned back to April. “The book’s no good to us. The tiger must be inside before we close it. We have to figure out a way to lure it back in without getting ourselves killed.”

  “Wait a minute,” Randall said, a look of realization coming over his face. He pointed one shaking finger towards the book in April’s hands. “Jungle book… jungle portal… jungle cat…. Are you trying to tell me…?”

  “Great.” Dorian ran one of his hands over his forehead. “Mae would be chuffed. She’s been gone less than a week and already we have a witness…”

  “Both of you shut up!” April hissed. She closed the book. The air suddenly felt very still, and April realized she’d been hearing ambient jungle noises. The gate must have closed.

  “That won’t help,” Dorian said. “the—”

  “Shut up!” she repeated, and he fell silent, but as though to underscore his point, the tiger roared loudly from somewhere in the library.

  April tried to ignore it. She ran her fingers over the leather cover of the book. She’d never been much of a reader, but she’d seen the movie. Were all the details the same?

  “I have an idea,” she said.

  “Another one?” Randall asked.

  “Yes. Do you think you can distract him again?”

  “How long you need?” Dorian asked.

  She calculated in her head. “Ten seconds. Just long enough to get into Mae’s office. As soon as I get there, you take cover somewhere.”

  Dorian thought. “I’ll go into the vault,” he said. “The power outage should have disabled the locks.”

  Randall nodded. “Rex and I will go with him.”

  She nodded, placing her hand on the door knob. “On the count of three. One… two… THREE!”

  They burst out of the restroom. April raced towards her office. Behind her, Dorian and Randall yelled and screamed; she could hear what sounded like books being thrown around. The blur of the tiger sped towards the commotion with a growl. She threw herself into her office and shut the door behind her as quietly as possible. She looked out the window just in time to see the beam of Dorian’s flashlight disappear behind the vault door across the library. Their faces appeared in the thin window above the door knob. The tiger inspected the still-fluttering pages and roared angrily. They’d made it.

  April ran to her desk, feeling for the emergency kit. Her hands were shaking and numb as she searched through it; finally, her fingers closed on the box of matches.

  “Yes!” she cried, too loudly. A moment later, the room seemed to shake as the tiger thrust its front paws through the hole in the door.

  “Ahh!” She yelled and yelled, not caring how loud she was
. It was too late; her plan wouldn’t work with the tiger blocking her exit. The beast tore at the hole in the door until it was almost big enough for it to stick its head and arm through. She closed her eyes, not wanting to see the claws and teeth that would soon sink into her flesh.

  “OVER HERE!”

  She opened her eyes. Randall was outside, waving the flashlight around and throwing books.

  “Come at me, you mangy animal! Leave her alone!”

  The tiger pulled out of the hole, pausing only a moment before running at Randall. April’s heart skipped a beat; there was no time for him to get to safety. Then he pushed on one of the shelves and it toppled over, missing the tiger, but impeding its progress long enough for him to run back into the restroom. The tiger hissed in anger and swiped at the bathroom door.

  Now or never. She burst out into the Werner Room. She ran over to the east wall, setting down the book on the table closest to it. Please, please, please, she thought, and opened the book.

  The crack opened slowly, again revealing the jungle darkness. A warm gust blew over her face, carrying the earthy smell of leaves and decaying vegetation, and the buzz of insects filled the air. An owl hooted nearby.

  She pulled an armful of books off the nearest shelf—pausing only momentarily to make sure they weren’t part of the Werner collection—and threw them down onto the table. She looked up. The chirping of the crickets had stopped, as had the sound of the tiger shredding the bathroom door. A growl came from the other side of the table, and she caught sight of Sher Khan’s glowing eyes. They lowered towards the ground as he crouched.

  Her hands shook so much that matches exploded out of the box as she opened it. She gripped one, striking it several times, but it didn’t light. She threw it to the ground, trying not to notice how the two glowing orbs grew bigger.

  She took another match. Please, she thought again, and then struck it against the strip on the side of the box. It crackled into radiance. Yes!

  She picked up a paperback and held the match to it. “I am so fired,” she said out loud as the flame spread to the edge of the book. At the same moment, Sher Khan leapt like a taut spring being released. In the light of the flame, April saw the tiger register the fire. He landed on the table, all feline grace gone as he scrambled backward away from the flame, his ears pressed against his skull and his mouth pulled back into a hiss. He turned to run into the stacks.

  “Oh, no you don’t,” April said, and hurled the flaming book in his path. The tiger sprang back towards her, but she had already ignited another paperback. Her fingers no longer trembled as she lit paperback after paperback, boxing the moaning ball of fur off from the library until he faced a barrier of burning, smoking books. The air was thick with the acrid scent of melting glue.

  Sher Khan hissed and swiped at the smoke, backing away towards the jungle. April lit the last book and held the flaming tome in her hand as she approached the tiger.

  “Bad kitty!” She waved the book in the air to make the flames larger. “Bad!”

  With one last hiss, he turned and disappeared into the jungle. April closed The Jungle Book before stomping out the smoldering masses on the floor. The gate closed.

  A few moments later, Randall, Dorian, and Rex were standing next to her.

  “This was your plan?” Randall said, gesturing down at the burning books.

  “I remembered that the tiger from The Jungle Book didn’t like fire,” she said.

  “Yeah, maybe in the movie,” Randall said. “In the book, he’s trampled by a herd of buffalo!”

  “I didn’t know that,” April said. “I’ve never read the book.”

  “You’re a librarian and you’ve never read The Jungle Book?”

  April crossed her arms. “It worked, didn’t it? I guess he was afraid of fire, after all. ‘Thanks, April, for saving my life!’”

  Randall breathed out. “Sorry,” he said. “You’re right.”

  April sighed, suddenly feeling very tired. “Look, Randall, can I give you guys a ride somewhere?”

  Randall nodded. “Yeah, thanks.”

  Dorian looked alarmed. “Are you coming back? We really must discuss—”

  She waved her hand, silencing him. “Whatever it is, it’s going to have to wait until tomorrow.” She paused, then leaned in closer. “Listen. I know you’re just trying to do what Mae told you, but… am I ever going to come here where I’m not in danger of dying?”

  Dorian looked away, biting his lip.

  She sighed. “I was afraid of that.”

  Chapter 7

  “We have reason to believe these masses are cancerous…”

  April stared at Dr. Applewood. Everything he’d said since he’d presented them with the MRIs showing the phantom-like shadows throughout Gram’s body had sounded like gibberish.

  He must have finished his speech, because Gram said, “So what are our options for treatment?”

  April forced herself to focus. It felt like trying to read while drunk.

  He grimaced. “I have discussed your case with my team, and we do not feel that any of the conventional treatments will be effective at this point.”

  Gram looked shocked. “But the chemo was very effective for me.”

  Dr. Applewood shook his head. “Unfortunately, the cancer has spread. Somehow, we missed it during your monthly checkups. We’re dealing with a new beast, here.”

  “I see.” Gram said. To anyone who didn’t know her, the hard set of her jaw would indicate resoluteness. April could see through that to the fear underneath. “So what do we do now?”

  “Go home. The cancer does not seem very aggressive at this point. You still have some good time left. Enjoy it.”

  “How much... good time?” Gram asked.

  “Months, maybe. After that, we can discuss hospice care options…”

  “No.” April said, shaking her head. It was like she had been paralyzed, then suddenly was able to move again. “That’s not acceptable. We can’t just give up.”

  Dr. Applewood did not look surprised or angry at her outburst. He said calmly, “In the vast majority of cases like your grandmother’s, the use of chemo and radiation has only diminished quality of life without a significant increase in lifespan.”

  “There has to be something we can do. An experimental treatment? Anything!”

  “April…” Gram said, a warning tone in her voice.

  “That is all our hospital is equipped to provide,” the doctor said.

  “Are you telling me that another hospital may be able to help us?” April said. She was willing to grab onto any possibility of hope.

  “Our hospital is staffed with some of the finest doctors and specialists in the country,” the doctor said. “But there are private hospitals that have been having limited success with their own methods in cases like your grandmother’s. But…”

  “But what?”

  “They’re prohibitively expensive.” the doctor said.

  “We’ll find a way.”

  “Even if you could, they’ve had fifty percent success rates at best.”

  “Fifty percent is better than giving up!”

  The doctor interlaced his fingers in front of him on the table. “I wish there was something else we could do.”

  “Is that all?” Gram asked.

  “For now,” the doctor says. “But we’ll schedule a follow-up visit for next week.”

  Gram sighed. “Thank you, doctor.”

  They walked out into the hallway.

  “We need to look into this private hospital as soon as possible,” April said. “We can’t let it get worse.”

  “April,” Grandma said, looking tired, “You heard him. We can’t afford it.”

  “We’ll find a way,” April said. “We can take a loan out on the house.”

  “No. That house is all I have left to leave you. It’s your security after I’m gone. We are not throwing away your future for a chance at… what? An extra year or two in a hospital bed, needles and tu
bes in every square inch of my body? I don’t think so.”

  She stalked out of the hospital and April followed her, not daring to say any more. They rode home in complete silence. How was she going to get the money they needed? She pushed aside the thought that kept sneaking forward: Thaddeus. His offer was the only option.

  ~~~

  As she walked into the library, April wondered how she was going to get through the day. It was bad enough when she had to figure out how to learn four years’ worth of college-level library science in a week, but adding the gate, Dorian, and now Gram’s prognosis… she was so close to losing it.

  She hadn’t known what to expect when she entered the Werner Room. Dorian had assured her that the early morning maintenance workers were used to having to make quick clean-ups. When she came in, the door to the restroom had been replaced, but her office door was missing. There was a note on her desk.

  Your office door has been taken in to have the hinges repaired. We should have it back later this week. Sorry for the inconvenience.

  -Maintenance.

  p.s.—please remind patrons that all drinks must have lids. Due to a spill of what appears to be red Kool-aid, we will need to replace the rug near the east wall.

  She glanced out towards the east wall. Sure enough, the large rug that had been covered in scorch marks the night before was missing. She wondered what other “messes” the maintenance crew had cleaned up while Mae was on duty.

  Movement from the direction of the reference desk caught her eye. Janet was walking towards her office. Oh, great. Just what she needed.

  “Randall’s been asking about you all day,” Janet said before she even entered the office, without even bothering to throw out a greeting. “He’s driving me insane.”

  Oh, shit. “What did he say?” she asked, wondering if she should be doing damage control.

  “Only that he wants to talk to you. He’s just been sitting there, three feet away from the reference desk since noon. It’s getting annoying. I’ll send him over.”

  “Thanks.”

  A few seconds later, Randall strode into the office, Rex following loyally on his heels. She’d dropped him off at what he claimed was a friend’s house the previous evening, and she’d even waited to make sure he was let in (the last thing she needed was to find out he’d frozen to death). Still, he looked like he hadn’t slept at all.