Jack: Secret Circles

by F. Paul Wilson

  “Hey. Steps. Sort of.”

  A stone wall sat under Weezy’s side. Deep horizontal grooves had been cut into the surface, allowing it to function as a ladder of sorts.

  “I’m going down for a look,” Jack said.

  “You think it’s safe?”

  He looked at her. “You mean, is there anyone or anything down there? You saw that door. It hasn’t been opened for ages.”

  She shrugged. “I guess you’re right. It’s just that it’s so … dark.”

  He smiled and held up the flashlight. “That’s why we have these.”

  He wasn’t sure why he wanted to descend into the space. Maybe simply because it was there. Or maybe because he didn’t think he’d ever get another chance like this.

  What ever the reason, he felt a tug from the darkness.

  He stuck the flashlight in his back pocket and eased himself over the edge until his sneaker found one of the grooves. Then it was almost like climbing a ladder.

  When he reached the bottom his sneakers splashed a little. More water down here than he’d originally thought. He was glad he’d worn his old Converses.

  “See anything?”

  Weezy knelt at the edge of the opening, staring down at him. He glanced around: stone wall in front of him, stone wall behind, and blackness left and right.

  “Looks like I’m in a passage of some sort.”

  Pulling out the flashlight, he turned it on and moved to his right. He didn’t go far before he ran into a third stone wall. This was cracked and flaky, with water seeping around its edges and through the cracks.

  He closed his eyes and oriented himself within the Lodge and realized he was below and beyond its west wall. Which put this wall right near the bank of the lake. He gauged that it would normally sit just above surface level. But now, with the lake so high, it had to be underwater. This was the lake seeping through.

  He backtracked and found Weezy where he’d left her, peering down at him.

  “Empty dead end back there. I’ll check this way.”

  He’d walked perhaps twenty feet when his beam picked out something leaning against a wall. It took him a moment to recognize its shape, and when he did, he knew he had to show Weezy.

  He made his way back to the shaft of light shining from the Lodge’s basement.

  “Weez! I found something!”

  “What? A book, a scroll? What?”

  “You’ve got to see it to believe it. Trust me.”

  She hesitated barely a second. “I do.” She held out her flashlight. “Catch.”

  He did just that, then watched her scamper down the wall like she’d done it a thousand times.

  “You’re pretty good at that.”

  She smiled. “Queen of the monkey bars—remember?”

  He nodded. She’d been pretty limber and agile as a kid. A lot of the boys had been unable to keep up with her.

  She took her flashlight and turned it on.

  “Now. Where’s this thing I’ve got to see?”

  “Follow me.”

  Aiming his light far ahead, he led her down the passage. His beam soon found the object.

  “There. How soon can you figure out what it is?”

  Jack had been practically on top of it before he recognized it.

  Weezy slowed her pace, then stopped a few feet from it.

  “It looks like the Septimus seal.”

  “Right. It’s the sigil. But I’ve never seen one like this.”

  All the others had been either sculpted or molded in relief on a circular base. This was just the figure itself—six feet high, Jack guessed—and not made of the usual stone or plaster.

  Weezy stepped forward and ran a finger over its dust-laden surface.

  “It feels like …”

  Jack did the same and knew what she was thinking. Under the grime the surface was a smooth, shiny black.

  Her voice was hushed with awe. “The same material as our pyramid!” She ran her fingers over the rough edges at one of the corners. “But the border is all broken off.”

  “All except one section up top.” Jack ran his flash beam over it and immediately recognized the figures carved into the surviving section. “Hey, Weez—”

  “I see. The same seven glyphs as on the pyramid—what do they mean? What do they spell? And why aren’t they on the other sigils, like the one over the front door?”

  “Lots of good questions, Weez. And I’ve got a few more. Like, what was written on the other sections? And why does Mister Drexler have one of the glyphs on his cane?”

  She looked at him. “The glyphs here and on the locking mechanism on that door don’t leave much question as to the true owner of the pyramid.”

  He sighed and gave a reluctant nod. “Yeah. The Lodge.”

  Too bad.

  “You don’t really think I’m leaving it here, do you? No way. Finders keepers, and I found it.” Her expression turned fierce as her voice rose. “I am never, ever giving it up again!”

  “Okay, but—”

  “What is this place, anyway?” she said as she flashed her light around—her mood had done a complete about-face. It seemed to change direction like her flash beam. “I can’t believe they built all this just to store this one broken-down sigil. I—” She stopped when her beam picked up a dark rectangle in the wall farther down on the left side of the passage. “Doesn’t that look like … ?”

  “Yeah,” Jack said, moving toward it. “A doorway. Let’s see.”

  Yes, a doorway in the stone wall, with no door. And a little to its right, another opening, smaller, square, chest high.

  “This almost looks like a window.”

  “But that’s crazy,” Weezy said. “Who’d put a window underground?”

  Jack shone his beam within and saw more walls and what looked like another doorway. He stepped inside and found a partially collapsed stone ceiling. Rocky debris littered the space. Through the second doorway lay another space, this one even more choked with debris.

  “You know …,” Weezy said, close behind him, “this almost looks like a house.”

  “Exactly what I was thinking. A very small house, but a house.”

  They returned to the passageway and moved on. They passed a rock-and-dirt-choked area where something appeared to have collapsed. And then on the right, another doorway leading into what looked like another little house.

  And farther along they came to a wider passage crossing theirs. Jack positioned himself at the center of the intersection and turned in a full circle, beaming his flash in all directions.

  Back the way they had come he could see the shaft of light from the trapdoor opening, but he was sure they’d progressed beyond the walls of the Lodge. Down the three other paths he found darkness and the hint of other doorways and windows.

  “Ohmygod,” Weezy said as she turned with him. “You know what this is?”

  “It … it looks like a town.”

  “Exactly! Jack, we’ve discovered a buried town!”

  “Who would bury a town?”

  “It’s not so much buried as built over. It happens all the time. Look at the ancient city of Troy. Archeologists think there are eight cities on that site, one built over another time and time again. It’s a layer cake. And York, En gland, is built over a Roman town, and sections of Rome and London are built over previous towns and cities.”

  Jack looked around. “So you think we’re in one of those lost towns of the Pines you’re always talking about?”

  “Yes and no. I think this is an ancient, early settlement. Maybe these people built the megalith pyramid out in the Pines. Somewhere along the way, the original Quakerton—what we call Old Town—was built over it.” She started jumping up and down in a sort of Snoopy happy dance. “This is amazing! Amazing! It’s part of the Secret History!”

  Jack could see how it could have been built over—the passages were all roofed with stone.

  “Well, if these used to be their streets, why did they cover them?
I mean, it’s like an ancient mall.”

  “Maybe they were hiding from someone or something.”

  “Like what?”

  Weezy shrugged. “How should I know?”

  “I thought you knew all this stuff.”

  “In everything I’ve read about the Pines, lost towns were mentioned, but never anything like this. This wasn’t even hinted at. Not once. Oh, God, this is so great!”

  Then they stood in silence a moment, each turning and beaming light down the passages.

  “Well,” Jack said finally, letting his light come to rest on Weezy. “What do you want to do?”

  “I want to explore—I really do. We may never get another chance.” She chewed her lip. “But I have this awful, terrible fear …”

  “Of what?”

  “That someone is going to come down to the basement, see the door open, and close it.”

  Jack’s stomach lurched. He looked back along their original passage and was reassured by the warm glow shining from the ceiling.

  “You had to say that? You had to say that? Now you’ve got me thinking about it.”

  “Sorry. It’s just that it’s my worst nightmare.”

  “Well, thanks, because now you’ve just made it mine. Let’s get out of here.”

  Before Weezy could reply, Jack heard a high-pitched sound. He touched her arm.

  “You hear that?”

  She cocked her head and stood statue still for a heartbeat or two as the sound rose and fell in pitch and volume. She closed her eyes and looked like she was in a trance.

  “That’s what I heard on the tour. I think it’s a voice.”

  Now that she mentioned it, it did sound something like a voice.

  Suddenly she gasped as her eyes flew open.

  “Jack, it’s a child!”

  12

  After listening awhile longer, concentrating with everything he had, Jack had to agree. It wasn’t a cat.

  “Yeah. It does sound sort of like a kid.” A small, very scared kid. “Cody!”

  “Oh, no!” Weezy said. “You think Drexler kidnapped him and locked him down here?”

  As weird and creepy as Mr. Drexler was, Jack didn’t think so.

  “Think about it: How would he get him down here? Not through that door we used—we’re the first to open that thing in a long time.”

  “Okay. So maybe it wasn’t him. But if it’s Cody, how did he get down here?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe he fell in somewhere and couldn’t get out. We’ll worry about that later.” He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “Cody!”

  They stood statue still and silent, waiting. And then it came … faint, faraway, even higher pitched, but unmistakable.

  “Hello? Is someone there? Hello?”

  Jack wanted to cheer. He was alive! Cody was alive, and they’d found him!

  “We hear you, Cody!” Jack called. “We’re coming to get you! Just keep talking!”

  But he didn’t keep talking. He started crying, and the relief and terror in the sound tore at Jack.

  He grabbed Weezy’s arm. “Let’s go.”

  But she held back, looking over her shoulder. Jack followed her gaze and saw the shaft of light from the trapdoor. He remembered her fear of someone closing it and locking them down here.

  … it’s my worst nightmare …

  Yeah, but they couldn’t leave Cody. Not after what he’d already been through.

  Handing her his flashlight, he said, “Wait here.”

  He ran back toward the trapdoor. Along the way he encountered water sooner than expected. It was spreading and deepening, and had reached all the way to the first doorway now. At the base of the trapdoor ladder it was ankle deep and cold as it filled his sneakers.

  That stone barrier at the other end must have sprung more leaks, or the existing ones had enlarged.

  He rushed up the ladder to the cellar and checked beneath the trapdoor. The pyramid had fallen out when they’d lifted the door. He pulled a chair over to the opening, then lifted the door and wedged it against it. Then he reinserted the pyramid in the cavity and began turning. It took only a fraction of the effort he’d needed to open it.

  As he turned he watched three latches—top, bottom, and side—slide out. He’d thought there was only one. Man, they sure must have wanted to keep people out of that passage down there.

  And then a thought struck: Or had they wanted to keep something down there from coming up?

  Don’t go there, he told himself.

  He pulled the pyramid from the cavity, pushed the door back, and then checked out his handiwork: With the latches locked out, the door couldn’t close.

  And without the pyramid—which Jack was going to take with him—no way anyone could retract the latches.

  Unless, of course, they had another pyramid.

  Don’t go there either, he thought.

  He slipped through the doorway and down the ladder to the passage—

  —where the water was now about an inch above his ankles.

  Not good. That barrier had to be leaking pretty badly. If it ever gave way …

  And especially don’t go there.

  They had to find Cody and get him out ASAP.

  He thought about going for help, but that could take a while. How long for the two of them to find Cody? Five minutes tops. And another five to get him back to the ladder. The poor kid had waited long enough.

  He splashed back to Weezy and showed her the pyramid.

  “No one can lock us down here now.” He placed it in the center of the intersection. “And this will mark the spot we need to come back to.”

  “Where are you?” cried a small, faraway voice. “Are you still there?”

  “We’re coming, Cody!” Jack called. “Stay right where you are and keep yelling ‘hello.’ We’ll find you.” He looked at Weezy. “Okay. Let’s go get him.”

  Weezy nodded and pointed to their left. “I think he’s that way.”

  Jack agreed, so they set off in that direction.

  They’d speed-walked maybe a hundred feet when they came to another intersection, this one a T with the leg running to their right. Cody’s voice seemed to be coming down the leg.

  Jack pointed and started in that direction, then stopped. He looked back the way they’d come and saw only darkness.

  “Hey, we could get lost.”

  “I don’t get lost,” Weezy said. “And you won’t as long as you stay with me.”

  True. Weezy never got lost. She’d wander all through the Pines and always find her way back. But this was different.

  “You’re sure? This isn’t like being in the Barrens. You can’t see the sky. No sun or stars to guide you. There’s not even any light.”

  She tapped her forehead. “I don’t know how it works, but it’s all up here. I always remember the paths I take. I can always go back the way I came.”

  That wasn’t all she remembered. Her photographic memory didn’t let her forget anything she’d ever read. He envied her that.

  “Okay. I’m counting on you.”

  They hurried on, their progress slowed by a pile of rocks and dirt where the ceiling had given way. They picked their way over that, then continued on.

  “I’m worried about something else,” Weezy said. “What if it’s not Cody?”

  “How can it be anyone else? He’s the only kid who’s disappeared.”

  “But what if it’s not a kid? What if it’s something else?”

  “Oh, jeez. You’re not going to start, are you? What else could it be?”

  “Well, we know there’s something out in the Pines, something that chases people—we know that from personal experience.”

  “Okay, yeah. But that was a bear.”

  “You’re calling it a bear, but we never got a clear look at it.”

  “It was a bear, Weez.”

  Had to be.

  “But what if it was something else … something with the power to lure you to it by sounding
like a frightened child?”

  “Weez, it’s speaking to us. Listen.”

  Somewhere up ahead a child’s voice was repeating, “Hello? … Hello … Hello?”

  “I know, I know. I just …”

  They came to another four-way intersection and Weezy stopped, turning in a circle.

  “You know what?” she said.

  Jack wasn’t sure he wanted to hear this.

  “What?”

  “Remember the black cube the pyramid came in, and how it had that pattern of crisscrossing lines etched on its inside?”

  “Sure. You made a tracing.”

  “Well, I’ve always wondered what they represented. I mean they weren’t random. They formed a sort of grid. I’m beginning to believe it was a street map.”

  “Of this place?”

  She nodded. “Yeah. I’m not sure yet, but—hey!” She jumped as if she’d been bitten on the foot. “What—?”

  Jack aimed his flashlight down and saw water swirling around their sneakers. He hadn’t noticed because his feet were already wet.

  “This is not good,” he said. “This is not good at all.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “The lake … it’s seeping through.”

  Her voice rose an octave. “You call this seeping?”

  “Okay. It’s breaking through.”

  “But Jack, have you noticed? We’ve been on a slight incline. That means the water’s already lots deeper back where we came from.”

  “Hello?” came the little voice. “Are you still there?”

  “We’re coming, Cody!” Jack called, then turned to Weezy. “We’d better hurry.”

  She said, “Thank you, Captain Obvious,” but her tone didn’t carry its usual edge.

  She was worried. So was Jack.

  Flashing their lights ahead of them, they broke into a trot. Recurrent areas of debris where the roof had collapsed slowed them, but they kept going.

  They arrived at an intersection where the voice seemed to be coming more from their right, so they veered that way. But after maybe twenty feet …

  “Eew!” Weezy said. “What’s that smell?”

  Together they skidded to a halt as a rotten odor rammed into his nostrils. They each clapped a hand over nose and mouth. Not the same as the thing in the Pines last night.