by Ray Garton
The security man had led him quickly down the tunnel of tinted glass and wrought iron. The gate at the end of it was hanging half-open. Beyond that, they hurried down a long path through the dark, until a rather pathetic shack came into view. Its door was hanging open as well. Beyond that door, light cut through the thick darkness, moving this way and that.
"Just keep going," Shockley said, "go right inside that building, and if you miss a step, I'll blow you in half."
The man did not miss a step. They closed in on the building and walked through the door.
"Lieutenant Shockley! LAPD!"
"Thank god!" Ethan blurted.
Shockley said, "I thought so. How in the hell did you people get in here and why?"
"We'll tell you later," Ed replied. "Right now, we've gotta get this fuckin' elevator to work!"
Shockley did not hesitate. He stabbed the barrel of the shotgun into the security man's back hard and barked, "Mr. Security Person, how do we get that elevator to work?"
The man spoke for the first time since Shockley had introduced him to the shotgun: "I-I don't, um, really, I ... I don't know."
Shockley leaned forward, reached around, and placed his hand firmly against the front of the man's throat while pushing the shotgun even harder into his back.
"You either work the elevator," Shockley said, "or I pull this trigger and make some gut graffiti."
In an instant, the man replied, "To the left of the elevator, up high. A panel. It moves away ... if you know how to move it."
"Then let's go there and do it," Shockley said. "Now."
Shockley followed as the man moved forward. With a trembling hand, he pushed on a particular part of the wall about a foot above his head, and a panel the size of a videotape slid aside to reveal a large round button and a tiny square one, smaller than a Chiclet.
"If you don't hit the right button," Shockley said, "you're a dead man. Keep that in mind. You might actually survive this whole thing, unless you make one mistake. Think about it."
The man released a wet, quivering sigh, raised a hand, and punched the tiny square button.
There was an immediate rumbling sound beneath them, the sound of something moving up toward them.
"What's the other button for?" Shockley asked curiously.
"It's a trap. Sets off an alarm." The man's voice was dry and hoarse.
"Then you did a good thing, my friend," Shockley said.
The elevator doors slid open with a whispering rumble to reveal a red-lit cubicle.
They filed into the elevator, all six of them, Shockley and his captive entering last. Once they were inside and facing front, the shotgun still in the security man's back, Shockley said, "Push the right button. You can do it. I've seen your work."
The man lifted a shaking hand and hit a button.
The doors closed and the elevator started down.
Ed killed the flashlight and dropped it into his pocket again. He looked up to see a video camera watching them. He pulled the .22 with the silencer from beneath his suitcoat, aimed it, and fired two muffled shots. The camera shattered and part of it fell to the floor ...
27
"What do you mean, you can't find them?" Dr. Corbus shouted into the telephone. "Do you have any idea how slowly you will die if you cannot find them? ... Elevator camera? ... Why isn't it working? ... The elevator is moving? ... Then why the hell isn't ... oh, shit!"
Dr. Corbus threw the cordless telephone down so hard that it shattered against the edge of his desk and fell to the floor in two pieces as he turned to his computer. His fingers clattered for two seconds, then he hit a single button hard and growled, "That should stop them ...”
28
Two seconds after the elevator stopped, the doors slid open about eighteen inches, then jerked to a stop and moved no farther.
The lights in the elevator faded to black, with only the dim light from outside shining in through the opening between the doors.
None of them moved for a long moment. There was not even the sound of a breath.
"Why didn't they open all the way?" Ethan asked quietly.
"Because somebody stopped the fuckin' elevator," Ed growled. "Probably because they knew somebody was in it who wasn't supposed to be, which means the people down here probably know we're coming."
"Then how are we gonna go back up?" Lacey asked nervously.
"Either sprout wings or find some stairs," Ed replied. "Providing we're in any kind of shape to go back up."
"They don't necessarily know we got this far, right?" Shockley asked. "I mean, how do they know whether we got all the way down or we're stuck between floors? So, maybe, they're not expecting us down here after all. We might have a leg up on 'em."
Ed turned to him and nodded. "I like the way you think, fella. Now let's stop yammering and get these damned doors open. All you guys, c'mon."
"That means you, too, security person," Shockley said firmly, poking the man's back with the shotgun. "Otherwise, your organs're gonna be feeling a draft."
As Ethan, Ed, Doc, the cop, and the security man began to pull hard at the doors, trying to open them farther, Lacey began to feel cold with fear. She knew what would happen if they were caught. The people down here in the Dark Place would kill all of them ... quickly if they were lucky ... and very, very slowly if they were not ...
29
Dr. Corbus looked down at the broken cordless receiver on the floor by his feet and muttered, "Shit," then stood quickly, walked around his desk, and picked up the receiver of his telephone/fax machine.
He hit two buttons, waited, then said, "There are intruders in the elevator. I've stopped it, so they are trapped. Get to them and bring them to me. I still want you to stand by on red, and I want to hear of any developments, however small. I don't care if it's just a rat shitting in the pantry, I want to hear about it. Oh, and by the way ... you are in charge now. Your superior has been demoted." He slammed the receiver into its cradle and turned slowly to Deanna, who was still behind the desk. "I will take care of that son of a bitch later. In the meantime, I want to find out exactly who got this far down here, how, and why. Then we'll take care of them as well ...”
30
With some grunting from a couple of them, especially Ethan, the doors were pulled open. The men stepped back, a couple of them brushing their palms together as they exhaled loudly. Then, all six of them began to move out of the elevator and into the dimly lit corridor.
The security man tripped as he stepped out of the elevator, fell to the floor on his side, grunted, then began to groan.
"Shit!" he cried, drawing his right knee up and reaching for his ankle.
Shockley was familiar with the trick and leveled the shotgun with the man's chest.
"I hurt my damned ankle! the man shouted, his face twisted in a painful wince.
Shockley watched his hands.
The man's fingers began to claw at the hem of his pant leg, pulling it up as he continued to wince and groan in pain.
"You're making a mistake," Shockley said firmly. The bottom of the holster became visible, strapped to his calf, just above his ankle. Shockley waited.
The man wrapped his finger around the butt of the small pistol and jerked it from its holster.
Wrapping his finger around the trigger of his shotgun, Shockley muttered, "Like I said — "
There was a sharp snapping sound and a small hole appeared in the security man's temple. The man collapsed to the floor like a marionette that had just had its strings cut.
Shockley jerked his head to the right and saw Ed holding his Walther PPK with the silencer on the end, staring at him.
"How long you think we'd survive with the sound of a shotgun blast to announce our arrival; you asshole?" Ed asked quietly. "That's just what he wanted! From the look of it, he was pretty devoted to the people down here. It's not like he didn't know you had that battleship of a gun, right? And it looks like we're gonna have to go up against others like him ... willing t
o die for ... for whatever the hell this is."
Shockley stared at Ed for a long time as he lowered the shotgun slowly, then said, "Yeah. You're right. I'm sorry. So, now that I've admitted my mistake and apologized ... what exactly do you suggest we do?"
Ed grinned and said, "I don't have the foggiest fuckin' idea ...”
31
Just as Shockley had ordered, there were uniformed cops spread all over the grounds around the mansion and inside as well. Some of them were carrying flashlights, sending beams of light through the darkness, crisscrossing all around the grounds that surrounded the mansion.
There were more inside, searching every corridor and room of the mansion.
Out front, the three officers Shockley had chosen stood guard with their riot guns, watching the circular drive and the parking lot that sprouted from it very closely.
Patrol cars were parked everywhere, not only in the lot and along the sides of the circular drive, but all the way down the hill; they were parked on each side of the oak-lined path that led down to the gate.
So far, everything was going well. All of the officers were doing what they were told to do. No one had protested. No one had tried to leave.
But all of that was before the gunfire started ...
32
Dr. Corbus was pacing behind the telephone/fax machine, waiting for it to ring.
Deanna sat in his chair behind the desk, watching him as she chewed on her nails nervously.
The telephone rang.
Dr. Corbus spun to face Deanna with his jaw jutting. He clenched a fist as he barked, "You see! They've found them!" He punched the speaker button on the telephone/fax machine and snapped, "Yes?"
The male voice that responded was reluctant. "The, um, the tunnel gate seems to be open. There are, uh ... there are a lot of police officers roaming around in front of the shack. And it appears that ...” The voice sounded so afraid that it could hardly continue, as if the man's mouth had been stuffed with feathers. " ... that the door of the shack is open. Wuh-wide."
Dr. Corbus stared down at the telephone/fax machine, as if that piece of machinery itself had offended him greatly.
"What ... did you ... say?" Dr. Corbus breathed into the mouthpiece.
"They're all over the place," the man replied, unable to conceal the fear in his voice. "And they're closing in. On the shack. All of them. Heading toward here like ... like maybe they, uh, suspect something."
"Yes," Corbus said, his voice sounding as if he were being strangled. "Yes, yes, I understand."
He bowed his head and pressed his eyes with thumb and forefinger, standing still as a statue for a long time.
"Go through with the red!" he blurted suddenly.
"The red? Did I hear that correctly?"
"Yes, you stupid asshole, go through with the red! Throw the main switch to unlock the doors to all the children's rooms. Do it now."
He rushed to the telephone/fax machine and punched his thumb down on a button hard, cutting the connection. Then he looked at Deanna, staring at her for a long moment.
"This is it," he said quietly, almost reverently, standing stiff and straight, as if at attention. The fingertips of his right hand touched the beeper on his belt, stroked it, caressed it. "All the children must be killed. Immediately ...”
33
Throughout the complex, on all four floors, the naked men in their black leather hoods hurried to the narrow doors of what appeared to be utility closets at each end of each corridor. Beside each narrow door was a small panel that looked like a TV remote control. The doors were opened by a combination, each one different. And each man knew which buttons to punch. They did so quickly.
As the doors opened, the overhead light came on inside the closets.
The men stepped inside and each of them began to pluck MP-5 submachine pistols from the shelves inside. They hurried away from the closet one at a time, reaching up with a thumb to switch to single shot as they spread out, each of them knowing what sections of the complex they were to cover, which rooms they were to enter, and which children they were to kill ... all of them.
34
"I think I know where we are," Lacey said quietly, looking from right to left, back and forth. They were in a narrow passageway about twelve feet long that appeared to connect two corridors.
"You sure?" Ed asked.
"I said I think I know. I'm not sure. I'm starting to think this place is bigger than I thought, with a lot more floors, too. I didn't even know it was underground when I was here."
"Do you know where Samuel is?" Ethan whispered.
Before she could answer, they heard footsteps hurrying toward them along the flanking corridors.
Ed gestured toward the open elevator with his gun and they disappeared into it, leaving only the dead security man sprawled on the floor behind them. Then, they waited.
The sound of hurried movement grew louder outside the elevator on each side. There was no talking, no whispering ... not even any footsteps. Until a voice whispered something.
The footsteps continued, but so did the voice. Another voice replied.
The whispers grew closer.
Ed turned to Doc and made a curt gesture with his hand.
Doc replaced the Coonan in its holster under his left arm, reached under his coat with his left hand, and removed a Walther PPK with a silencer, just like Ed's.
Two men appeared before the open doors of the elevator and leaned over the dead body as they talked to each other in hushed tones. Each held a machine pistol in his right hand.
Ed raised his left hand and made a curt gesture with the first two fingers. Doc nodded agreement. They stepped forward until they were standing in the elevator opening and aimed their guns low.
One of the men glanced over his shoulder and saw them. He started to stand, to alert the other man to their presence.
Ed and Doc fired three times each.
The bare, muscular legs of the two leather-masked men flowered in dark red bullet wounds above the knees and they dropped to the floor with withering grunts, splaying their arms and dropping their guns. One of the men fell forward and hit his head against the wall hard, groaning as he squirmed slowly on the floor.
Ed held up a palm to the others in the elevator, telling them silently to stay put, then made another hand gesture at Doc. They hurried from the elevator, slipping their guns beneath their suit-coats as they leaned forward to sweep the machine pistols off the floor.
Without uttering a sound, they dragged the two men into the elevator: Ed with his arms hooked under the shoulders of one, Doc dragging the other by his ankles, both leaving tracks of blood behind them. Once in the elevator, they pointed the machine pistols at the head of each man as they straddled each one on their knees.
"One sound and you die," Ed whispered. "Both of you. Now, see this guy here?" He jerked his head toward Shockley. "He's a cop. You people are in deep shit. The party's over, friends. Everybody outta the fuckin' pool. You understand me?"
The man nodded his leather-clad head.
The other man — the one who had slammed his head against the wall when he fell — groaned again and again, moving his arms weakly.
"I want you to talk. Quietly. Answer all my questions. Got me?"
Another nod.
"Who's in charge?"
The man answered slowly, teeth grinding together in pain. "Doc ... Doc-tor Corbus."
"Where is Dr. Corbus?"
"Here. This level."
"This is the bottom level?"
"Yuh-yeah."
"And this Dr. Corbus is here?"
He nodded.
"Where?"
"I duh-duh ... dunno. His quarters ... they're secret." The other man continued groaning, but his groans began to form words.
Both of them bled from their wounds all over the elevator's carpet.
"What was all the commotion out there? What's going on?"
"It's a red."
"A red what? What's a red? Talk
to me."
"Emergency ... procedure. The children ... all of them ... they're to be killed."
"Suhhmbitch," the other man groaned.
Ethan made a throaty, gurgling sound as he slapped his hand over his mouth. "God, dear lord, no," he garbled into his palm.
That was when the shooting began. Loud, sharp cracking sounds in the corridors that flanked them, muffled but distinct.
The children were being killed ...
35
Samuel was used to opening his eyes and seeing odd and frightening things around him or hovering over him. It happened all the time. Constantly. That was why he'd been unable to get much sleep since he'd been brought to this place.
He hadn't eaten much, either. He was so weak, he could hardly move his arms or legs, and his stomach felt like a gaping hole that had been dug with a dull trowel. He'd had a throbbing headache forever; it was there when he closed his eyes and there when he opened them.
And when he opened them this time, he saw something new.
The door of his room was cracked open a few inches and a bar of light from the corridor outside spilled over the floor and onto Samuel's bed, light that, to his sensitive eyes, was blinding and only made his head hurt worse.
But the light wasn't so bright that Samuel could not see, through squinting eyes, the naked, leather-hooded man standing at the foot of the bed with a gun.
The boy did not even blink. In this place, nothing surprised him anymore ...
36
In the elevator, Ed placed the short barrel of the machine pistol beneath the man's nose and pressed upward hard. "Is Samuel Walker on this floor? Little black boy? Is he here?"
The man nodded.
Ed spoke very quickly. "You shittin' me? If you're shittin' me, you're gonna die bad. Why the hell would he just happen to be on this floor, and talk fuckin' fast."