Demon's Well

by E. R. Mason

  Jax cast a warning look at Remy in the rear view.

  Remy persisted. “You keeping big secrets, or am I wrong, Skyla?”

  Skyla seemed unperturbed. She leaned back against the door to better see Remy in the back seat. “I’m an orphan, actually. I ran away from foster care quite a few years ago. Foster care didn’t seem to care at all. I believe they felt threatened by me. My uncle sends me monthly support, enough to get by on. He’s on travel continuously so I can’t stay with him, but he takes good care of me. So I guess you could say I do have some secrets.”

  “But you just graduated. How could you get through that without parents?” asked Remy.

  “Really good notes from home and excuses, and an expertise at signing fake parents’ names to documentation.”

  “Wow!” said Remy. “You mean you live alone or something?”

  “My Uncle leaves his Sundancer boat here for me to use when I need to. The agreement is I don’t bring any guys there. Sometimes when he visits he needs the boat when relatives come so I have to rent a room nearby for a few days. If anybody ever found out about this stuff I would’ve been in real danger from Child Services. But now that we’ve graduated, I’m pretty safe.”

  Remy seemed taken aback. He sat back in his seat and tried to sort things out. Suddenly he felt both sympathy and respect for Skyla. He did not have a comeback.

  “And now you’re writing a book,” said Jax to break the impasse.

  “Something like that, that is if you can get me bolt cutters.”

  “You could have already told me all that stuff and I would have helped you and I’d never tell anyone,” said Jax.

  “I know, but it takes time to trust.”

  Remy switched back on. “Hey Sky, I’ve got one of the new iPhones but I’ve never seen a mobile phone like yours and I’m pretty much an expert on ‘em. Can I look at it?”

  “Sorry buddy. I’ve got too much personal stuff in it. Nobody gets their hands on my phone.”

  “What if it breaks down on you? You might need me to fix it.”

  “It has my diary in it, Rem. Nobody gets to see my diary.”

  “Okay, I can understand that much.”

  They dropped Remy off first, exchanged exasperated goodbyes, and for the first time, Jax headed for a marina to drop off Skyla.

  At the waterfront, Skyla opened the door to leave, but hesitated to cast Jax a coy stare. “Text me when you find a bolt cutter.”

  “You are really set on this, aren’t you?”

  “Remind Remy about my pictures, would you?”

  “I’ll see you Thursday then.”

  “I hope so,” replied Skyla and once again Jax wondered what she meant.

  Skyla walked through the gated marina entrance and out onto the third pier. Halfway down she turned and waved to Jax, then stepped aboard a very expensive-looking cruiser. Jax pulled his mobile phone out to check the time; 5:15, just enough time to pick his Mom up from work. He pulled out, took another quick look back in the rear view, and continued on.

  Finally back at home after meeting his Mom, Jax climbed the stairs to his bedroom and flopped down on the bed. His mobile phone rang. It was Remy.

  “Yeah, Rem?”

  “Weird, Jax. Really weird.”

  “What is?”

  “Remember yesterday I told you my watch died?”

  “Yeah?”

  “So today I took an old pocket watch. I stuffed it into my laptop case. Guess what?”

  “Too tired to guess, Rem.”

  “Same thing. My freaking pocket watch lost 3 hours. That can’t be a coincidence. Two watches losing time almost the same way? Figure that out.”

  Jax thought for a moment. “You know, yesterday my wristwatch was slow when I got home. I had to reset it. I left it on my dresser this morning.”

  “Okay, bro. That’s three. Three watches that lost time in the past two days. Mine are both running okay now. I bet yours is too.”

  Jax leaned up and grabbed his wrist watch from the dresser top. “Damn, it’s running on time right now. What are you saying, Rem?”

  “I’m thinking there’s some kind of magnetic field around that old house that screws up electrical and mechanical devices, like some big iron core deposit, or even radioactivity or something.”

  “Wait a minute, my mobile phone kept the right time. There wasn’t any trouble with that.”

  “Yeah, but mobile phones update themselves as soon as they have a signal. If there’s a problem, they correct it automatically. The thing has my head spinning. After we got back I started thinking it was way earlier than it should be because of that damn pocket watch. It’s got me psyched out. ”

  “Okay, three screwed up watches. That is weird, then,” said Jax.

  “Weird,” agreed Remy. “You still going out there again with her?”

  “Yeah man, got to see what’s behind door number 3. Are you dropping out on us?”

  “No way, next time I’m bringing every timepiece I got out there to see what happens.”

  “I’m just bringing myself to see what happens.”

  “You sure she’s worth it?”

  “What do you think?”

  “She owes me a steak dinner.”

  Chapter 4

  Jax lay on his bed hammering away at the Diamond Maze game on his mobile phone while wondering how he should use his free Wednesday. A quick phone call had confirmed that the job at the golf course had already been filled. There were no other potential openings in the paper or online. He glanced over at the rusty bolt cutters on his dresser, a lucky find in the family’s old toolbox, probably an ancient item from his Dad’s tools. Those cutters meant one free ticket to call Skyla but he would need to make that call strategically. If he did not catch her at home he might end up with her messaging service and miss his chance to talk to her. He’d be forced to leave a message and any subsequent calls might make him look too anxious.

  Being without car did not maroon him completely. There was the bike. The unscrupulous idea of pedaling to the marina and spying on her kept creeping into his thoughts. It would be a long pedal, but it was doable. Still, it was an inappropriate invasion that was not without risk. If Skyla happened to spot him near the marina she would know it was not by chance.

  The mystery surrounding Skyla combined with Jax’s irrepressible curiosity was too much. He jumped up and went down to the utility room. He wrestled the bike from its bungee holders and pushed it out the front door. The late morning sun blinded him for a moment so that he had to stop and shield his eyes. Then it was off.

  At the first crossroads his doubts began to resurface. He glided over to a playground parking area and sat staring at the dedication plaque.

  Somerset Playground

  On this site the former Somerset Academy

  was bombed on March, 22, 1942 in a daylight bombing

  raid by Hitler’s Luftwaffe. Lost that day

  12 junior grade students and their teacher, Mrs. Ann

  Roberts. Lost but never to be forgotten.

  Jax sat trying to envision the burned out rumble of a school but the lush grass and colorful playground decorations were too colorful. He shook his head at the thought of what it must have been like back then. Finally, once again curiosity and infatuation overcame good conscience and Jax pushed on.

  It was an easy ride with many shortcuts across private drives and occasional alleyways. But, it was long. One and a half hours later, Jax slowed as the smell of salt air strengthened and glimpses of the River Thames began to appear ahead. Cautiously, Jax worked his way around to a spot where he was overlooking Skyla’s marina. It took a moment to spot her exact slip. The boat was drifting gently on its mooring lines. There was no sign of activity. Curtains in the lower decks were open but there was no sign of life anywhere.

  A tiny bit of alarm set in. If she was not on the boat that meant she could be nearby, in a café, or shop, or walking. Suddenly the prospect of being found out had become much too likely.
Jax quickly swung the bike around and headed back the way he had come. Perhaps she had already spotted him and he just didn’t know it. Jax pedaled faster.

  The ride back became a bit more grueling than the ride out. Winded, Jax cruised by Remy’s place. No one was home. Remy was away searching the gamer shops for a new copy of Soldier’s Eye. Jax reached home in time to put the bike away and go up to his bedroom before his Mom drove in from her appointments. As he lay back on the bed wondering about his future, she called out.

  “Jax, are you here?”

  “Upstairs, Mom.”

  “Dinner will be ready in 30. Are you hungry?”

  Before Jax could answer, his mobile phone chimed. A quick look showed it to be Skyla. He fumbled and nearly dropped it, but finally managed to answer.

  “Hey!”

  “How come you didn’t call me today?”

  “I was going to. I just didn’t want to interrupt you with your Uncle.”

  “Oh, well . . . that’s nice of you, then. Did you find us the cable cutter thing?”

  “I am looking at it right this moment on my dresser.”

  “Great. Then tomorrow is still go?”

  “I’m ready. I haven’t talked to Remy.”

  “He’ll be there. I owe him a dinner. What’d you do today?”

  “Hung out mostly. How was your Uncle’s visit?”

  “It was fine.”

  “He must be a very unusual person to let you be on your own like you have been.”

  “My Uncle is very progressive.”

  “Since I can’t come to the boat, maybe you could come here to my place sometime and we could just hang and talk.”

  “That might be fun. Oh, I have to go. I’ll pick you up tomorrow at 9:00 A.M., okay?”

  “Looking forward to it.”

  “Me too. Bye.”

  Thursday morning was crisp, cool, and clear. The three adventurers squeezed into the backseat of the taxi. Skyla gave the driver her well-planned instructions. Jax stared through the windows at the flat green countryside passing by. Skyla became quiet and seemed concerned about something. Remy fussed with his backpack and the six assorted timepieces he had elected to bring along.

  The driver looked back at them through the rearview. “This is quite a haul, Ma’am. You know what this fare will be like?”

  “It’s fine, driver. Just be sure to pick us up later.”

  “What are you kids up to way out here?”

  “We’re photographing an old house for a book I’m working on.”

  “You mean like a ghost story or somethin’?”

  “Something like that.”

  Remy snapped his head up. “I’m not with them,” he said. “I’m just here for a steak dinner.”

  The driver laughed.

  “Actually he’s the comic relief,” said Jax.

  “What’s the deal with no breakfast this morning?” continued Remy.

  “We needed to get an early start,” said Skyla matter-of-factly.

  As they pulled into the Demon House drive, the mood turned somber and apprehensive. The driver stopped at the front door and looked back without speaking. The trio exited out both sides, with Skyla going to the driver’s window to hand him a card. A quick swipe later he returned it, gave a four finger wave, and headed back out.

  The group stood silently staring at the mansion.

  “We’re getting too loose about this, don’t you think?” said Jax.

  “I thought that the first time,” replied Remy.

  “The place is deserted as usual,” insisted Skyla. “If anyone shows up, we’ll take cover in the woods and wait till they leave.”

  “Can you afford bail for all of us?” asked Remy.

  Skyla ignored him. “Let’s use the side door again. We’ll leave it unlocked for a quick exit.”

  They made their way into the portico but when Skyla had found the proper door key she stopped. “Gee, we’ll need to fix this door where you cracked the wood breaking in with your screwdriver. Can you do that?” She looked at Jax hopefully.

  Jax squinted in surprise. “I don’t get it! Last time it looked like it had been completely fixed already. That is weird.”

  “See . . .?” said Remy, and he looked at the others for approval. Again they ignored him.

  Inside, Demon House seemed unchanged. They made their way to the main dining room adjoining the kitchen where Remy wiped the dust off a section of table, plunked his pack down on it and removed his laptop. “So I stay here and watch out the windows again, right?”

  Jax answered, “Yeah, but if anybody shows up you’ll have to come down to tell us. We’ll be too far away for you to call out.”

  Remy glanced down at his mobile phone. “Hey, I do have a signal! You can be sure I’ll try that first,” he said.

  Jax hoisted his own pack higher on his shoulder and looked to Skyla for direction. She nodded and headed for the kitchen.

  The basement door was still slightly ajar. Downstairs the air was just as cool and stale. They crossed through the shadows in the moldy, dirt-covered storeroom and into the shop area. On the right, the locked door to the unexplored room waited. Jax went to it, dropped his pack and drew out the bolt cutters.

  “This really is breaking and entering,” he reminded Skyla.

  Skyla held her light on the large, rusty lock securing the door. “There’s no turning back now,” she said impatiently.

  Jax clipped his own light to his belt, held the bolt cutters in both hands and positioned them on the lock. At first it seemed as though the cutters were not big enough, but after adding one hip to the pull, the lock finally snapped and fell broken to the floor. Skyla gave a yelp of approval.

  The wooden door had to be coaxed open. At one point it took both of them pulling to get it past something blocking its path. When it was finally open enough for passage, Skyla quickly stuck her light into the new area and gasped with curiosity as she swept the beam around.

  Jax followed her slow entrance. The room was the size of a two-car garage, most of it open. But in the center was a very peculiar object. At first it looked like a dried-up, out of place fountain of some sort but closer examination proved it to be something quite different. A circle of ankle-high red brick encompassed a great, rough-hewn hole in the floor. A rusty chain-hoist had been constructed above it. The hole was big enough that a compact car would have fit in. Jax leaned against Skyla as they stared at the black abyss below.

  “Is it a mineshaft or a well?” asked Jax.

  “Or has it been both at some time or other,” replied Skyla.

  “It wasn’t uncommon to have a well in your basement in the old days. That is if you could afford it.”

  “Some of the equipment hanging on the walls is old miner’s gear,” said Skyla.

  “How deep could it be?” asked Jax and together the two of them leaned over the side of the hole and peered over with their lights pointed downward.

  “Holy crap. That is really strange,” said Jax half under his breath.

  The beams of light had revealed a fluorescent green fog or mist 20 or 30 feet down, turning like a slow whirlpool. “It’s an inversion layer. The air down below is warmer than the air above so there’s fog. And the air currents flowing down into the well are making the mist swirl like that. It’s kind of beautiful.”

  “Why is it greenish-looking?”

  “That has to be phosphorescents. It must be from the rock down there.”

  “Wanna bet Remy won’t like it?” remarked Jax.

  Skyla moved her light to search the ragged rock walls. She stopped suddenly and gasped. Mounted on the side opposite them was a makeshift wooden ladder descending into the fog.

  “People have been down into it,” said Skyla. “It has to be they were mining for something.”

  “You’re not thinking of . . .”

  “The ladder still looks safe. If we had good safety lines there wouldn’t be any danger.”

  “You are really thinking of. . .�
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  “Don’t you wonder what’s down there? What they were doing down there?”

  “I would be thinking about that except good sense keeps getting in the way.”

  Skyla put her hands on her hips and narrowed her stare.

  “I asked Remy to research this place on the web. Let’s get him down here. Maybe he knows something.” Jax reached for his mobile phone, looked at it and cursed under his breath. “No service. I knew it. I’ll go get him. You want to come or stay here alone?”

  “I’ll look around some more.”

  “Okay. I’ll hurry.” Jax paused at the worn door to look back at Skyla who was already searching the rest of the well room. He hurried along, up the stairs, and found Remy sitting on a stool at the big table in the dining room, staring down at his laptop.

  Remy jerked his head up at the sound of Jax entering. “Man, you are not going to believe this,” declared Remy.

  “I may be able to top whatever you have,” replied Jax as he came up beside his friend.

  Remy pointed at the screen. “Look at this photo. Take a real good look.”

  Jax focused but did not see anything out of the ordinary. “Yeah, so? It’s a picture looking into the next room through those open double doors over there.”

  Remy’s head began to nod repeatedly. He tapped the screen with his finger. “She took this picture from approximately where we are right now and as you said you can see into the next room over there.”

  “Yeah, so what’s the big deal?”

  “Well for one thing, in the picture you see the corner of this flower-print sofa in that next room.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Well look!” Remy looked up and pointed at the open doors to the adjoining room. “There’s no sofa at all in there!”

  Jax stared in confusion at the adjoining room. “Maybe somebody’s cleaning the place out for sale or something. We saw that car turn down the road toward here.”

  “You think?” Remy stood. “Come with me oh great doubter.” He led Jax into the adjacent room. “It’s a whole different set of furniture in here! And look at this end table.” Remy leaned over and wrote his name in the dust on the table. “So you think maybe somebody came in here yesterday, took out all the furniture, brought in this different stuff, and then overnight all this dust collected on everything?”