by Kirk Dougal
“You can’t be serious. After—”
“It’s okay.” Tar cut off his friend’s protests. “We’ll be fine.” He turned to Marybelle. “Thank you.”
The young woman drew her eyebrows together and looked at them a long moment, then turned. “I’ll be back as soon as it’s safe,” she said over her shoulder. “Don’t make any noise.”
The door shut and the click of the lock echoed in the basement.
“Are you fragged?” hissed Toby. “What about the other fixers? How are we supposed to find them locked in a basement?”
“We’ll find them. We’ve got to, so we can warn ‘em about Ludler and people like this.” Tar pointed at Toby’s jacket, at where he thought he saw Toby stow something. “Did you grab my flashlight in Mother’s office?”
Toby reached in his pocket and handed over the light. Tar turned it on. The basement stretched in both directions. He stepped down off the landing and headed left, making his way toward the far wall.
Toby was on his heels. “What are we doing?”
“Looking for a way out.”
“I thought you’d given up.”
Tar stopped and shook his head. “Not even a little. I realized today how important it is for us to find the others. They might be dead like Scooter, or caught by the Black Shirts, but they might also be trapped like we are, kept in one place by people who want to use them because of what they can do.” He turned and headed toward the wall again. “That ain’t right.”
“Chilly,” Toby said. “Do you think there’s a door down here? Like back at the apartments?”
“Probably not,” Tar answered. “This house is too old, unless they added a tech door later. No, I’m remembering one of Mr. Keisler’s books. It was about this brother and sister who were in a big old scary house and they used to go up and down in this little wooden box called a dumb waiter and it went from floor to floor. I’m looking for something like that.”
“Uh, all right. A dumb waiter. So why this wall?”
“When we stopped at the doorway I noticed the next room was a kitchen.”
They searched the next few minutes without luck, but as they were about to give up Tar peered at a cupboard built into the wall. When he went with his intuition and opened the door. He was rewarded by a small room beyond.
“Coal room,” Toby said. “My dad showed me one at the water plant. They kept it open so people could see how they used to heat the building a long time ago.” He shined the light left and the beam showed a huge metal box, squat and black in the gloom. “That must be the furnace. So that means the chute would be…over here.” He swung the light around to the right. Near the top of the room was a small angled piece of metal, suspended from the ceiling and attached at the wall just below a metal door. “There’s where they used to shovel the coal inside from the truck.”
They swung their legs through the opening and scrambled inside the room. Tar pulled the door shut, making sure not the bang it against the frame. By the time he turned back Toby was standing by the chute and shaking his head.
“It’s locked,” he said. “I pushed against the door and it didn’t budge.”
Tar walked over and put his hand on the metal. Nothing happened. “It’s not tech,” he said.
“Now what? I don’t think we can bust out without making a lot of noise.”
Tar walked to the middle of the room and looked around. For the first time he noticed there was an identical door to the one he and Toby had crawled through, sitting about thigh-high off the floor on the opposite wall, except it had a metal latch on the inside. He went over, lifted the metal bar, and pushed gently. It opened up into another dark room.
“What is it?” Toby asked.
“I think it’s where they might keep food.”
Rows of stout, floor-to-ceiling shelves lined from one end of the room to the other. Glass jars on the shelves were filled with food.
“Blech! Carrots,” Toby said.
“You’d eat them if you were hungry enough,” Tar chuckled, then gasped as Toby began taking jars and putting them in his backpack. “What’re you doing?”
“Do you think we’re always going to find the Moenes willing to feed us?”
Tar frowned at his friend for several seconds. “Okay, but just enough to get us by in an emergency.”
He walked away as Toby wrapped four jars in his extra clothes and put them in his pack. After about minute he found what he was searching for: a stairway leading up, tucked in one corner. Toby shuffled up behind him.
“Ready?” Tar asked.
Toby nodded and he crept up the stairs, testing each step for squeaks and creaks before putting his weight down. Once he reached the top he switched off his light and waited for his friend to do the same. The basement fell into darkness and he slowly turned the doorknob. The door eased open with a slight groan. To Tar, however, it sounded like wind howling through the trees and animals roaring. He froze.
Voices carried through the opening. Not loud enough to understand what was being said but close enough to make Tar sweat. He wanted to back up and ease the door shut. He wanted to find the darkest hole in the basement and hide in its shadowy embrace until the Black Shirts went away. He wanted to tell Toby to go on without him.
He did none of those things. No matter how frightened he was he had to show some guts. Toby had refused to consider going on without him. If he hid in the basement, his friend would, too. That would only keep them both in danger.
Tar eased the door open farther and squeezed through the gap. From the stray light entering the room through another doorway he could see he was in the kitchen they had passed earlier.
They moved forward, Tar leading the way, Toby in step with him, each hunched over in the near-dark.
Tar sucked in a breath when he felt his friend tug on his backpack and he wondered who had caught them trying to escape, the Winchesters or the men searching for them.
It was neither. When he turned his friend was pointing straight up. Embedded into the ceiling was a glass-paned door, the same one they had seen earlier in the blue room. Toby shook his head in disbelief and grinned from ear to ear.
A rising voice in the next room made them spin to face the doorway.
“…where they are or we’ll pull some of those relics out of the cases and see if they still work,” a man’s rough voice grated each word. Then Tar heard the sharp sound of skin striking skin. The next time the man spoke his voice was softer and muffled. Tar decided he must have moved away from the door. Now was their best opportunity to get past.
He crept forward. His legs ached with the effort, not of tiptoeing through the kitchen but from the effort of moving his feet while paralyzing fear gripped every one of his muscles. Tar saw the doorway on the far side of the room, its frame slowly taking shape in the dark. Through it, and another few steps beyond, was a door with pale moonlight glowing through its glass.
He took another step, stopped, only the ball of his left foot on the ground. His head swiveled, almost on its own. He could see through into the next room, and within his narrow view, he saw three people lined against the far wall.
One of them was Marybelle.
And she was staring straight at him.
Slowly, inch by straining inch, she tilted her head left, toward the doorway he had already spotted. At first he was not sure if she was telling him the way to go or if it was meant as a warning.
But then she smiled.
Tar never looked back as he crept forward again. This time he did not stop until he had crossed through the tiny mudroom to stand beside the exterior door. He peeked through the lowest row of glass. No one was in sight and a moment later he and Toby stood on the grass outside.
“Which way?” Tar asked.
“The gate’s the closest,” Toby answered.
Tar nodded, but then changed his mind.
“No. Someone saw us at the gate. Marybelle said that was how they fou
nd us.” He hesitated as he glanced around the area. “Follow me.”
Tar led them on a twisting, house-hugging route through the shadows. When they reached the west side of the house he looked both ways, then ran to the nearest tree. Toby followed and that was the way they moved—tree, shadow, wait; tree, shadow, wait—until they were at the back of the property, the chain link fence a stark crisscross shape beneath the moon.
“There’s no gate,” Toby whispered. “We’re trapped.”
“We’re not going through the fence, we’re going over.”
The next shadow was larger and darker than the rest. About fifteen trees stood together, close to the fence, making their own little forest. He let his hand drop down to the top of a gravestone. “Sorry, Scooter. And thanks.”
He put his foot on the rough hewn side of the granite marker, then put his other foot on top of it. He was four feet taller now and could reach the bottom limb of the nearest tree. Tar got a good grip and began going hand-over-hand until he could swing his feet to the top of the fence. He was careful of the barbed wire around the top but still snagged his jeans and ripped a hole in the leg but then, after a few more seconds, he dropped to the outside sidewalk.
Tar watched the street as Toby made his way over the fence as well. His friend was stronger and moved faster, but also a lot bigger and heavier. The tree branch swayed and leaves rattled as he moved. Thankfully no one came to investigate the noise. Toby dropped beside him.
Tar let out a breath. They had escaped the people of the Winchester House. They were free again. For now.
Chapter 26
Tar led Toby north, away from the highway and the Winchester House. They only made it a block before they saw the first Black Shirts patrol. Jingling bridles and the clop of hooves on the street announced the men and Tar and Toby dashed into the nearest alley. Tar slipped in some gunk and nearly fell but Toby righted him and they pressed into the shadows.
The men rode by slowly. One of the Black Shirts looked their way as the patrol went by but the deeper night of the alley kept them hidden. The riders moved out of sight and Tar finally took a breath, not realizing he’d been holding it.
“What are we going to do?” Toby whispered as the sounds of the riders faded. “Changed your mind yet?”
Tar never took his eyes off the street. “We’re going to find the next name on the list.”
“Okay. Who is it?”
Tar opened his mouth to answer, but then slammed it shut. He was silent for nearly a minute before he spoke again. “I…I don’t know. It was a girl but I don’t remember her name.”
“Check the app.”
Tar shook his head, not sure if his friend could see him in the dark. “Not yet. She lives in Santa Clara. Let’s get to the car first.” He checked the street again. “Come on. They’re gone.”
Tar stepped out and kept going north. He never looked back to see if his friend had followed him, in fact, he never even questioned that he did.
They went two more blocks and Tar was considering turning east to circle back to the car when they heard horses again. This time there was no alley, but a low retaining wall with bushes provided the shadow they needed. Once again they lay still, waiting for the sounds to drift down the street.
“Owww!” hissed Toby.
“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” They weren’t very far away from the car but it would seem like a long way if his friend had twisted an ankle.
“No, not really. It’s just that when I dived back here I landed on a stick and now it’s digging into my back.”
“Serves you right for all that snoring you were doing earlier. I didn’t think I was ever going to get any sleep.”
“Sorry,” Toby said. “I guess I was tired. How long do you think we were sleeping?”
“I don’t know. Three, four hours maybe.” Tar suddenly realized his friend’s point. “Yeah we’ve probably only got a couple more hours before it starts getting light out. We better get moving.”
The boys crawled out from their hiding spot and brushed the dirt and bristles off of their clothes. Then Tar led the way down the street, hugging the buildings as they moved.
“You ever been to Santa Clara?” he said over his shoulder to Toby.
“No. You?”
“You know Uncle Jahn never took me anywhere.” Tar stopped at the next corner and waited, eyeing the street in both directions. When he was sure it was deserted he crossed the open space with Toby on his heels. They crouched down in the shadowed doorway of the next building.
“We’re almost to the car. We left it on Olsen Street,” Tar said. “I say we go straight north toward Santa Clara on the main street.”
“Why not go back to Junipero? I’ll bet there’s signs on the highway pointing to Santa Clara.”
Tar nodded. “Probably so. But to get to Junipero we’d have to drive right past Winchester House. You want to try to get past the Black Shirts that way?”
Toby sighed. “You’re right. But we’ll be grepping along the whole way.”
The boys stood and headed down the street. As they neared the last corner to the car they saw an orange glow reflecting off the opposite buildings.
“What is that?” Toby asked.
“I don’t know. We’ll get a better look when we cross the street. I think I see the car.”
They were halfway across when they heard the dreaded noise of hooves on pavement.
“Hey! You there!” Riders came at them from down the street.
Tar and Toby sprinted the remaining few yards to the car. Toby hopped on one foot the last few strides, trying to pull the keys from his pocket without slowing too much. Then Tar saw the cause of the orange glow.
Winchester House was on fire.
Greedy orange fingers wiggled toward the stars, grasping the air and sending up black smoke that clouded the night sky. From almost a block away he felt traces of heat roiling off the building in waves, the smell of burning wood on the breeze. Tar thought he heard screams within the roar of the flames. He did not want to think about Ludler’s fury when the man realized they had slipped free of him again.
“Come on!”
Toby’s yell snapped him out of his trance. He turned and yanked his door open as three Black Shirts spurred their horses toward him. An angry orange glow reflected off the bald head of the middle rider and Tar’s stomach lurched.
Toby whipped the car into reverse as Tar slammed his door shut. The back end of the car wobbled back and forth, tires screaming into the night until they caught hold and threw the vehicle forward.
Tar leaned in his seat so he could look back at the riders. The leader was almost within reach of the car. “GO!” he yelled at Toby.
Whatever small space remained between the pedal and the floor vanished as his friend pressed his foot to the floorboard. The car shot away and Tar watched Ludler make a futile grasp for the vehicle, snatching only air, then lurch sideways in his saddle. The hungry flames made a fearsome shadow of the man as he reined in and watched them go.
Tar let out a slow breath but he knew he was destined to see Ludler again. The hunt was far from over.
Chapter 27
A yellow light flashed on the car’s dashboard readout.
“We’re fragged.” Toby said.
“What is it?”
Toby was quiet as he weaved in between cars parked along the side of the street. “We’re low on juice.”
They rode in silence for another five minutes before the yellow light turned red.
“We need to find some place to park,” Toby said. “We don’t want them to know we’re on foot and where we started walking.”
He slowed the vehicle, coasting when he could.
After a few minutes Tar spotted what they were looking for. “Look on the right. There’s a place with a whole bunch of cars. Let’s hide it in there.”
Toby turned where Tar indicated and found an empty spot near the middle of the
parking lot. Out of sight of the street he pushed the metal bar all the way forward and turned off the key, casting them in darkness.
“We’re not all that far away,” Tar said.
“If they don’t see the car they’ll think we kept going. That’s what I’d think.”
“Even so, I want to get some place safe.” Tar pulled Jahn’s app out of his backpack and pressed the on button. The screen lit up but in the upper corner of the screen, a cylinder with one red bar blinked at him the same way the car had flashed earlier. “Oh, no. Mother left it on. The batteries are almost dead!”
“Wonderful. What now?”
Tar touched the file marker on the screen. It was a race as the app tried to show him the name before it ran out of juice. “Nataly Pierinski, 304 Stardust…” The screen winked off, and the car went dark again. “That’s it,” Tar said. “At least until we can find a battery that fits.”
The boys got out. Toby locked the doors, put the keys in his pocket, and slung his backpack over his shoulders. “Which way?”
Tar turned in a slow circle but it was all for show. He had no idea which direction to go to find Stardust. “I don’t know. I don’t like being this close to Winchester Street. Let’s get off on the side. Maybe we can ask someone for directions later.”
“Chilly,” Toby said with a wave of his hand. “Lead on.”
They cut across the lot and headed east a few blocks before turning north, walking along the low-lit, quiet streets. The first glow of morning rose over the buildings to the east, announcing the start of a new day, so they settled underneath the overhang of a deserted storefront and ate the last of Jahn’s food. Toby hunkered against the wall and dozed while they waited for the streets to get busy. Tar was tired, too, but his mind was racing so he looked out on the lightening city and listened for the sounds of horses.
Cars began to motor by, more than he had ever seen on one day in his life, and he wondered how so many people in Santa Clara could afford the gasoline to run them. He wondered how they would find Nataly Pierinski if they could not find Stardust. He wondered if she was even still at that address. He wondered, too, if she was free or held captive, forced to fix bricks.