Cragbridge Hall, Book 1: The Inventor's Secret Hardcover

by Chad Morris

  Abby walked past the cafeteria but couldn’t find any other framed pictures. She retraced her steps and turned down a hall going the other direction.

  There was a painting of Joan of Arc engaged in battle despite her wounds. The pictures were leading Abby somewhere. She passed a smaller hallway as she continued her search, but when she found no more matched paintings, she backtracked.

  The hallway she walked back to was empty. It had shorter ceilings, and no classrooms, just storage closets. It was probably for the janitors. More importantly, it had no paintings. It ended in a brick wall.

  Abby stared at the brick—a dead end. Maybe there was another picture before the Civil War painting. Abby ran back where she started, but couldn’t find anything. Before allowing herself to get too frustrated, she ran back to the Bridge to get Derick and Carol to help.

  Within a few minutes, she, Derick, and Carol searched the halls for the fifth painting.

  “The other one has to be here close by, doesn’t it?” Abby asked. “Or is this all a coincidence?”

  “I really think you’re onto something,” Derick said. “We just have to keep looking.”

  “What’s missing?” Carol asked.

  “The Endurance,” Abby said. “And based on Grandpa’s message, that painting seems to be the key.”

  After ten minutes of searching without success, they regrouped. “Alright,” Abby led off. “We’re missing something.”

  She thought it out as best she could. “The paintings have been evenly spaced, so the next one should either be down the large hall, or at the dead end brick wall.”

  Knowing that it all had to do with a secret, Abby guessed that the next clue would be in the smaller hallway where no one ever went.

  She walked down the small hall, looking at the molding along the edge of the floor, hoping for any sort of clue. Nothing but whitewashed baseboard. It was the same above on the crown molding, except that it was broken up with an occasional block with an ornate picture on it. The ceilings were low enough for Abby to see the blocks. She glanced at the closest one. It had the insignia of Cragbridge Hall—the Watchman. The block before was the same, but near the spot where the next painting should be, the picture was different. It was a small impression of a boat trapped in ice.

  “Carol! Derick!” Abby called out. Within moments they were beside Abby, and Derick had boosted her up for a closer look.

  The detail was amazing. The phrase By Endurance We Conquer was written in tiny letters above the ship. Not knowing what else to do, Abby pushed on the block. After a deep click, a panel of bricks shifted from the wall like a door on hinges. It moved slowly and heavily, but revealed a gap barely wide enough for one person to slide through.

  Derick peered in. “There is a whole hallway back here.”

  “Don’t wait around. Go in,” Carol commanded. “No way could this be the wrong way. Little blocks don’t just open up strange hallways for no reason.”

  Derick took a deep breath, then stepped through the opening. The other two followed.

  As soon as they entered the hallway, dim lights along the walls cast a dull glow. Several feet of darkness stretched between the lights, but they illuminated just enough for the three students to see the general path. Abby smelled a musty odor as she continued down the corridor. All at once, she realized it was the same hallway she’d seen when they first tried to open the cube—the image of someone walking down a dark hall. They were on the right track.

  “This is so mysterious,” Carol said. “Secret passageways. People in danger. I feel like I’m in a movie. Oh, but if I were, who would play me? They’d have to get someone blonde and really pretty—maybe Chloe Xander—but then, I don’t know if she could be as funny as I am.”

  “Aren’t you an actress?” Derick asked. “Couldn’t you just play yourself?”

  “Yeah, I guess I could,” Carol said. “I’d do a really good job.”

  “I’m sure you would,” Derick said.

  “But my question is, is this an action-adventure or a romantic comedy?” Carol asked, walking behind Abby and in front of Derick. “It feels more like an action-adventure movie right now, but we’ll have to wait to see how it ends.” She looked over her shoulder at Derick, who was walking with one hand in his pocket and the other against the wall, safely away from Carol.

  Abby rolled her eyes. They walked for over a hundred yards before Derick stopped and cried out. “Ouch!”

  “What’s wrong?” Abby asked.

  “I walked into something. I think I got cut,” Derick said. He stepped away from the wall. His pants were torn just above the shin. Derick lifted up his pant leg. Droplets of blood began to surface.

  Carol looked closely at the wall. “It was a piece of metal,” she said. “Nasty, jagged thing.”

  Abby moved over to get a closer look. “It looks like another door. Maybe there’s a painting or a mirror on the other side, but someone tried to use the metal to weld it closed. I’d guess that when someone managed to open it, the metal ripped away, and the jagged edge left behind is what cut you.” She looked over at Derick.

  “Whatever it was, it hurt.” Derick limped a few paces, favoring his leg.

  Then it hit Abby. “Coach Adonavich,” she said, her eyes going wide. “She had a mark on her leg—a jagged wound.”

  “Really?” Carol asked.

  “Yeah, I saw it when we were playing basketball. Do you think she’s already been here?”

  “It sounds like she has,” Carol said.

  “I guess now the question is if she’s on our side, or the other,” Derick said.

  “I don’t know,” Abby said.

  Carol hurried on. “And if the metal cut her, who was the one who tried to weld the door shut? They’d have been here before she was. And that means we have at least two other people looking for the same thing we are.”

  “Why couldn’t Grandpa have just left us a list of all the people he really trusted?” Abby said.

  “If we have as much at stake as Grandpa made it seem,” Derick said, “he probably couldn’t be sure of who would stay loyal to him anyway.”

  “No matter who else has been here,” Abby said, “we still have to help. We don’t know if they can be trusted, and Grandpa and Mom and Dad could be counting on us.”

  The three friends walked several more yards before the hall turned. Around the corner, they faced two large double doors—just like they’d seen from the cube before it fell into flat squares. Abby stared for a moment, taking them in. The doors looked more like they belonged on a safe than an entrance to a room. They were made of metal, with bars crossing each other for the entire width and height of the doors. About waist high ran a long, thick bar with what looked like plate-sized gears behind it.

  Derick stepped forward, and after a few moments found a small keyhole in the bar. He inserted the key from the cube. It looked incongruently small, but the lock clicked. Several gears slowly began to turn, grinding under the load of the heavy doors. Whatever was behind them was meant to be kept safe. The doors gradually swung open.

  The three friends walked through the opening—and nearly fell off a ledge. The passage opened into a dark shaft that went straight down. In the darkness, they couldn’t see the bottom. A metal ladder descended into the black. As the three friends peered down, they heard another clicking sound, and the gears worked the door back closed.

  “I hope we don’t need to get out of here in a hurry,” Carol said. “But if something down here makes us upset, and we could manage to slam that door on the way out, I think the whole school would shake.”

  Neither Derick nor Abby responded.

  “So who’s going first?” Carol asked.

  They all stared over the edge of the dark descent.

  “C’mon,” Derick said and began climbing down the ladder.

  “He’s so brave,” Carol said. “Thirty-one percent hotter than before.”

  As Abby climbed down, the steel rungs chilled her hands as if sh
e were grabbing icicles. She must have descended more than three stories before she finally reached a floor.

  They had no sooner dropped to the ground than the image of Grandpa appeared again, glowing in the darkness.

  “Hello, whoever you may be,” he said. He looked younger again. Abby guessed that Grandpa had prepared the image about the same time as the first journal entry. “Many trials led here, and I must congratulate you on getting this far. You are almost to your goal. I must also recognize that because you are doing this, something terrible must be at stake. I hope that your heart is honest and your courage strong, or I doubt you will proceed any further.

  “You see, I have developed some technology that one day I may release in schools, but as for now, I’ve decided against it. It is a simulator unlike any other you have experienced. From inside it, you become as if you were a figure from history.”

  Grandpa’s eyes smiled at the corners; he was very proud of this invention.

  “However,” Grandpa continued, “through technology I will not explain—for it begs questions that are not to be answered yet—this simulator can make you feel what someone in history actually felt.” He cleared his throat. “Or what they may have felt. You use a suit that hangs inside the lockers. Your key from the cube will only open one such door. I apologize if the suit is not your exact size.” Grandpa continued, pointing his finger. “Do not be afraid. The simulator will not hurt you, but it may seem as though it can. If you are to proceed, you must complete a challenge that someone from history has passed. The question is, will you? Doing so will take more than curiosity or knowledge. You must have a cause so important that, like these people in history, you absolutely refuse to give up. If not, you will not pass.

  “You have already heard me say throughout these challenges that I’ve tried to allow only those I trust to successfully discover the secret. Only those with integrity, intelligence, and strength of character should uncover it. Knowing how to use it—or not use it—requires much wisdom. This is my final attempt to ensure that you have such a character.

  “You may try as many times as you like, but each situation will be different, and each will try your mettle. If you’re on my side, if you are someone worthy of my trust, I wish you good luck.”

  And Grandpa was gone. Just hearing his voice helped Abby remember her cause, the reason she had for going on, but she could not help but feel intimidated by what her grandfather had said—that this would test their mettle. Abby just hoped she had enough courage to make it.

  • • •

  A second after Grandpa’s image disappeared, a few sets of simple lights illuminated the space at the bottom of the ladder. Derick could make out a wall full of thin doors—the lockers Grandpa referred to.

  Derick couldn’t believe what he’d heard. A simulator? And he would feel what historical figures had felt? Part of him was thrilled. He might be one of the first to try out this invention. Then again, Grandpa had said it would test him. Maybe he didn’t want to feel what others had felt. Derick looked at both his sister and Carol. “He said only the key from the cube will open this door, so only one of us can do it at a time,” he said.

  “I can do it,” Abby offered.

  Derick knew she would volunteer. She was always willing to try, but could she do it? He loved Abby, but there were many things she struggled with. She wouldn’t have even made it into Cragbridge if Grandpa hadn’t pulled some strings.

  “Or I could try, if you want me to,” Carol offered. “Don’t get me wrong, I can’t say that I’m leaping at the chance. I mean, some people in history have gone through some pretty crazy stuff.”

  Could Carol pass whatever test waited for them? She was fun, bright, and flirty, but this challenge was bound to require more than that. They didn’t have time to waste. Derick thought about his accomplishments, his grades, honors, and athletics. No matter what challenge awaited, he was probably the most likely of the three to make it. This was his responsibility.

  “No,” Derick said. “I should do it.” No one argued further. Derick was pretty sure he saw relief on Abby’s face.

  “That’s pretty heroic,” Carol said, and fanned her face with her hand.

  Derick stepped forward and pressed the key into one of the lockers. It wouldn’t budge. He tried two more times before one opened. From inside, he pulled out a suit and put it on. It was similar to the avatar sensors; perhaps Grandpa had used some of the same technology. Of course, the suit was several sizes too big. Maybe Grandpa hadn’t expected to send his grandkids down to the basement of Cragbridge Hall when he originally planned all this out.

  Along the wall furthest away were two more doors, separated by ten feet or so. They both looked similar to the previous doors—the thick frame, crossbeams, and several gears along the front. The other door looked just as thick and solid. Derick surveyed them both and realized the difference: the keyhole to one was larger. His key would fit only one door. What was the other door for?

  Derick inserted his key into the thick door. After another series of clicks and turns, it swung open. Derick took a deep breath. “Wish me luck.”

  “Good luck,” Abby said.

  “I would, but I don’t believe in luck,” Carol said. “I think life is more about skill, intellect, and striving to make your own opportunities.”

  “Alright,” Derick said, “Wish me skill, intellect, and the chance to be successful in this opportunity—but that isn’t nearly as catchy.”

  Carol laughed. “Do you need a good-luck kiss?”

  Derick didn’t turn around.

  “Wait a second,” Abby said. “I just thought of something. What if the pictures in the cube, and the paintings, are clues as to what you’re about to go through? What if you have to go through a battle, or a surgery with those old tools, or be part of the Endurance crew?”

  Derick paused. Any one of those experiences would try him to the core.

  No one spoke for a moment. Finally, Derick broke the silence. “It can’t really hurt me, right? I might as well give it a try.” He blew out a gust of air and stepped into the doorway. As soon as he was in, the large door automatically closed.

  Derick stood in complete darkness. What had he gotten himself into? No time to think about that now. He had to focus. He had to succeed. He took a step forward.

  24

  Maul

  Grandpa’s voice echoed through the simulator. “If at any time you decide you can’t continue, press the button on the back of your neck. You must remember it’s there, for it will only be there on your real body, not the one you see in the simulator.” So this was just like the avatar. “If you go unconscious, the equipment will automatically terminate the simulation. Remember, you have to complete the task to move on.”

  Derick’s heartbeat raced. He had no idea what to expect.

  A breeze. He felt a breeze. And he could smell ... brush and pine and dirt—mountain air. He knew his body was in the basement of Cragbridge Hall, but his senses were completely deceived. In a moment, Derick saw green and trees, dirt, and rocks. It was absolutely amazing. He had somehow stepped into the great outdoors, and it was larger than life. Huge mountains jutted up at the sky. Trees stood tall and strong almost everywhere he looked. He turned all the way around, taking in the scene. He could even hear the sound of a river nearby.

  He stepped forward through the brush and noticed a weight in his hand. He looked down to find a rifle. Good. If there was anything dangerous in these woods, he’d be ready. He looked at his clothes—mostly animal skins. He had a pouch of water slung around his neck and a large knife at his belt. He was some sort of mountain man.

  Derick looked around again. He still couldn’t get over the beauty of this place. He had been expecting absolute horror, but got this. A bird chirped in the distance. Bushes were laden with berries, and trees with fruit—maybe plums.

  Derick lifted his arm to move a branch out of the way and stepped into a clearing.

  Less than ten yards away, t
wo bear cubs stood by the berries. There was something beautiful about seeing the wild creatures paw their food off the brush and onto the ground or bite it off the bush.

  Oh no. Panic rushed through Derick. Wherever there were cubs, there would also be ... Derick saw the mother bear rise up on her hind legs and roar.

  He took several steps back, his eyes riveted on the beast. She had to be at least seven feet tall, and her bellow seemed to vibrate his bones.

  The bear came down onto her front paws with a thud. She had to weigh hundreds of pounds.

  This wasn’t good. The mother grizzly surely felt that he was a threat to her cubs. Derick remembered hearing somewhere that he should stand as tall as possible, raise his hands in the air, roar back, and try to appear bigger than the bear. The theory was that the bear would respect him and back down. But in the situation, he thought that was the dumbest theory ever suggested. It would be like a baby squirrel trying to intimidate a wolf.

  The bear lumbered forward, teeth bared.

  Derick turned and ran, the bear less than twenty feet away. He sprinted through the brush in sheer terror.

  Climb a tree. Run downhill. Zigzag.

  All of the things he’d heard about surviving a bear attack rushed into his mind. In a split second, he decided to run a zigzag pattern. Derick veered left past a bush and then cut back to the right past a tree. He could hear the bear gaining on him. He thought he could feel its breath against him. He rounded a boulder, and turned—

  A giant paw knocked his body to the ground. It felt like being hit by a baseball bat. Derick skidded across the dirt. His rifle fell from his hand to the ground. He had forgotten he had the gun.

  Derick shuffled to the rifle and turned to face the bear. He only had a second. He pulled the trigger. The kickback from firing the rifle pounded Derick’s ribs, but the bear stopped cold for a moment. Derick had shot the beast in the shoulder.

  The bear roared and bore down on Derick again. With new confidence, Derick pulled the trigger again—nothing. What? One bullet? Derick registered that it was an old-time powder rifle that had to be loaded after each shot at the same time that the bear’s heavy arm collided with the side of his body. He felt claws rip through his skin. The bear hit him again on the other side. And on the head. Derick saw blood. It was getting hard to breathe. Maybe the bear had broken a few of his ribs. Maybe worse.