What's A Ghoul To Do? Part 20

"No. I'm reaching out with my antennae, but I'm not hitting any kind of spirit energy."

"Maybe it's not a spirit," he whispered back. There was a pause between us, and I blinked in the dark, unable to see anything unless I held up the viewfinder. That gave me an idea, and I whispered to Steven, "We can point the camera around the corner and look through the viewfinder. Hopefully whoever is there won't be too far out of camera range and we'll be able to see who it is."

"Good idea," Steven said, and moved me around in front of him. With Steven's chest at my back I held the camera up at an angle where we could both see through the viewfinder and pointed the lens around the corner. Just out of clear view there appeared to be a figure moving deeper into the tunnel. I was convinced it wasn't spectral, as there was no energy coming from it that felt spiritual. "It's a man," I whispered back to Steven.

"Could be a woman," he said. "We can't tell from back here."

"I say we follow slow and quiet-like until we can get a better view."

"After you," he said into my ear.

I moved soundlessly around the sharp corner, which was a tight fit for me and an even tighter one for Steven. Once we'd cleared the turn, I held the camera in front of us and we both moved forward on tiptoe. My palms grew sweaty as we inched closer to the shape in front of us, which was gradually turning from a gray blob into something decidedly human. Step by step we closed the s.p.a.ce between us, and we watched as the figure stopped walking and bent down to the ground. I felt Steven's grip on my shoulder tighten. Suddenly in front of us a light flickered, causing me to squint into the viewfinder, and I quickly looked up from it to the real light ahead. We could just make out the bent form of someone crouched down and facing away from us. I lowered the camera as we headed toward the light, until Steven tripped on my heel and I let out a small gasp.

The light immediately went out, plunging us all into darkness again. I quickly raised the camera and looked through the viewfinder, but all we could see were the legs of our intruder running up what looked like steps at the end of the tunnel.

"Stop!" Steven yelled, knowing we'd been heard. "Who are you?" he said as we jogged forward. A blinding light shone in the darkness. We both stopped to s.h.i.+eld our eyes; then we heard a bang as we were plunged back into total darkness. "h.e.l.lo!" Steven said again, but there was no reply, and I knew that we were now alone in the tunnel. "Steven," I said urgently. "Turn on the flashlight and let's run after him!"

Steven did, but at that exact instant there was a tremendous explosion. The sound was like lightning striking right next to us. The explosion and resulting tremor reverberated through the tunnel and knocked us to the ground. I landed on top of Steven, who rolled me underneath him and covered me with his bulk as dust and debris showered down seconds before water came pouring in all around us.

We scrambled up and I grabbed the flashlight from the ground, where the water was quickly rising about our feet. "The pool!" I yelled. "He's blown a hole in the pool!"

Steven took my arm and yanked me behind him as we ran ahead to the stairs. We dashed up but stopped short as the flashlight's beam reflected off a large wooden door. Steven pulled at the handle, but it was locked tight. "d.a.m.n it!" he said as he backed down a few of the stairs, then raced up and threw his shoulder against the door. It shuddered, but held firm. "That b.a.s.t.a.r.d's shut us in here!" he yelled, pounding on the door with his fist.

I joined him in pounding, both of us calling for help. Panting, I turned around and nervously aimed the flashlight back down the steps and noticed that the second stair was quickly disappearing as the water continued to pour in. "What do we do?" I asked, trying to keep the panic out of my voice.

Steven answered by throwing himself again against the door one last time, but it held firm. He was silent for a moment as he rubbed his shoulder; then he seemed to make up his mind and he said, "We go back."

"We what?' what?'

"How is your backstroking, M.J.?" he said, and dashed down the stairs, taking my hand and pulling me along.

"But, Steven!" I squealed as I waded now in knee-deep water. "We could drown going this way!"

"Yes, that is true," he said over his shoulder. "But if we stay here, we will definitely drown. That pool is Olympic-sized and fourteen feet deep. There is enough water to fill two of these tunnels."

"s.h.i.+t!" I said, working hard to steady the beam of the flashlight, which kept getting wet as I struggled to walk through the rising water. "Could the odds be any more against us?"

As if on cue the flashlight went out. Next to me I heard Steven say, "That would be a yes."

Chapter 10.

I trudged forward in the darkness as the water rose above my chest and I was quickly forced to swim while trying desperately not to panic. I could feel Steven next to me, periodically pulling on my s.h.i.+rt to make sure I was keeping pace with him as we followed along the wall of the tunnel. As my labored breathing reverberated off the walls, I could sense the ceiling just above my head, and knew we had very little time. "Steven," I sputtered as I kicked and paddled.

"I'm here," he said with another tug on my s.h.i.+rt.

"How are we going to get out of this?"

"We need to reach the beach," he said, his voice remarkably calm for a guy about to drown.

My mind worked on that for a minute. "What beach?" beach?" I asked. I asked.

"You know," he said, his voice bouncing off the sides of the tunnel. "Where the hole is."

"You mean breach," breach," I panted as I continued to kick with my legs and pull with my arms. I panted as I continued to kick with my legs and pull with my arms.

"Yes, that too," he said. "When the water reaches the ceiling it will stop coming in, and if the hole is big enough we can swim through it to the pool."

"Just like that? We swim through the hole?" I asked, my hope rising.

"Yes. Unless the pool collapses on top of us; then our goose will be ... how you do say ... burned?"

I groaned. "How much time do you think we have to make it?" My legs and arms were quickly becoming tired.

"I don't know, so you must swim as fast as you can, okay?" he said, and gave my arm a pull forward.

I gulped and concentrated on making it down the tunnel. Fortunately, about the time my hand could easily touch the ceiling, we made it to the sharp corner. "Hurry!" Steven urged, pulling me in the dark around to the other side. This section of the tunnel was now dimly lit, as twenty yards ahead of us we could see the water pouring in through a three-foot gap in the ceiling. "We're close!" Steven said, and we both pushed ourselves hard the last few yards to the hole. We treaded water around it as the water inched up farther and farther.

"What now?" I asked.

Steven moved behind me and grabbed me around the waist. Breathing hard in my ear from the difficult swim, he said, "We must wait for the tunnel to fill all the way up. Then we swim through the hole and get out of the pool as fast as we can. The rest of the floor could collapse at any moment, so don't walk on it. Just swim to the edge and pull yourself out."

I nodded and waited those last anxious moments while water moved ever closer to the ceiling. Steven and I strained to stay close to the hole and breathe the remaining air until we were completely submerged. Finally, noses touching the ceiling, we took one last gulp of air and moved closer to the hole, waiting for the pressure to equalize so that we could swim up through it. Seconds ticked by, my heart pounded hard in my chest, and finally I felt Steven give me a great shove forward and up through the hole.

Kicking and stroking as hard as I could, I plunged up out of the tunnel and into the pool. With a few more kicks I cleared the surface as my lungs were about to burst. I gulped the air hungrily before I noticed that Steven hadn't come up yet.

Looking down I could see the hole, and in the center of it he seemed to be struggling. Alarmed, I took another gulp of air and swam back down to him. He was tugging at something around his waist, and I saw that the back of his belt was caught on one of the jagged edges of steel sticking out of the concrete. Reaching for him, I pushed his waist down and worked to unhook the belt. It took me a few tries, but I finally got him free and that was when I felt him go limp.

Turning around in the water, I hooked my arms under his shoulders and clasped my hands across his chest, then kicked my legs with all my might. We moved a fraction of an inch. My lungs screamed for air, and my heart pounded hard in my ears as I looked up at the surface, which seemed a thousand feet away. I glanced back down at the pool's bottom, just a foot or two below. Still holding tight to Steven with one arm, I used the other to push us back down, trying to get as far away from the hole as I could, then crouched and with all of my remaining strength pushed off from the floor of the pool. We coasted several feet up, and I kicked and used one arm to make it to the top.

I gasped as I cleared the surface, struggling to pull Steven's head above water too. I had no idea if he was able to take a breath, but I'd worry about that in a moment. Rolling onto my side, I held him with one arm and used the other, along with my legs, to make it to the shallow end. Finally my feet found the floor, and I dragged Steven's limp body forward until I had him in about a foot of water. I heard a loud gurgle back in the deep end, and knew that the hole was giving way and the whole floor of the pool was about to collapse.

Panting and exhausted, I tugged Steven over to the ladder, trying hard not to focus on the fact that his lips were turning blue. I climbed quickly out of the pool and lay down on my stomach, and, reaching for him, I hooked my hands under his shoulders and pulled with a strength born of sheer adrenaline. Another gurgle came from the deep end just as I nearly lost my grip on him, and with a tremendous growl I heaved him from the lip of the pool onto the deck. As his feet came over the edge the hole in the bottom of the pool expanded with a rumble that shook the foundation, and a gigantic gap opened straight up the middle of the pool.

My breathing was so labored I could barely remain conscious, and my limbs felt like lead. More than anything I just wanted to lie down for a moment and catch my breath, but the light blue tinge to Steven's lips had spread now to his cheeks, and I knew I had very little time left. I crawled to his head and tilted it back, thankful that I'd had lifeguard training in high school. Pinching his nose, I opened his mouth and took a huge gulp of air. I blew down into his airway but felt it constricted. I tried again, and again, and finally he convulsed and a great gulp of water came up out of his mouth. I turned him sideways as he began to cough and retch. "Thank G.o.d," I panted, easing him up to lean on me after he'd coughed up the worst of it.

It took several minutes before Steven was able to talk. Finally he managed to say, "I couldn't get out of that d.a.m.n hole."

"It was your belt. It got caught."

He nodded and continued to hack and wheeze. I waited him out, holding on to his chest as we sat there dripping and regaining our strength. After a while he gave a pat to my hands and rasped, "Thank you."

I smiled. "You're just lucky I remembered my CPR training."

"You did chest compressions?"

"Uh ... no," I said, suddenly remembering that I hadn't even thought about checking for a pulse.

"You just blew into my mouth and it worked, huh?"

"Let's not forget about pulling you to safety and getting your b.u.t.t out of the pool," I reminded him.

Steven leaned to the side so that he could look into the pool. "We were almost toasted, huh?"

I smiled tiredly. "Yep. Our goose was almost burned."

Squeezing my knee he got slowly to his feet. "Come on," he said to me. "Let's get out of these wet clothes and go find the son of a b.i.t.c.h who tried to kill us."

An hour later, as our clothes tumbled around in the dryer, Steven was outside wrapping up his talk with the local sheriff. I remained inside sipping some hot tea, ensconced in a bathrobe that had come right out of Andrew's closet.

The smell of a spicy aftershave seemed to compete with the scent of chlorine still on my skin as I watched them through the window and thought about who could possibly have wanted us dead. On that front, Steven and I were both in agreement-someone had wanted to drown us, and had lured us to the bas.e.m.e.nt with the open door to the tunnel.

Before the sheriff arrived we'd had a chance to talk about it, and Steven had said, "Whoever that was in the tunnel, it was definitely human."

I nodded. "Yep, that's a safe bet. Last time I checked, not even the cleverest, most active spirit I've ever come across could set off an explosive."

We fell into uncomfortable silence before Steven said, "So the question is, who and why?"

I was still pondering that as I saw the sheriff flip his notebook closed and hand Steven a card. A minute or two later Steven came back inside and the sheriff drove off. "So what'd he say?"

"He said we were two lucky people, especially after he got a look at the cellar and what's left of the pool." Water now nearly covered the bas.e.m.e.nt steps. Besides calling the sheriff, Steven had also contacted his insurance company and a plumber. The plumber couldn't come out until the day after tomorrow, and the adjuster wanted to wait until all the water had been drained before a.s.sessing the damage and writing a check. We'd been advised to stay away from both the pool area and the cellar. Gee, and Steven and I were so close to perfecting our synchronized swimming routine.

"So what now?" I asked as I walked with him through the front hall and back to the kitchen. Steven ducked my question until he'd gone into the laundry room off the kitchen to retrieve his pants and s.h.i.+rt. Coming back out, he tossed me my own clothes and said, "Now we get dressed and head back into those woods."

Once we were clothed we walked over to the edge of the woods, where the orbs had led us the night before. "Should be easier to follow the path in the daylight," I said as my eyes swept the brush in front of me, looking for the path.

"Not just yet," Steven said as he looked at the ground leading away from the house. Looking there too, I noticed an indentation in the lawn that came from the wall of the indoor pool and out across the lawn in a line, before turning sharply and entering the woods just down from where we stood. "This way," Steven said.

When we got to the spot where the lawn stopped and the woods began, we saw the indentation continue, but it was much harder to see, given all the foliage. We poked around in the general direction we thought the tunnel traveled, looking back at the house to check that we were on course. But the scrub became too dense, and we knew we were offtrack when no exit from the tunnel could be found.

"Where did we go wrong?" I asked, scratching my head.

Steven looked around him and placed his hands on his hips. "There must be something around here," he mused, and suddenly his face lit up. "M.J.!" he said excitedly, then pointed to our right. "Over there, look!"

I turned to where he indicated and saw what looked like a tiny stream leaking out from behind a tree directly across from us. Steven moved toward it and I followed him. Sure enough, when we rounded the tree we could see a narrow door, cleverly built into the side of the tree, as a steady flow of water leaked out of the tree and puddled around our feet. "This is wild," I said, trying the door. It was locked tight.

"Come on," Steven said, leading me away from the tree. "We know where that leads, but what we don't know is where this path goes."

I swiveled around to see that the stream was actually made possible by a path that led away from the tree. Water covered it in its path of least resistance, but as we walked along, the water eventually became sidetracked and nothing but the dry path remained.

We walked at least a half mile, until we came abruptly to a rather small cottage almost completely engulfed by the woods.

"Where are we?" I asked as we stepped out of the woods onto a small walkway leading to the front door of the cabin.

"I think we're at Willis's house," Steven said as he looked around.

"Your grandfather's groundskeeper?"

"Yes," Steven said, raising his hand to knock. "This must be the cabin my grandfather built for him last year."

I lowered my voice and asked, "Why haven't we seen him before now?"

Steven smiled at me without answering and knocked very hard, three times. We listened as someone called from inside, and after we opened the door I knew exactly why we hadn't seen Willis.

"Steven!" a frail-looking black man in a wheelchair said as we stepped inside.

"h.e.l.lo, Willis," Steven said, moving to him and squatting down next to the wheelchair. "How is the leg?"

"Oh, it'll be all right," Willis said, smiling as he reached out to clasp Steven's hand. "That's the thing about diabetes: You can't let it get you down." He laughed.

I could see that Willis's right leg was propped up on a foot stool in front of the chair.

"Mind if I examine it?" Steven asked as he moved to inspect Willis's leg.

"You doctors are all alike," Willis said. "You know your daddy was just here about an hour ago, and he's already fussed over it."

Steven paused ever so slightly as he asked, "My father was here?"

"Yeah. Ever since we lost Andrew he's been coming up here to check on me. And I know the two of you don't get along, but I'll tell you, your father is a good man. We've been having ourselves some good talks, he and I."

"Really," Steven said, and I watched as his back seemed to stiffen.

"Yep. He's been trying to talk me into moving back to Jamaica Plain with my daughter; you remember her?" Willis said as he pointed to a series of photographs on the mantel above the fireplace.

"I remember. How is she getting along?" Steven asked.

"Janelle is doing great. She became a nurse, you know. Works in the same hospital as your father, in fact. And I'd love to move back with her, but there's no sense in being a burden on your children. That's why your father's been trying to get me well. He's been talking to me about this new drug he's working on that might be able to help out an old man like me," Willis said. "He says he thinks he can even get me back up and walkin'."

Steven looked hard at Willis. "Does my father come here... er ... with frequency?"

Willis c.o.c.ked his head inquisitively and thought about it for a moment. "I think just about every couple of days for the past two months or so."

"That's great," Steven said tightly, and stood up. "Listen," he said, walking over to sit on a nearby couch and patting the seat next to him for me. "We are having some big trouble at the lodge."

"Was that what I heard earlier this afternoon? I was taking a nap when I thought I heard thunder, but when I woke up there wasn't a cloud in the sky," Willis said.

Steven nodded and started to explain to Willis what had happened to us earlier. While he talked, I took a moment to look around the small cottage. The place had the look and feel of a log cabin, with log walls, hardwood floors, and an A-frame roof. A stone fireplace dominated the living room, and behind where we sat I had noticed a galley-style kitchen.

My eye finally settled on a small table by the front window, where a chessboard was set up with what looked like a game in process. As I looked at the arrangement I felt my radar begin to hum. The letter A drifted into my head, and something that sounded like a... drew a... drew buzzed around inside my mind. buzzed around inside my mind.