F. Wilson - Secret Circles

Now that she mentioned it, it did sound something like a voice.

Suddenly she gasped as her eyes flew open.

“Jack, it‟s a child!”

12

After listening awhile longer, concentrating with everything he had, Jack had to agree. It wasn‟t a cat.

“Yeah. It does sound sort of like a kid.” A small, very scared kid. “Cody!”

“Oh, no!” Weezy said. “You think Drexler kidnapped him and locked him down here?”

As weird and creepy as Mr. Drexler was, Jack didn‟t think so.

“Think about it: How would he get him down here? Not through that door we used—we‟re the first to open that thing in a long time.”

“Okay. So maybe it wasn‟t him. But if it‟s Cody, how did he get down here?”

“I don‟t know. Maybe he fell in somewhere and couldn‟t get out. We‟ll worry about that later.”

He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “Cody!”

They stood statue still and silent, waiting. And then it came … faint, faraway, even higher pitched, but unmistakable.

“Hello? Is someone there? Hello?”

Jack wanted to cheer. He was alive! Cody was alive, and they‟d found him!

“We hear you, Cody!” Jack called. “We‟re coming to get you! Just keep talking!”

But he didn‟t keep talking. He started crying, and the relief and terror in the sound tore at Jack.

He grabbed Weezy‟s arm. “Let‟s go.”

But she held back, looking over her shoulder. Jack followed her gaze and saw the shaft of light from the trapdoor. He remembered her fear of someone closing it and locking them down here.

…it’s my worst nightmare…

Yeah, but they couldn‟t leave Cody. Not after what he‟d already been through. Handing her his flashlight, he said, “Wait here.”

He ran back toward the trapdoor. Along the way he encountered water sooner than expected. It was spreading and deepening, and had reached all the way to the first doorway now. At the base of the trapdoor ladder it was ankle deep and cold as it filled his sneakers.

That stone barrier at the other end must have sprung more leaks, or the existing ones had enlarged.

He rushed up the ladder to the cellar and checked beneath the trapdoor. The pyramid had fallen out when they‟d lifted the door. He pulled a chair over to the opening, then lifted the door and wedged it against it. Then he reinserted the pyramid in the cavity and began turning. It took only a fraction of the effort he‟d needed to open it.

As he turned he watched three latches—top, bottom, and side—slide out. He‟d thought there was only one. Man, they sure must have wanted to keep people out of that passage down there.

And then a thought struck: Or had they wanted to keep something down there from coming up?

Don‟t go there, he told himself.

He pulled the pyramid from the cavity, pushed the door back, and then checked out his handiwork: With the latches locked out, the door couldn‟t close.

And without the pyramid—which Jack was going to take with him—no way anyone could

retract the latches.

Unless, of course, they had another pyramid.

Don‟t go there either, he thought.

He slipped through the doorway and down the ladder to the passage—

—where the water was now about an inch above his ankles.

Not good. That barrier had to be leaking pretty badly. If it ever gave way …

And especially don‟t go there.

They had to find Cody and get him out ASAP.

He thought about going for help, but that could take a while. How long for the two of them to find Cody? Five minutes tops. And another five to get him back to the ladder. The poor kid had waited long enough.

He splashed back to Weezy and showed her the pyramid.

“No one can lock us down here now.” He placed it in the center of the intersection. “And this will mark the spot we need to come back to.”

“Where are you?” cried a small, faraway voice. “Are you still there?”

“We‟re coming, Cody!” Jack called. “Stay right where you are and keep yelling „hello.‟ We‟ll find you.” He looked at Weezy. “Okay. Let‟s go get him.”

Weezy nodded and pointed to their left. “I think he‟s that way.”

Jack agreed, so they set off in that direction.

They‟d speed-walked maybe a hundred feet when they came to another intersection, this one a T with the leg running to their right. Cody‟s voice seemed to be coming down the leg.

Jack pointed and started in that direction, then stopped. He looked back the way they‟d come and saw only darkness.

“Hey, we could get lost.”

“I don‟t get lost,” Weezy said. “And you won‟t as long as you stay with me.”

True. Weezy never got lost. She‟d wander all through the Pines and always find her way back.

But this was different.

“You‟re sure? This isn‟t like being in the Barrens. You can‟t see the sky. No sun or stars to guide you. There‟s not even any light.”

She tapped her forehead. “I don‟t know how it works, but it‟s all up here. I always remember the paths I take. I can always go back the way I came.”

That wasn‟t all she remembered. Her photographic memory didn‟t let her forget anything she‟d ever read. He envied her that.

“Okay. I‟m counting on you.”

They hurried on, their progress slowed by a pile of rocks and dirt where the ceiling had given way. They picked their way over that, then continued on.

“I‟m worried about something else,” Weezy said. “What if it‟s not Cody?”

“How can it be anyone else? He‟s the only kid who‟s disappeared.”

“But what if it‟s not a kid? What if it‟s some thing else?”

“Oh, jeez. You‟re not going to start, are you? What else could it be?”

“Well, we know there‟s something out in the Pines, something that chases people—we know that from personal experience.”

“Okay, yeah. But that was a bear.”

“You‟re calling it a bear, but we never got a clear look at it.”

“It was a bear , Weez.”

Had to be.

“But what if it was something else … something with the power to lure you to it by sounding like a frightened child?”

“Weez, it‟s speaking to us. Listen.”

Somewhere up ahead a child‟s voice was repeating, “Hello? … Hello … Hello?”

“I know, I know. I just …”

They came to another four-way intersection and Weezy stopped, turning in a circle.

“You know what?” she said.

Jack wasn‟t sure he wanted to hear this.

“What?”

“Remember the black cube the pyramid came in, and how it had that pattern of crisscrossing lines etched on its inside?”

“Sure. You made a tracing.”

“Well, I‟ve always wondered what they represented. I mean they weren‟t random. They formed a sort of grid. I‟m beginning to believe it was a street map.”

“Of this place?”

She nodded. “Yeah. I‟m not sure yet, but—hey!” She jumped as if she‟d been bitten on the foot.

“What—?”

Jack aimed his flashlight down and saw water swirling around their sneakers. He hadn‟t noticed because his feet were already wet.

“This is not good,” he said. “This is not good at all.”

“What‟s going on?”

“The lake … it‟s seeping through.”

Her voice rose an octave. “You call this seeping ?”

“Okay. It‟s breaking through.”

“But Jack, have you noticed? We‟ve been on a slight incline. That means the water‟s already lots deeper back where we came from.”

“Hello?” came the little voice. “Are you still there?”