Jack Kilborn - Endurance

—and heard someone cough.

JD barked once and lunged at the closet door, scratching at the knob. Kelly quickly stood up and backed away, to the bathroom. The wooden floor was cool under her bare feet, and she felt nearly naked in her sleep tee shirt, even though it had three-quarter sleeves and hung past her knees.

The Shepherd continued his attack on the doorknob, even biting it, and though JD had never been able to open a door before Kelly had an unrealistic belief that he might this time.

“JD, come.”

The dog glanced at her.

“Come. Now.”

He trotted over, tongue hanging out, tail wagging. Kelly patted his head, surprised by how reassuring it felt. Then she knelt down and hugged his neck, both of them eyeing the door.

The seconds ticked by. Kelly began to wonder if she’d imaged the cough.

Could it have been something else?

Old houses made noises. There were water pipes, and furnaces, and any number of things that made sound. At home, when Mom flushed the toilet, Kelly could hear it from the basement.

Maybe it wasn’t a cough. Maybe someone upstairs had turned on the shower.

Or maybe someone did cough, but it came from the room next door, not the closet.

JD pressed his cold nose into Kelly’s neck, making her flinch. She stood up.

I should open the door to check.

While Kelly didn’t consider herself a tomboy, she was far from a sissy. Kelly preferred SlipKnot to Hannah Montana , and would much rather watch the Saw movies than High School Musical . She could pick up snakes and frogs without screaming, unlike other girls in her class, and during a sleepover was the only one who could spend a full two minutes in the pitch-dark bathroom with the Ouiji board Sue Ellen Wilcox’s brother swore was possessed by Satan. The only irrational thing that scared Kelly was heights.

Is being afraid of the closet irrational? Or common sense?

“It’s irrational,” Kelly said. Her mother loved the word irrational . And if she were there right now, she’d march over to the closet and show Kelly how irrational her fears were.

Drawing on that, Kelly walked toward the door.

The floor creaked under her feet. Though only a few yards separated her from the closet, it seemed like it took a very long time for her to get there. Each step closer increased Kelly’s apprehension. When she finally reached out and touched the knob, her throat felt like there was a walnut stuck in it she was unable to swallow.

Just open the door.

She tightened her grip, but still hesitated.

What if I open it, and the hunter is standing there?

Kelly looked back at JD. He’d stayed next to the bathroom, still as a picture.

Maybe I should listen to the door first.

The girl carefully placed her ear against the cool, rough wood. Again she held her breath, listening for sounds.

A few seconds passed.

Kelly heard nothing.

Mom’s voice appeared in Kelly’s head, like it did whenever she stepped onto a diving board. “You’re being irrational, Kelly. What’s the worst that can happen?”

Crack my head open and drown?

Or in this case, get attacked by a crazy, birth-defected redneck?

Maybe pushing a chair up against the door was a better idea than opening it. Kelly saw a small desk and chair, tucked into the corner of the room. She could brace the chair up under the knob, so nothing could get out of the closet.

No. I’ll never get to sleep unless I check. It’s a big day tomorrow. I can’t spend the night with one eye open, waiting for a monster man to break out and attack me.

Kelly turned the knob—

—yanked the door open—

—and saw—

“Nothing,” Kelly said, blowing out a big breath. She turned around to glare at her dog. “JD, you’re one dumb—”

A creaking noise came from inside the closet, so close Kelly could practically touch it. She startled, jumping backwards, eyes focusing on...

An empty closet.

So what made that noise?

Curiosity won out over fear, and Kelly crept back toward the closet. It was a small space, no more than five feet wide and deep. At eye-level, bisecting the space, was a metal bar, where two wire hangers hung.

Is one of the hangers swinging?

Kelly couldn’t tell. If there was movement, it was slight, and might have happened when she opened the door. She stepped closer, sticking her head inside the closet. There was no overhead light, and it was tough to make out any details beyond the three walls. Kelly went back to the bed, picked up her iPod, and switched it on. One of her apps was simply a bright white screen that functioned as a nightlight. She shined it all over the closet, not exactly sure what she was looking for, but finding something unusual on the floor.

A straw of hay.

Not unusual by itself. But the odd thing was its position. The hay seemed to be stuck under the back wall of the closet. Almost like it was caught in a door.

Kelly tentatively pressed her palm against the wooden wall and pushed. The wall didn’t budge. She gave it a quick rap with her knuckles.

Hollow. But that might be the room next door.

Kelly crouched down, grasped the straw between her thumb and index finger, and tugged. The hay broke in half, still wedged beneath the wall.

WTF?

Then something nudged her from behind.

Kelly yelped, scrambling forward, turning around to face JD.

“Bad dog,” she said, though he really didn’t do anything worthy of scolding.

The comment didn’t seem to bother the canine. He brushed past Kelly, sniffing the floor, and his nose locked onto the corner of the closet. He whined and pawed at the wall, finding something that interested him.

Kelly nudged the Shepherd aside and pointed her iPod at the space he’d been clawing at. The white screen illuminated a small, wooden knob on the floor. It looked like the top of a broomstick, no taller than two inches. Kelly tried to pick it up, but it was stuck. Instead of pulling, she tried to push.

There was a clicking sound, and the wall Kelly had her shoulder against suddenly moved.

A secret passage.

Before Kelly had a chance to process what was happening, JD darted past her, scratching the wall, pushing it open on an unseen hinge like a big door. Then he charged into the blackness behind the wall, disappearing into the darkness.

“JD!” she yelled after him.

Kelly heard the click click click of his toenails on the wooden floor echo away into silence. She squinted into the gap. It was a thin hallway, no more than two feet wide. Unlit, though the iPod allowed her to see that the hall stretched for several yards.

She turned to go tell her mother, then stopped, imagining Mom’s lecture.

“ You let JD run off? How irresponsible, Kelly.”

Mom liked the word irresponsible almost as much as irrational .

I should still go get her.

But why? I’m almost a teenager. I don’t need to go to Mom for everything.

What if someone is in there?

JD barked. He didn’t sound very far.

“JD!” she called again.

He barked once more.

Then he yelped.

The yelp was the deciding factor. Kelly had raised JD since he was a pup. Mom bought him right after Dad died, and Kelly had had quite enough of losing loved ones, thank you very much. If her dog was hurt, she had to go get him. No other way about it.

Kelly quickly put on her jogging pants and her gym shoes and stepped into the gap. It was just wide enough for her to walk normally, rather than sideways, though her shoulders did brush the walls. She moved quickly, her iPod bobbing up and down so she could alternate between watching her footing and looking ahead. The corridor smelled like mildew and dust, with notes of something else beneath it—something that reeked like really bad body odor.