Kathy Reichs - Seizure

“Fine.” Not a care in the world.

Hi leaned close to his screen. “What do you mean, ‘fine’?”

“Don’t come with me,” I said. “I’ll go by myself.”

The boys all spoke at once.

“Don’t be a drama queen.” Hi.

“You can’t go alone.” Ben.

“Somebody has to watch your back.” Shelton.

I bulled ahead. Crazed idea or not, I was tired of arguing. I could sense Bonny’s treasure was tantalizingly close. No chance I’d wait another night.

“The only way through that wall is to move the stones,” I said. “And we can’t dismantle masonry on a guided tour.”

Sullen looks, but no contradictions.

“We either finish the job, or give up.” I crossed my arms. “I’ve made my call. Make yours.”

“I go first.” Ben pointed with his bolt cutters. “Ten seconds, then Shelton. After him, you two count to thirty, then come as fast as you can.”

“Everyone off the street ASAP,” I added.

We were huddled behind a jewelry store, one block south of the Exchange Building. Dressed in black. Just past three in the morning.

I carried only my backpack. Inside were a pen, four flashlights, bottled water, an electric lantern, and Bonny’s map.

“If Shelton can’t pick the door quickly, we bail.” Ben looked hard at me. “Right away. No exceptions.”

“Agreed.”

“If I see a car, my ass is hauling,” Hi said. “Usain Bolt style. I’ll swim home if necessary.”

“I’ll pop the lock,” Shelton promised. “But if the building has an alarm …”

He didn’t finish. No point. We had to pray for low-tech security.

“The rally point is Washington Park,” Ben said. “Miss that, meet back at Sewee .”

“Of everything we’ve done,” Hi said, “this is by far the stupidest. Just wanted to get that on record.”

Ben closed his eyes, inhaled, then charged around the corner.

“One one thousand … two one thousand …”

At ten, Shelton took off like a shot.

As I counted to thirty, Hi did little toe jumps at my side. Finally, after an eternity, we hit our mark.

“Go!”

We sprinted the short block to the building.

Success! The gate was open. Hi and I slid through and pulled it shut.

I turned and scanned the street. No movement, no signs of life.

“Keep going,” Hi said.

We streaked down the staircase. The door at the bottom swung open. Ben waved us through, then closed it behind us.

I clapped Shelton’s back. “Nice work!”

“No sweat.” Shelton’s face was drenched. “Okay, a lot of sweat, but that lock was a joke.”

We thumbed on our flashlights.

“This place is scarier at three a.m.” Hi whispered.

“A tad.” Shelton’s voice quavered.

I didn’t disagree.

We crossed the basement and descended the second set of steps. At the bottom we paused to regroup.

“Flare time.” As usual, three of us had no problem.

SNAP.

“ Damn damn damn! ” Ben. Struggling.

“Try to relax,” Hi suggested. “Let it come to you.”

“Relax?” Ben hissed. “What are you, an idiot? That never works.”

“Over here.” I’d already located the oddly mortared stone.

Shelton and Hi hurried to my side, leaving Ben to stew alone.

“The air seems to flow from behind,” I said. “Help me push.”

Shelton dropped to a knee beside me. Together we pushed with all the flare strength we could muster.

Nothing. The rock didn’t budge. A sick feeling formed in my stomach.

Hi added his back to the mix. We gave it everything. The stone refused to give.

The sick feeling grew.

“It’s no good,” Shelton panted. “This bastard’s not moving.”

“Let’s take off,” Hi pleaded. “We’ll try something else.”

“No,” I said. “We need Ben.”

“Ben can’t play right now!” Shelton yelped. “And we don’t have time to wait.”

I grabbed Hi’s shoulder. “Go! Do your thing!”

“You’re pretty casual with my life, you know.”

“Go!”

Groaning, Hi got to his feet, considered a moment, then crossed to Ben.

“Still failing?” Hi asked. Casual.

“I almost had it!” Ben barked.

“Maybe it’s your Native American blood,” Hi offered. “Perhaps conquered peoples can’t tap superpowers?”

Ben stilled. “What did you say?”

“Weakness,” Hi mused. “Inferior races might lack the genetics for flaring.”

Ben grabbed Hi by the shirt, pulled his face close.

“You wanna see an inferior race, you—”

Ben shuddered as the power scorched through him. Hi scooted backward, just in case.

“God, you’re easy!” Hi chuckled.

Ben’s eyes burned a deep amber-gold. “You’re getting a little too good at pushing my buttons, Stolowitski.”

Hi bowed. “Practice makes perfect.”

“Ben!” I called out. “Move this fricking rock, already!”

Ben’s eyes swiveled to me. Without a word, he charged across the dungeon, dropped to his back, and slammed his boots into the stone.

A ghastly creaking filled the dank chamber. Fragments of mortar cascaded to the floor. Slowly the stone moved backward from the rest of the wall.

Ben paused, panting. Then he slammed again, legs driving. Two more thrusts drove the stone into open space.

“You did it!” Hi said.

Ben’s efforts had created an opening just large enough to wriggle through. Heads close, we peered through it. Nothing but darkness. A chilly breeze caressed the skin on our faces.

I pointed my flashlight. The beam probed the blackness beyond, revealing a narrow tunnel approximately three feet in diameter.

Shelton spoke first. “No way I’m going in there.”

“This must be how Bonny escaped,” I said. “The treasure could be—”

“Look at that!” Near hysteria coated Shelton’s words. “We have no idea where this pit leads! We could get trapped and never get out!”

Ben squared Shelton’s shoulders and looked him in the eye.

“I’ll be with you the whole way,” he promised. “You can do this. Any problems, we turn around.”

Shelton let out a strangled cry. Wiped his glasses. Nodded.

“Ready?” I asked.

“We’re ready,” Ben said.

Dropping to all fours, I crawled into the hole.

SILENCE FILLED THE dungeon in the ruins of Half-Moon Battery.

Deathly. Foreboding.

Dust particles danced in the air oozing from the fresh wound in the rear wall.

Absolute blackness blanketed the chamber.

Then, a noise.

Overhead, wood creaked.

A faint glow appeared at the top of the stairs, slowly worked its way downward.

Moving shadows shot the walls at sharp angles.

The glow reached ground level.

Gravel crunched.

The flickering light crossed toward the back of the chamber. Paused.

Seconds ticked by.

Shadows spun the walls.

The light reversed and bobbed back up the steps.

Darkness returned.

Moments later, footsteps again broke the silence. Descending with purpose.

This time, the light was stronger, white and penetrating.

Without hesitation, the radiance moved into the exposed gap and was gone.

CLAUSTROPHOBIA THREATENED TO overwhelm me.

The tunnel was rough-edged, low, and seemingly endless. My flashlight beam dissolved into darkness two yards out.