“Well I guess it doesn’t really matter much,” said Jack. “If they are connected Anderson is in jail anyway, and if they’re not, there’s no reason to believe that the hotel guy is still around.”
“Except that’s exactly what I believe,” said Ben.
“Yeah,” smiled Jack, “but aside from that.”
“You think it’s a joke,” said Ben. “We’ll see.”
“Hey, that reminds me, we have to do those essays,” said Jack.
Wednesday was sunny and the boys told Jack’s mom that they were going to catalogue the species of reptiles near the creek. They had already written essays about it and hidden them in Jack’s shirt drawer. They planned to set out after breakfast.
While Jack and Stephen did the dishes, Ben tried to reach his mother on the phone. He came back to the kitchen to find his friends just wrapping up their chores.
“What’d she say?” asked Jack.
“I still can’t get her,” said Ben. “At the house the answering machine picks up, and her cell phone is off.”
“What about your brother’s phone?” Jack asked.
“Nothing,” replied Ben.
“I bet she lost her cell again,” said Ben. “That’s all I can think.”
“Yeah, but why wouldn’t she get your message?” asked Jack.
“She hardly ever checks it,” said Ben. “Whatever. I’m sure she’ll get back to me soon.”
“We ready?” asked Jack.
“Why not,” said Ben.
They grabbed their packs, put on sunscreen so Jack’s mom wouldn’t worry, and headed out. Since it was fairly early, they decided to risk the path, but they didn’t talk to one another so they could listen for Smoker. Jack took the lead and paused every hundred yards, to hear if anything was following them. They verified Jack’s fishing line still stretched across the path, and were unsurprised that the new envelope hadn’t arrived.
Jack led them rapidly through the hotel’s passages, checking his notebook at each room to be sure they remembered each trick. They had grown accustomed to waiting for the white room, so they talked and sat in the dark for over fifteen minutes.
“This sucks — it’s not going to open,” said Jack. He turned on his light.
“Maybe it’s us,” said Ben. “Try turning off the light again and let’s all just be quiet.”
“You think someone is listening?” asked Stephen, dubious.
“It could be simpler than that. Maybe it’s just a motion or noise sensor,” answered Ben. “I’m pretty sure the light
“Worth a shot,” said Jack.
After they had extinguished their lights and sat quiet for two minutes, the door began to open.
“See?” gloated Ben.
When they arrived at the spiral room with the door under the stairs, the scene jogged Jack’s memory. “Hey Ben, set your watch alarm for eleven a.m., would you?”
“Sure,” said Ben. “Why? You want to turn around then?”
“Not necessarily, but I want to make the decision then,” said Jack.
“Okay,” said Ben.
Today the maze was no challenge. On the way out on Monday they had added to their markings. Each time they reached a new decision point they had marked the way out, but when they followed those markings, they also marked the way they had come. This gave them a series of indicators that showed both the way in and out.
“This is awesome, Jack,” commented Ben. “I’m going to tell my brother about marking both directions.”
When they reached the ledge none of the boys wanted a boost. They wanted to try Jack’s method of vaulting up to the next level. Stephen had to try several times, but Ben was a natural once he watched Jack accomplish the jump.
Soon the door stood before them. Jack approached it first. He hunched over; it only came up to his stomach.
“This thing is tiny,” said Jack. He ran his hand over the panels. The hinges were visible, so he guessed that it would open towards him. Jack got down on the plywood floor and tried to look under the crack of the door. He saw only black.
“Let’s just try it,” said Stephen. “What’s the worst that could happen.”
“Plenty,” said Ben.
“I’m going to try it,” said Jack.
Ben retreated a step and Stephen moved to Jack’s side as he reached for the ornate handle.
“I wonder where you even get a door handle that size,” said Jack, stalling.
Jack knelt and put his hand on the door knob. His grip swallowed the small brass knob. “Won’t turn,” he said.
“What?” asked Stephen. “Let me try.”
Jack backed away and let Stephen try the knob. Failing his first attempt, Stephen handed back his flashlight and tried with both hands.
“It’s not like it’s locked,” said Stephen, grunting. “It’s like it’s stuck. If it were locked, I think this handle would turn. I mean it has a separate hole for a key — so it’s not the deadbolt. Anyone got a credit card? My dad showed me how to open a door with one.”
“Can’t you just take the hinges off?” asked Ben. He pointed at the exposed hinges on the left side.
“Maybe,” said Jack. “Who has the screwdriver?”
“Right here,” Stephen pulled one from his pack and handed it to Jack.
Kneeling, Jack started with the bottom hinge. The pin was stubborn, but Jack got it started by wedging the blade of the screwdriver below its head and pounding the handle with his palm. The first inch was difficult, then the pin popped out. Jack moved on to the middle one.
“Lousy security,” said Ben. “Almost too easy. Maybe we should think about this for a second.”
“Could be anything,” said Stephen. “Poison gas, a shotgun pointed right at us, a midget with a hatchet — what’s the point in worrying about it? Wouldn’t he have killed us by now if he wanted to?”
“Didn’t he just try to kill us with the level-two ladder?” asked Ben. “Why would he stop now?”
“Bah,” said Stephen. “Seriously, don’t worry about it.”
“I’ll be back here,” said Ben.
The top pin was giving Jack trouble. “I think the door is sagging,” he said.
Stephen pushed up on one of the left-hand panels in the door to take the pressure off the hinge. One more hit from Jack and the pin flew up and out of the door.
“I think it’s going to fall open,” said Stephen. “Back up a little,” he said to Jack.
Gradually, Stephen let go of the door and it stayed upright. Jack came forward and used the screwdriver to lever the door from the hinge. Groaning and creaking, it fell off the hinges with a loud thump, but stayed upright. Jack and Stephen scrambled back.
“Hey — don’t worry about it, guys,” mocked Ben from several feet away.
“Go open it,” said Stephen.
“You do it,” Jack countered.
“Fine,” said Stephen. He approached the door and gingerly grabbed the middle hinge. Stuck against the floor and latch, the door wouldn’t budge. He grabbed it with both hands and had to rock it several times to pull it away from the frame. “Jesus, that thing is heavy as fuck,” he said. With one final tug the door came loose and slammed to the floor at their feet.
Jack and Stephen stared down. Still keeping his distance, Ben couldn’t see what was going on. “What’s there?” he pushed between them. Instead of looking through the doorway, his friends were studying a map painted on the door. The door had fallen towards them, so it was upside down, but so was the painting.
At the bottom of the drawing a yellow star was labeled “Go.” A Network of lines branched out from the yellow star, twisting and sometimes crossing one another. Where they came to a stop, most of the lines ended with a skull and crossbones. Some were just an oval with two eye-dots atop a wide “X” in white.
