The Dark at the End

8

“How much farther, do you think?” Eddie said, panting.

Jack and Eddie were both in the hole, digging their way east along the dirt-filled subterranean corridor. They’d fill buckets with the excavated dirt, which Weezy would pull up on ropes and dump into the basement.

Jack had driven down to Spurlin’s Hardware and bought shovels, an aluminum ladder, lanterns, and the rest of the equipment. Then he’d picked up sandwiches and drinks at the Krauszer’s down on 206.

“We should be getting close,” Jack said. He looked back and up toward the hole in their ceiling and basement’s floor. “What do you think, Weez?”

Her face appeared in the opening. “If memory serves-”

“And it usually does,” Jack said.

“-you should have just a few more feet to go. If…” She hesitated.

“If what?”

“If the flood didn’t wash it deeper into the passage.”

Jack remembered the force of the water as it had surged against him back when they were teens. Quaker Lake lay to the west, just beyond the other end of the passage. That September, swollen by record September rains, it had broken into the passage, flooding it and nearly drowning Jack.

“If it moved even ten feet, we’re sunk. We’re going to have to find Tommy and company and pay them ourselves. No way the three of us can dig that far.”

“We don’t have the authority to do that,” Eddie said. “This Szeto guy must have cleared it with the Council first. No way they’re going to clear it for us.”

“Who says they have to know? We can-”

“Hey, guys!” Weezy said in a hushed voice. “Quiet for just a minute.”

Jack glanced at Eddie and they shut up. Finally Jack said, “What’s up, Weez?”

Her voice filtered from above. “I swear I heard someone upstairs.”

Jack didn’t like that. He climbed the ladder and retrieved his Glock from his jacket pocket.

“Maybe Tommy came back,” he said as he led the way upstairs.

Both the front and rear doors were locked, which meant nothing if someone had a key. But it had begun to rain about an hour ago and the floors inside the doors showed no trace of moisture.

“You’re sure?” Jack said.

Weezy shrugged. “I’m not saying I heard some one, but I know I heard some thing. Maybe just the building settling.”

“I think it would have pretty much settled by now,” Eddie said.

“It’s got part of a buried town beneath it, so who says it will ever be fully settled?”

Eddie nodded. “Point to you.”

“Just to be sure, I’m going to take a room-to-room look-see. Anyone want to come along?” Jack said.

They both volunteered.

The first floor was easy-only the kitchen, the conference room, the front room, and a few closets. All empty.

A different story upstairs: lots of small rooms-almost like a dorm-and crammed with the furniture that had once filled the basement. Took longer, but same result: empty.

“All clear,” Jack said. “Back to digging?”

Eddie shook his head. “I’ve got to tell you, I thought I was in shape, but I’m bushed.”

Weezy laughed. “I know I’m not in shape, so imagine how I feel.”

Well, the hour was late, and Jack had to admit he was feeling a little sore himself. Working out wasn’t the same as working.

“Okay, let’s knock off and see if we can find a motel and crash for the night.”

“And risk not being able to get back in?” Weezy said.

“We’ll get back in.”

She gestured around them. “Why don’t we stay here? Heat, electricity, running water, lots of rooms, no linens, but we’ve got mattresses.”

“I don’t know,” Eddie said.

“Come on. It’ll be fun. Where else can we stay? The Lonely Pine Motel? These mattresses here are ancient but I bet they’re better than the ones at the Lonely Pine.”

Jack said, “I can’t do anything in the morning without coffee.”

“I’ll run down to Krauszer’s for you. Come on. I’ve got an alarm on my phone. I’ll set it for an early start in the morning.”

Well, why not? They were already trespassers. Might as well become squatters too.

“As long as I get my coffee.”