The Hanging Hill

107

Sniffing and scampering, Zipper led the way.

Judy and Mrs. McKenna were right behind him. They ran back onto the set, past the ghost lamp, into the wings at stage right.

The monster who had been screaming behind the curtains was, thankfully, gone.

But the stage manager’s desk had been demolished.

Zipper sniffed. The desk. The stool. The floor. He circled a few times. Made up his mind. Headed right. Kept running.

Into the scenery shop.

“Zack?” Judy hollered. “Zack?”

“Shhh!”

It was Mr. Kimble. The janitor. He was standing in the center of the shop, slowing uncoiling cable from the drum on a mechanical winch.

“Where’s my son?” Judy whispered.

Kimble gestured at the hole in the floor.