The Smoky Corridor

87

Kurt Snertz raced down the staircase to the basement, taking the steps two at a time.

He had seen Jennings and his dumb little dog run into a room to hide.

Kurt chuckled.

You can run but you cannot hide—not from me!

Swaggering, he sauntered up the hall. No need to run anymore. Jennings was trapped inside, believe it or not, the janitor’s closet.

“Bad choice, lamebrain!” Kurt bellowed. “There’s all sorts of stuff in there for me to smack you with. Broom handles. Mop handles. Toilet plungers!”

Snertz shoved open the door.

The closet was dark, so he couldn’t see which corner scaredy-cat Jennings and his doofus dog were crouching in.

“Nice try, dipstick.”

Kurt flicked up the light switch. He saw shelves lined with cleaning supplies. A floor-buffing machine. Cartons of paper hand towels.

But no Jennings. No dog.

Then he noticed an opening in the far wall, right behind a set of shelves set at a screwy angle. It led to another room!

“Gee,” Kurt said, chuckling, “I wonder where wacky Zacky could be hiding.”

He made his way across the cramped closet, pushing boxes and coiled extension cords and cleaning crap out of his way.

“You are so dead, Jennings!”

He leapt through the opening.

Into another empty room. This one had a dirt floor and stacked stone walls. There were a couple of heavy metal-band posters taped up for decoration and a picture of that old Civil War geezer the school was named after. Shelves, too. Wooden ones. Lined with glass jars filled with moldy powders, rancid fruit, and pickled peppers.

“Gross,” Kurt muttered.

Now he saw a hole in one of the walls.

He went over to it. Got down on his hands and knees and peered into some kind of chute, only wide and deep enough for one person to crawl through at a time.

There was a box full of junk on one of the shelves. Inside it, Kurt found a miniature flashlight. He twisted it on. Shone it into the hole.

“Jennings? Is this your rat hole, you lousy stinking rat? Don’t make me come down there after you! Jennings?”

No answer.

“Okay. Now you are definitely gonna die!”

Furious, Kurt Snertz clenched the flashlight in his teeth and slid through the hole.