Track of the Beast: A Brock Stone Adventure

13- The Secret Room

Stone grabbed Constance and pulled her out of the way as another stack of burning crates fell. The air was thick with smoke and he could barely see her. His eyes watered and his throat and lungs burned with every breath.

“It must have been Ward!” Constance coughed. “He’s closed us in here to die.”

“I’ve got an idea. Come on.” Stone peered through the thickening smoke and found his way to the back wall where he’d been inspecting the odd mosaic tile. When they reached it, he clicked on his flashlight and shone it on the bunch of grapes.

“Find the grape with the All-Seeing Eye on it!”

As mad as that must have sounded, Constance didn’t question him. She spotted it right away.

“It’s right here!” She blinked away the water in her eyes, looked again, then glanced up at Stone. “It’s a perfect circle and it’s recessed.”

“Push it and see what happens.”

“Ordinarily I wouldn’t let a man get away with saying that to me, but considering present circumstances…” She pressed her thumb to the circle. As Stone had hoped, it sank into the wall, and then the mosaic swung back, opening into a dark space beyond. “A secret door!”

They hurried through and shut the door behind them. The beam of Stone’s flashlight swept across a hospital bed and an array of vials, tubes, and needles.

“Is this some kind of laboratory?” Constance asked, moving closer to inspect one of the vials.

“I wouldn’t say a lab. No one has been cooking anything up in here. But it looks like a patient has been receiving care.”

“The sort of care you wouldn’t want the rest of the staff to know about.” Constance held the vial up and Stone shone his light on it. It contained a drop of viscous, emerald green liquid. “I think we should hold on to this.” She stoppered it and tucked it into her pocket.

“I wonder if Trinity found this place?” Stone said. And then a dark thought entered his mind. “Ward!” He pounded his fist in his palm. White-hot rage burned inside of him. “If he has Trinity, I’ll…”

“Calm down. He doesn’t have her.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because Junina saw her leave. She also told me why Trinity came here and where she was going next. And it sounds like it has nothing to do with whatever all of this is.”

“What’s the story, then?”

Constance flashed a crooked smile and quirked her eyebrow. “I’ll tell you after you find us a way out of here.”

There was a back door, which they managed to open by application of brute force. The encounter left Stone’s shoulder smarting and his ears ringing from the protest of the hinges.

They walked and sometimes crawled forty yards along a muddy, foul-smelling tunnel. It came to an end at the bottom of an old well. Rusty iron rungs set in the stone ran up into the darkness.

“I suppose this is the way out,” Stone said.

“You will go first,” Constance said.

“Good idea. I’ll go up and make sure the rungs are going to hold.”

Constance gaped at him as if he were addled in the brain. “That is not the reason.”

Stone scratched his head. “All right, then. What is your reason?”

“It is because I am wearing a dress.”

Stone couldn’t help but laugh. “I will never understand women.”

“That is the wisest thing you have ever said to me.” Constance patted him on the cheek. “Now, get us out of here.”

Stone began climbing, careful to test each rung before putting his full weight on it. Though the bars were old and pitted, they held. Rung by rung, he ascended until he reached the top, where a stone slab barred their way. He tested its weight. It was heavy, but he thought he could move it, assuming, of course, the rungs which supported his weight continued to hold. And then he heard something on the other side. A voice!

“What did you find?” Constance called.

“Quiet! I hear something out there.”

“Don’t order me to be quiet!” Constance whispered.

Stone didn’t reply. He listened. The voice came again.

“There, I done it. You owe me a silver dollar.”

“The wager was an hour in the haunted graveyard. You have three more minutes,” another voice replied.

Relief flooded through Brock Stone, followed by a flare of mischievous intent. With a powerful shove he heaved the stone cover aside.

“Who disturbs my rest?” he bellowed.

Terrified shrieks filled the air. Stone thrust his head out to see Alex and Moses fleeing through the graveyard. He threw back his head and let out a hearty laugh.

“That was unkind.” Constance had climbed up and waited a couple of rungs below him.

“An opportunity like that comes once in a lifetime. I couldn’t help myself,” Stone admitted. “But at least we know Alex is as frightened of ghosts as Moses is.”

“Men. You’re just large children, aren’t you?”

“Sometimes.” Stone clambered out of the hole and gave Constance a hand. “But I’m serious when I need to be.”

“Believe me, I’ve noticed. I’m just happy to see that Trinity was wrong about one thing.”

“What thing would that be?” he asked.

“Trinity always says you have no discernible sense of humor.”