Balenger entered cautiously, his light scanning a massive utility room. After the smothering space of the tunnel, the open area was welcome. It felt good to be able to lift his head, to straighten his back and neck. Switches, levers, dials, and gauges occupied the shadowy wall to the right. Pipes filled the murky ceiling and the remaining walls. Huge metal cylinders stood in the center. Balenger assumed they were water heaters. The chill area smelled of metal and old concrete.
"Carlisle kept updating the infrastructure," the professor explained. "This is from the 1960s."
Aiming his headlamp, Rick scanned the levers and other devices. "Impressive. He certainly was organized. Everything's so clearly labeled, an idiot would know what to do. The hot water system is isolated for the different floors. So is the air-conditioning. Here are switches for the swimming pooclass="underline" heater, pump, purge."
Balenger searched behind the boilers.
"A door's over here." Vinnie crossed the room. "Probably leads into the main part of the hotel."
"Hey, guys!" Cora yelled.
They turned, their lights swiveling.
"Maybe this is one of those Venus-Mars things, but that's really going to bother me." Cora aimed her light toward the open door and the tunnel they'd left. "If that five-legged cat gets in here, or those rats with two tails…"
Vinnie chuckled. He and Rick shoved the door closed. Specks of rust dropped from creaky hinges.
"Now let's see what's beyond the other door," the professor said.
They crossed the utility room. After Rick tugged the next door open, they stood spellbound, their lights revealing something that rippled.
"Amazing," Balenger said after a moment, cold humidity drifting over him.
Vinnie flashed another photograph.
"For heaven's sake, they didn't empty it." Cora stepped closer.
The reflection of their lights shimmered across their faces.
"But after all these years, wouldn't the water have evaporated?" Rick asked.
Something plopped on Balenger's hard hat. Worried about bats, he jerked his light toward the ceiling, but all he saw were beads of moisture. Another drop splashed on him.
"As long as the doors seal the area, there's no place for the evaporation to go," the professor said. "The water's trapped in here. Feel how humid the air is."
"Dank is more like it," Balenger said.
Cora shivered. "Cold."
What they stared at was the hotel's swimming pool. To their astonishment, it still contained water, green from algae growing in it.
And it rippled.
Vinnie's camera flashed.
"Something's in the water," Cora said.
"Probably an animal that heard us coming and jumped in to hide," Conklin said.
"But what kind?"
The algae kept rippling.
"A muskrat perhaps."
"What's the difference between a rat and a muskrat?"
"A muskrat is bigger."
"Just what I needed to hear."
Rick found a slimy pole on the floor. It had a net at the end: a pool skimmer. "I could poke around in the water and see what I catch."
"You mean what drags you in," Cora said.
Vinnie laughed.
"No, I'm serious," Cora said. "This door was closed. So is the one on the other side of the pool." Her light streaked across the scum and indicated the other door. "So how did that thing-whatever it is-get in here?"
Lights flashed in all directions, searching for another entrance.
"Rats can work their way into almost any place," the professor said. "They're determined and tough enough to chew through concrete blocks."
"And what in God's name is this stuff?" Balenger pointed toward what resembled a white carpet on a wall.
"Mold," Cora said.
The scummy water rippled again.
"Rick, let me know when you find the creature from the green lagoon."
"You're leaving?"
"I've run into enough rats for one night. I'm a historian, not a biologist. If I stay here longer, I'll grow moss."
While Cora rounded the pool, Vinnie took another picture. With an unnerving clatter-"Ooops. Sorry."- Rick dropped the pole. Everyone followed. Trying to stay balanced on the slippery tiles, they joined Cora at a set of swinging doors.
Rick pressed against a rusted metal plate on one of them. With the now familiar squeak and scrape, the door yielded.
11
They entered a cobwebbed corridor in which a door on each side had a tarnished plaque with the word GENTLEMEN engraved on one and LADIES on the other. Farther along was a dusty counter behind which rubber sandals were scattered.
"When people abandon a house, they usually take everything with them. It's their stuff, and they want to keep it," Rick told Balenger. "But when it comes to closing a hospital, a factory, a department store, an office building, or a hotel, everybody's in charge, and nobody is. It's assumed that somebody else will take care of the final details, but it often doesn't happen."
They passed elevator doors whose metal was rusted. Stairs led up.
Conklin pointed. "Take a close look at the stairs."
"Marble," Vinnie said, then turned toward Balenger. "Most places we infiltrate, the floors have nails poking through. That's why we warned you to wear thick-soled boots."
At the top, they came to another pair of swinging doors.
"Looks like mahogany," Cora said. "A sturdy wood. Even so, these doors are rotting." She indicated a crumbling area at the bottom of each.
When she pushed at the doors, they didn't budge.
"There's no lock," Rick said, puzzled. "Something on the other side must be jamming them." He used his knife to pry one of the doors in his direction.
The doors suddenly flew open. With a crash, Rick hurtled back, slamming into Balenger, knocking him down. Several things cracked and snapped, cascading. Cora screamed. Large objects banged around them, burying Balenger.
In darkness, he felt something blunt and hard jabbing into his chest and stomach. A mushy, fetid substance weighed against his face. Heart racing, he struggled to free himself. He heard Rick cursing. He heard wood breaking, as if it were being thrown against a wall. Abruptly, he saw the light from headlamps and pushed something heavy with rotting fabric off him.
"Rick! Are you all right?" Cora screamed.
Coughing, struggling to his feet, Balenger saw Cora yank at a tangle of large objects, hauling them off Rick.
Vinnie's hands were on Balenger, helping him up. "Are you hurt?"
"No." Balenger felt nauseous from the odor of what had pressed on his face. He tried to wipe away the smell. "But what-"
"Rick?" Cora pulled him up.
"I'm okay. I just-"
"What fell on us?" Balenger demanded.
"Furniture," Conklin said.
"Furniture?"
"Broken tables and chairs. Sections of sofas."
An animal made a terrible screeching sound. Balenger saw a rat scurry from a hole in a decaying sofa. A second rat streaked after it. A third. Balenger's stomach thrust bile to his mouth.
"Somehow, all kinds of banged-up, shattered furniture got piled against that door," Conklin said. "When Rick opened it, the movement was enough to dislodge everything."
Balenger rubbed his aching chest where what he now realized was a table leg had jammed into him. Adrenaline shot through him. "But how did the furniture get broken? How did it get thrown there?"
"Maybe a crew started to do some renovating and was told to quit," Conklin suggested. "These old buildings have all kinds of puzzles. In that abandoned department store in Buffalo, we found a half-dozen fully dressed mannequins sitting in a circle of chairs as if having a conversation. One of them even had a coffee cup in its hand."
"That was somebody's idea of a practical joke." Balenger scanned the darkness. "Fine. So is this a practical joke? Is somebody telling us to stay away?"
"Whatever it is," Vinnie said, "it happened a long time ago." He showed Balenger a broken table leg. "See this break?"