“This way,” he heard Dave say.
At the base of the stairs, the corridor turned left ninety degrees. The door behind him slammed shut with a loud metallic bang. Will froze. When he heard no one behind him, he continued, feeling his way through the dark down a long endless corridor. Eventually a line of light came into view ahead at floor level. He realized it was spilling out from under a door. Will heard voices on the other side.
“They’re moving faster than we thought, mate,” said Dave. “Serious juju. You need to see this, so you know what we’re up against. Put the glasses on and open it.”
Will didn’t like the sound of that, but he put the dark glasses on anyway. The last line Dad had written in his rulebook came back to him:
OceanofPDF.com
OPEN ALL DOORS, AND AWAKEN.
Will closed his hand around the doorknob, cracked open the door, and peeked inside. A blinding white light issued from something in the center of the room. A group of people stood in a circle around it, focused on the object. It was hard to see how many there were—the light made it hard to see anything—but Will could tell there was something wrong with their features. They didn’t have human faces.
The round object they stared at hung in the air at eye level. Its surface appeared to be covered by a pale, translucent membrane. The circle’s edges glowed like hot embers, vibrating black, red, and green.
A window, Will thought. A window in the fabric of the air.
“That’s where the monsters come from,” whispered Dave.
Through the membrane, Will could make out a blasted alien landscape of crimson and ash. Black skies streaked with poisonous shades of lavender and green arced above a desolate, volcanic wasteland. Fires raged along the far horizon. A stink of sulfur and festering rot issued from it in blinding waves.
“That’s the Never-Was,” said Dave.
Will saw movement through the membrane. Something came around a cracked pile of rock and lurched toward the window. It looked like a tall woman, severely beautiful, naked as far as he could tell, her shapely breasts hidden by her long gleaming black hair. She reached the glowing circle and raised her hands to the membrane. Her eyes found Will.
“Uh-oh,” said Dave. “That’s not good.”
The creature’s hands pushed at the membrane, stretching it until they finally broke through. Other limbs, dark and slippery like tentacles, tore the remnants of the membrane away. The creature’s head and upper body slipped through, and Will saw now that her hair was as wet and ragged as seaweed. Her black eyes flickered and twitched, lids clacking, lit up with pitiless hunger. A foul odor reached him; Will felt sickness wash his guts.
“Run, damn it!” Dave roared.
Terror pulled rank on paralysis. Will slammed the door shut and sprinted headlong back down the corridor. Running in the dark, he heard the door behind him burst open and then the dry rattling slither of something sliding across the concrete after him.
Dave appeared ahead of him in the corridor and drew his hybrid gun. As he opened fire, Will glanced over his shoulder. The corridor was strobing with blasts of hot white light. Will saw the creature closing on him, her spidery limbs reaching for him, her head tilted back, jaws hinged wide open, hideous fangs—
“Don’t look at it!” shouted Dave. Standing his ground, Dave fanned the hammer of his gun, firing an explosive barrage of light at the thing. As Will sprinted past him, Dave called, “That’s three!”
Howling shrieks echoed down the corridor. Will ran through the stygian darkness for what felt like forever. As he finally turned the corner, he heard yelling and footsteps behind him, human voices—the group he’d seen when he’d first opened the door.
Will stumbled up the stairs, desperately feeling his way along the wall. Hissing filled his ears. He fumbled open the door to the locker room and scrambled through it, spikes skidding on the concrete as he turned a corner.
Two strong hands yanked him back into an alcove. A steel cage door closed silently behind him. He saw brooms, a mop and bucket, cleaning supplies.
And his roommate, Nick McLeish, in sweats, crouching beside him inside the door, holding a finger to his lips. Moments later, his pursuers burst through the door into the locker room and rushed by their hiding place. There were at least ten of them, moving so fast it was impossible to tell who they were.
The last person in the group came to a halt just outside their door. Through the gaps in the mesh, Will saw a pair of Adidas running shoes, black with three red stripes on the instep. He looked up and saw a hand reach for the doorknob. Nick silently pushed the lock button just as the knob began to turn. Whoever was outside rattled the knob, then moved off. The voices and footsteps faded. Nick covered his mouth with one hand, trying to keep from laughing.
“What’s so funny?” whispered Will.
“Dude, the look on your face. When you skidded around that corner, rocking the full Scooby-Doo windmill? Oh my freakin’ God, I nearly lost it.”
“They were freakin’ chasing me, Nick.”
“I know, I know—”
“Who was it? Did you see?”
“No, bro. I’m at my locker, you go flying past, and I hear them coming, so I pulled you in here. What the h-e-double-hockey-sticks did you do, man?”
H-e-double-hockey-sticks indeed. Will hesitated, then remembered Elise’s advice: If he was going to make it, he needed all his roommates’ help.
“I don’t know,” said Will, his entire body shaking. “I opened a door. And saw something I wasn’t supposed to see.”
“Well, give it up. What was it?”
“I don’t even know how to describe it.”
“Awesome. Which door? Come on, you got to show me, man.”
“No way. No freaking way, Nick.” Will buried his face in his hands.
Nick paused, then patted him on the back. “Okay, chillax, slackasaurus. Don’t drop a litter of kitties about it. We better slip you out of here. Before the townsfolk come back with torches and pitchforks.”
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SUICIDE HILL
Will followed Nick as they snuck out of the broom closet to an undersized door hidden between two rows of lockers. Down a dark flight of stairs, along a low, narrow corridor, up another flight of stairs, out another door, and they were outside the field house, on the side facing away from campus toward the thick leading edge of the woods.
Will gulped in deep breaths of cold air, hands on his head as he walked off the stress and tried to make sense of what he’d seen.
A window in the air … like the one in the hills behind my house! A window into the Never-Was … That’s where the monsters come from and that’s how they get here … burbelangs and gremlins and whatever the hell that last horror was.
Nick watched him the whole time, arms folded, leaning against a tree, rolling a toothpick around in his mouth. “What’cha doing at the Barn anywho, dawg?”
“I’m supposed to hook up with the cross-country team and Coach Jericho.”
“Jericho? Aw, man, that is tragic,” said Nick, shaking his head.
“Why, what’s the matter with him?”
“Ira Jericho’s a classic death-dealing crush-your-spinal-column hard-ass. And by the way, about said dude? He’s watching you right now.”
Will turned. A tall, rail-thin man in formfitting dark blue sweats stood forty yards away, where a dirt path from the field house entered the woods. Jericho wore his long thick black hair in a ponytail. His face was so bronzed it almost looked carved. He had severe cheekbones and a thin severe mouth. His dark eyes stared intensely at Will. He inserted two fingers in his mouth and let out a shrill, piercing whistle. He pointed a finger at Will, then at his feet: You. Right here, right now.