“Look at the floor,” said Jack.
Black, parallel scuff marks marred the floor in front of the soda machine. Stephen dropped to the floor and pressed the side of his face to the tile so he could see under the machine.
“Help me pull,” he said to Jack. Stephen sat up, braced his feet against the snack machine, and pulled on the bottom of the soda machine. Jack pulled from the left side, about halfway up. The machine slid across the tile: it stood on plastic pads.
When they pulled the soda machine out past the faces of the other machines, they found a large hole in the dusty wall behind.
“Pull a little more,” said Stephen. Jack stood on the left side of the machine and Stephen on the right. They pulled until the machine hit the far wall, but that only gave them ten inches of clearance. Jack squeezed through the gap and then Stephen followed him from his side. The dust on the floor showed a path of many footprints — back and forth through the grime. The wall had an egg-shaped hole, about four-feet high.
They had to pull out their flashlights again.
Jack stepped through the hole first. He found himself in a dirty passage inside the walls. He shone his light around and took in his surroundings.
“It’s like a secret passage,” said Jack. “Almost like the attic space.”
Stephen ducked through the opening and agreed, “Yeah, just like it.”
The passage led off to the right and then turned right.
“We must be behind one of the other rooms,” said Jack.
Light came through a small hole on his right, about shoulder level. Jack crouched down and looked through it.
“What is it, another hotel room?” asked Stephen.
“Yeah, but it’s got a bunch of books in it,” Jack replied.
“Let me see,” said Stephen.
Jack stepped aside and Stephen put his eye up to the hole. It looked like the mirror of the room they had been in before, but from the back. At the far end he saw the inside of a hotel door. The room still had beds, but bookcases took up every other section of wall. About half of the shelves contained hardcover books and the other half had journals.
“I wonder why the light is on,” whispered Stephen. “Do you think someone is in there?”
“Where? In the bathroom?” asked Jack. “You can see the bathroom door is open and it doesn’t look like there’s a light on in there.”
“Shhh. Yeah, but maybe someone is hiding below this hole,” Stephen pointed down to the wall in front of him.
“Nah,” said Jack. “Let’s see where this goes.”
Stephen turned away reluctantly. If he pulled his eye away, he thought he might see someone looking back at him, so he backed up very slowly.
“Come on,” Jack called from up ahead. Stephen rushed to catch up and get back in the protective bubble of Jack’s confidence.
The next ray of light came from the left side. Jack smiled as he looked through the hole.
“Well, what is it?” asked Stephen.
“You look, but I think it’s the room we saw in the video,” answered Jack, excited.
“Really?” Stephen asked. He approached the hole cautiously, not sure he wanted to see what was inside.
Jack was right, it did look a lot like the room from the video: the tile, and the blue counters with white cabinets behind. But he didn't see a chair or a boy, and those things dominated his memory of the video.
“Could be, but it’s hard to say,” said Stephen.
“Well it might not be the exact same room, but at least it seems like that video was probably shot here somewhere,” said Jack.
“So how do we get on the other side of this wall?” asked Stephen. Despite the peep-hole, the walls looked very solid.
“Let’s keep going, I’m sure we’ll find a way,” said Jack.
They found no more peep-holes on that stretch, and soon the passage turned left.
“I bet the portraits in the red room are on the other side of that wall.” Jack pointed to the wall on their right. “And there must be another hallway somewhere that way,” he pointed back to their left.
“If you say so. I’ve given up trying to make sense of this place,” said Stephen.
Ahead the passage turned left again and they saw a brighter light. Through a rectangular opening, the light spilled down at a steep angle.
They could fit through the hole, but a piece of big wooden furniture blocked the way. Getting low to the ground, Jack saw the source of the light: a lamp on top of the piece.
Jack tried to push the obstruction. “Give me a hand,” he whispered to Stephen. Joining Jack on the floor, Stephen pushed and they managed to slide the heavy piece a few inches away from the wall.
“That thing must weigh a ton,” said Stephen softly. “Wait, did you hear something?”
“No, why?” hissed Jack.
“Then why are we whispering?” asked Stephen.
“I don’t know — because we can’t see inside this room?” replied Jack.
“But we’re moving the furniture. If we’re worried about someone being in there, don’t you think he would notice the dresser moving around?” whispered Stephen.
Jack snickered under his breath, but the situation didn't amuse Stephen at all. Stephen was mostly frightened, and a little exhilarated, but not at all amused.
“Let’s just push,” said Jack in a low voice.
On the next couple of pushes, they managed to synchronize their efforts and slid the furniture away from the hole enough to squeeze through. Jack went first, leaving his backpack and flashlight behind, and then moved the dresser away from the wall enough so that Stephen could hand them back. Stephen emerged and found himself in a room that looked identical to the first hotel room they had entered. The only major difference was the blank back wall — instead of hasty brick covered by a curtain, this was just white with a painting of the ocean in the middle.
Jack crossed the room, taking inventory. He poked his head in the bathroom and then came back to Stephen. “Looks empty,” he said.
“Want to check the TV?” asked Stephen.
“Yeah, okay,” said Jack.
Stephen turned on the TV and scanned the channels. This room didn't get the channel with the boy strapped to the chair.
Jack was distracted — not watching to see what happened with the television. He wandered into the bathroom and came out holding a towel. “Someone’s staying here,” he said.
Still flipping channels, Stephen had settled to the edge of the bed. It took him a few seconds to process what Jack was saying. “Wait, what?” he jumped up. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”
“Jesus, don’t freak out,” said Jack. “He’s not here now.”
“Fuck that,” Stephen objected. “He could be back at any second.” He crossed around the bed and then doubled back to turn the television off. He thought about it and then used the tail of his t-shirt to wipe his fingerprints off the remote. “Come on!”
“Let’s keep going,” said Jack. “Just to check out the hall at least. We’re only like two doors down from where that video was shot — we have to go check that out.”
Stephen couldn't fathom continuing on. He started to shake and feel naseuous at even the thought that the killer might walk through the door. “Look, we have to go. That guy could open that door and catch us. Who knows what he did to your neighbor kid, but I don’t want to find out.”
Jack began to protest, but Stephen ducked behind the bureau and moved back into the secret passage. He had almost rounded the corner when Jack poked his head through the hole.
“Hey, can you at least help me move this dresser back?” Jack asked.
“If you’re leaving right now,” answered Stephen. “Otherwise, I’m going without you.”
“Okay, okay,” said Jack. “Let me just put this towel back so he won’t know we were here.”