"Bye, Chester," he said.
As the Second Officer began to close the door, Will put his hand on the man's arm.
"Just a second, I think I left something in there," he said.
"What's that?" the man asked.
The Second Officer was looking directly at him as Wil brought his hand out of his pocket. He saw that the little red light was on: The camera was ready. Thrusting it at the man, Will clicked the shutter.
The flash caught the policeman full in the face. He howled and dropped his keys, clapping his hands over his eyes as he sank to the floor. The flash had been so bright compared with the sublime glow of the light orbs that even Will and Chester, who had both shielded themselves from it, felt the aftershock of its brilliance.
"Sorry," Will said to the groaning man.
Chester was standing motionless in the cell, a stupefied look on his face.
"Get a move on, Chester!" Will shouted as he leaned in and yanked him past the Second Officer, who was starting to fumble his way to the wall, still moaning horribly.
As they entered the reception area, Will happened to glance over the counter.
"My shovel!" he exclaimed as he ducked underneath and grabbed it from against the wall. Will was on his way back when he saw the Second Officer stagger out from the Hold. The man snatched blindly at Chester, and before Will knew what was happening he had gotten hold of him around the neck.
Chester let out a strangled yelp and tried to wrestle free.
Will didn't stop to think. He swung the shovel. With a bone-crunching clang, it connected with the Second Officer's forehead, and he crumpled to the floor with a whimper.
Chester wasn't so slow off the mark this time. He was right behind Will as they bolted out of the station, pausing just long enough for Will to retrieve his backpack before they both turned down the stretch of road that Chester had spent so many hours watching from his cell. Then they veered off down a side tunnel.
"Is this the right way?" Chester said, breathing heavily and coughing.
Will didn't answer but kept on running until they reached the end of the tunnel.
There they were, just as Tam had described them, three partially demolished houses on the perimeter of a circular cavern as large as an amphitheater. The rich, loamy surface was springy underfoot as they tramped over it, and the air reeked of old manure. The walls of the cavern caught Will's attention. What at first he'd taken to be clusters of stalagmites were, in fact, petrified tree trunks, some broken halfway down and others twisted around each other. These fossilized remains stood like a carved stone forest in the shadows.
Will felt increasingly uneasy, as if something unwholesome and threatening was radiating from between the ancient trees. He was relieved when they reached the middle house and pushed through the front door, which opened crookedly on a single hinge.
"Through the hall, straight ahead…"
Chester shouldered the door shut behind them as Will entered the kitchen. It was roomier than the one in the Jerome house. As they crossed the tiled floor, a thick carpet of dust was stirred into life. It whipped up into a miniature storm, and in the glow of the light orb every movement they made left a trace in the airborne motes.
"Locate the wall tile with the painted cross."
Will found it and pushed. A small hatch clicked open under his hand. Inside was a handle. He twisted it to the right, and a whole section of the tiled wall opened outward — it was a cleverly disguised door. Behind was an antechamber with boxes stacked on either side and a further door set into its far wall. But this was no ordinary door — it was made of heavy iron studded with rivets, and there was a handle by its side to crank it open.
"It's airtight — keps the germules out."
There was an inspection porthole at head height, but no light was visible through the clouded glass.
"Get going on that while I find the breathing apparatus," Will ordered Chester, pointing at the crank. His friend leaned on the handle, and there was a loud hiss as the thick rubber seal at the base of the door lifted from the ground. Will found the masks Tam had said would be left there, old canvas hoods with black rubber pipes attached to cylinders. They resembled some sort of ancient diving equipment.
Then, from the dark outside, Will heard a plaintive mew. He knew what it was even before he'd turned around.
"Bartleby!" The cat scampered in through the hallway. His paws scratched scrabbling excitedly in the dust, he went straight to the secret door, shoving his muzzle into the gap and sniffing inquisitively.
"What is that? " Chester was so flabbergasted by the vision of the oversized cat that he let go of the crank handle. It spun freely as the door trundled down on its runners and slammed shut. Bartleby leaped back.
"For heavens sake, Chester, just get that door open!" Will shouted.
Chester nodded and began again.
"Need a hand?" Cal asked, moving into view.
"No! Not you, too! What the heck are you doing here?" Will gasped.
"Coming with you," Cal replied, taken aback by his brother's reaction.
Chester stopped turning the crank and glanced rapidly from one brother to the other and back again. "He looks just like you!"
Will had reached a point at which the whole situation had taken on an insanity all its own, a random and hopeless insanity. Tam's plan was falling apart before his very eyes, and he had the most awful feeling that they were all going to be caught. He had to get things back on track… somehow… and quickly.
"FOR GOODNESS' SAKE, GET THAT DOOR OPEN, WILL YOU!" he bawled at the top of his voice, and Chester meekly resumed the cranking. The door was now a foot and a half off the ground, and Bartleby stuck his head under for an exploratory look, dropped low, and then slid through the opening, disappearing from sight altogether.
"Tam doesn't know you're here, does he?" Will grabbed his brother by his coat collar.
"Of course not. I decided it was time to go Topsoil, like you and Mother."
"You're not coming," Will snarled through gritted teeth. Then, as he saw the hurt in his brother's face, he let go of his coat and softened his voice. "Really, you can't… Uncle Tam would kill you for being here. Go home right—" Will never finished the sentence. Both he and Cal had smelled the strong pulses of ammonia rippling through the air.
"The alarm!" Cal said, with panic-stricken eyes.
They heard a commotion outside, some shouting, and then the crash of breaking glass. They ran to the kitchen window and peered through the cracked panes.
" Styx!" Cal gasped.
Will estimated there were at least thirty of them drawn up in a semicircle in front of the house, and those were just the ones he could see from his limited vantage point. How many there were in total, he shuddered to think. He ducked down and shot a glance at Chester, who was frenziedly cranking the door, the opening now high enough for them to get through.
Will looked at his brother and knew there was only one thing to do. He couldn't leave him at the mercy of the Styx.
"Go on! Get under the door," he whispered urgently.
Cal 's face lit up and he started to thank Will, who shoved the breathing apparatus into his hands and propelled him toward the door.
As Cal slithered through the gap, Will turned back to the window to see the Styx advancing on the house. That was enough — he launched himself at the door, frantically shouting at Chester to grab a mask and follow him. As he heard the front door to the house smash open, he knew there was just enough time for them both to get away.
Then one of those terrible things happened.
One of those events that, afterward, you replay in your mind over and over again… but you know, deep down, there was nothing you could have done.