It’s just after ten, and the party’s in full swing. Flashlights are dancing in the glassless windows. I’m still not sure what I’m doing here. If Kat finds out, she’ll be royally pissed. Still, I need to know why she’s using the town losers as camouflage. And for the sake of my sanity, I have to find out just how deep undercover she’s gone.
A few cars are parked behind the building, and from what I can tell, there are over half a dozen people inside on the second floor. I let out a deep breath. It’s time to go in.
Kat and I explored the crumbling brick building on countless occasions over the years, so I have no trouble slipping in unnoticed and locating the stairs. On my way to the third floor, I use a trick Kat taught me: I stop and scatter a handful of dry twigs that I gathered on one of the stairs. I’ll hear them snap if anyone follows me up. I know I’m being overly cautious. Everyone avoids the third floor of Elmer’s. There’s a rumor that they found a dead body up here years ago. I have no idea if it’s true or just urban legend, but there’s no arguing with the wisdom of staying off the third story. It’s clearly unsafe. The boards creak under my feet, and the entire floor is riddled with holes that are hard to make out after dark.
I take my time and maneuver carefully to one of the openings, and then I get down on my knees. The hole is big enough that I have a good view of what’s going on below. The first person I spot is one of the Horsemen, a psycho named Brian. He lives a few houses away from me. He moved in when we were both in fourth grade and introduced himself by squeezing the guts out of a toad. His personality hasn’t improved since then. I always thought he’d be in jail by now, but he’s captain of the lacrosse team, which makes him invincible around here. He’s smoking something with West, the addict. Probably pot, though I’d be surprised if that was West’s poison of choice these days. He’s lost about forty pounds since freshman year, and he looks like he hasn’t had the munchies in months.
I crawl across the floor to another hole and see Jackson, Mr. Chlamydia, making out with a girl I don’t recognize. Probably a sucker from some other town—everyone in Brockenhurst knows he’s polluted. Then I spot Kat, huddled in a dusty corner, her knees pulled up to her chest. She’s nursing a drink in a Solo cup. Marlow’s right there next her, talking her ear off, though I don’t think she’s listening. Her eyes are focused on something far away—someplace she’d rather be.
I wonder if she’s back in the Otherworld ice cave. The giant avatar is gone. It’s just the two of us together again in our own private world. For a second, it’s nice to imagine I might be inside her head—the way she’s always in mine.
A snap startles me. Someone’s climbing the stairs and they just stepped right on the twigs I left there. The footsteps pause for a moment and then continue. But there’s enough time for me to scuttle into the darkness on the other side of the room. I end up in an alcove I had no idea existed. I can’t see much, but there’s something soft beneath my feet. I bend over and touch it. I’m pretty sure it’s a down sleeping bag. I guess someone was planning to get lucky up here tonight.
I peek around the corner and see a figure standing at the top of the stairs. It’s just a dark shadow with arms and legs. I can’t even tell if it’s male or female. For a minute, it doesn’t move. It seems to be thinking. Or waiting. Then it stretches out an arm and tosses a small round object. The thing sails in an arc through the air and then plunges straight through a hole in the middle of the floor.
“Hey!” yelps a voice from below. Whatever it was must have come close to beaning someone. The music below stops and there’s an eerie quiet.
A kid laughs. “What the hell?”
“What is that?” someone else asks.
The party has come to a halt, and the figure who threw the object is gone. I cautiously step out of the alcove and make my way toward the hole. I want to see for myself what’s going on, but when I peer down, the object is hidden from view. Everyone at the party is huddled around it. Everyone, I notice, except Marlow and Kat.
“Hey, get back!” someone says. I can’t see who said it, but it sounded like Marlow. No one’s listening, though. There’s an electric-blue light shining through the cracks between the kids.
“He’s right! Don’t mess with it!” This time it’s Kat.
Directly below me, Brian the psycho looks straight up at the ceiling, and I barely back away in time.
“Who’s up there?” he shouts. He doesn’t sound angry. He must think it was one of his friends playing a joke. But I realize I’m still in serious shit. Unless I hurl myself through a window, there’s no way to get out now. One-on-one I could beat Brian. I can’t take on everyone here.
I’m scrambling for cover when the whole building groans like some massive beast that’s been woken. I drop back down to my hands and knees, and tremors course through the floor. The tremors become a rumble and end with a crack and a deafening crash. A girl’s scream is cut short. I don’t think it’s Kat, but it might be. I rush to one of the holes in the wooden floor, but all I see below me is a cloud of dust. Then I hear the waterfall of debris and I know what’s happened: the second floor of the building has collapsed.
“Kat!” I shout.
I hear a muffled cry. Someone down there is alive.
Thank God the stairwell is still intact. I fly down the stairs, stopping briefly on the second and first floors to check the main part of the building. Both floors are almost completely gone. Everyone and everything has crashed straight through to the basement.
I’ve been inside the factory a hundred times, but I didn’t know there was a basement. There’s no time to hunt for the entrance, so I grab the edge of what used to be the first floor and drop down into the darkness. The fall is much farther than I thought it would be, and the landing knocks the wind out of me. I try to stand and the ground gives way beneath me and I’m suddenly surfing down a mountain of wood and bricks. I skid to a stop at the bottom and freeze for a second, getting my bearings. It’s pitch-black except for the beam of a flashlight shining from beneath the debris. I dig it out and shine it around me, illuminating a pile of rubble unlike any I’ve ever seen. A guy’s arm is protruding from the wreckage and I scramble over to him, clamping my fingers down on the vein in his wrist. No matter how hard I press, I can’t detect a pulse.
I snatch my hand back and fight the urge to vomit. My heart is pummeling my rib cage, and I’m sucking in dust-filled air that clogs my lungs. Then the beam of the flashlight lands on a swatch of copper-colored hair, and I’m there, digging like a dog, hurling boards and pipes and bricks behind me until I finally unearth Kat’s head and shoulders. She’s either unconscious or dead, and her angelic expression scares me more than anything I’ve seen tonight. I close my eyes and press my fingers against her jugular. Her heart is still beating. I dig even faster, and when I reach her legs, I realize how badly she’s injured. Blood is gushing from her left leg, and the spray splatters my face. I rip off my belt and tie it as tightly as I can around her thigh. When the flow of blood has been reduced from a gush to a trickle, I fish out my phone and start to dial 911.
Then I hang up.
I can hear ambulances. Multiple ambulances. Someone’s already called for help. I look around. There’s no one moving in the building but me.