Dangerous Designs Page 9
School slogged by. Storey was desperate to get home, and every time she checked her watch, it appeared to have stopped, forcing her to check the clock on the back wall.
"Yes, Storey, it's at least two minutes since you last checked. What's the matter? Do you have a hot date or something?"
Snickers raced around the classroom, gaining momentum until they became an outright laugh.
"She's probably heading to the coven for her initiation." That comment came from somewhere off to the left. Storey didn't bother looking for the culprit. Could be any one of a dozen people hitting at her because of her mother.
Snickers swelled.
Stone-faced, she slouched lower in her seat. To hell with them.
"So, if we have everyone's attention again," Mr. Morrison continued with a smirk. "there's going to be a quiz on chapters 11 and 12 tomorrow. Study and do well. Don't study, don't care and maybe fail. Everyone is dismissed." He waved good-bye before wiping off the blackboard.
Letting the class empty ahead of her, Storey took her time to collect her stuff. The last thing she wanted was to attract any more attention.
"Nice pencil. Can I see it?" Eric's long black jean-clad legs showed up beside her desk as she crouched to repack her overstuffed backpack.
Storey snatched the pencil off her seat where she'd set it and slipped it into the side pocket of her bag before zipping it shut. "It's a pencil. Nothing special."
Eric studied her face. "An art pencil?"
"Nope. Just a pencil."
He raised his left eyebrow. "Then why won't you let me take a look at it?" He waited another moment. "Where did you get it? I'd kinda like one for myself."
"Check the stores. I'm sure someone will carry it." Storey turned and walked out of the classroom. School had been impossible with her crazy trip running through her mind. She'd made it home from the mine that morning and had raced to her bedroom, the undamaged sketchbook still lying where she'd thrown it on the floor. She'd stood stunned in her open doorway. No hole in the floor, no damage to flooring even. She'd known it had to have been that way, but hadn't been able to reconcile what had actually happened in her mind. Finding escape in running away, she'd grabbed up a change of clothes, a bite to eat and had left for school without waking up her mother. She'd needed time to think. Time to assess what the hell had happened. And why.
All the while, she questioned Eric's opportune arrival at the mine entrance. It's not like he'd offered an explanation for his presence there at that hour. Then neither had she. Still, as much as she appreciated the rescue, his presence outside the mine entrance had coincidence written all over it. She didn't believe in coincidence. Ever.
He was up to something.
Shaking her head, Storey glanced behind her to make sure she was truly alone before racing the last leg home.
Her mother might be a little odd in the eyes of the town folks, but she'd done one thing right - she'd taught Storey common sense. Storey's instinct screamed about Eric. He was too good-looking, too interesting and too interested in her to be normal. He was...different. Good different or bad different? Too early to tell.
She knew one thing - she wanted to go back into the mine.
Apprehension wafted through her. Okay, so maybe she didn't want to go back into the mine. It was more like she had to go back in.
Home loomed in front of her. With it came a sense of awe. A sense of joy. A grin split her face. She, Storey Dupont, had a door into a mine shaft through her bedroom floor. She didn't know how, and she sure as hell didn't know why, but there it was. And she was going to go through it again - soon.
Well, after a snack and picking up a few things.
In the kitchen she threw back a tall glass of water and opened the cupboard. There were fruit snacks in here somewhere.
"Storey?" Her mom wandered into the room, dressed in lounging pants and a camisole, rubbing sleep from her eyes. Jesus. It was three in the afternoon. Her assistant must be watching the store.
"There you are. Are you alright?"
"Of course, I'm alright, Mom. Why?"
"Well, Gina called this morning and mentioned that she saw you walking very early this morning with a boy."
Storey glanced over at her mom catching the deep blue gaze - not accusing her exactly, yet not comfortable either.
"And I know you were in bed last night, because we spoke."
Storey turned back to the cupboard without responding. Great. Someone had spotted her and had tattled already. About Eric, no less.
After a moment, her mother continued, her voice forced into level casualness. "She was pretty sure she'd recognized you." She cleared her throat. "Did you leave the house early? Without saying anything? And with a boy?"
Distracted, Storey struggled to find an answer.
"Storey?"
Storey had to give herself a shake. "Yes, I woke up early and thought I'd go out for a walk. You were asleep when I got back, so I got ready for school and left."
"Oh. Uhm. You're not trying to exercise at that hour, are you?" Her mother moved closer, reaching out a hand to Storey's arm. She peered up into Storey's eyes. "I know you've had a tough couple of months since Jeff moved away, and I know you want to be like the other girls and all, but you're getting so skinny. I'm worried. You're almost anorexic."
"What? No, I'm not. Look, I couldn't sleep so I went down to the creek to watch the sunrise." She reached out and gave her mom a quick hug. "I'm fine. I eat. Honest." Storey hoped the conversation would die a natural death at this point. Her mom had spent most of Storey's preteen years trying to make her see the light in one matter or another.
Storey had always preferred the dark, which might account for her need to get back into that blackness.
She still hadn't figured that trip out. She wanted to enter from the locked mine door so she could have her exit ready and have the benefit of daylight inside. If Eric had been able to open it, she should be able to as well. What was the chance of the mine having power and working lights? Then, after checking it out thoroughly from that side, she'd try going through the floor again.
"I have to go out for a bit. What time is dinner? I promise, I'll be home and I'll eat."
"Around six. Where are you going?"
"Just downtown. Maybe buy a new pair of jeans." Like hell. She hated shopping. Still, she had to find some excuse.
"Do you need money?" Her mother brightened at the mention of such a normal girlie activity. She reached for her purse and pulled out a couple of twenty dollar bills. "Here. I can't think of the last time you asked me for some. You're such a good kid."
Storey knew better than to answer that statement. Pocketing the money, she thanked her mom and headed back outside. She started walking in the direction of the mall. Once out of sight of her home, she changed course and retraced the route she'd taken home with Eric this morning. She knew the area vaguely. When she came to the gravel road, she knew she was on the right track. In her mind, she'd half doubted that the door would even be there. Rounding the bend, she stopped in relief. There it was. She ran the last few yards. At the door, she looked around and frowned. This was too accessible. Surely, they could have made this entrance more secure? To stop kids from going inside.
She tried the door knob. Locked.
No surprise. She opened her backpack and pulled out a thin metal tool she'd gotten from Jeff months ago. They'd watched this cool TV show that had demonstrated how to pick locks. She'd tried it on her own house and had managed it with both a bobby pin and a credit card. This wire thingy was the best.
Bending down, she studied the side of the knob. This door had a different locking mechanism. She frowned. This might not work. She played with the steel pick for several moments, then switched to using her bank card. Still, it wouldn't open. Frustration mounted. She wanted in. Damn it. She studied the surrounding area.
Eric had gotten in. If he could get in, then so could she. Ten minutes later, she had to give it up. The damn t
hing wouldn't budge.
Hands fisted on her hips, she considered her options. Dare she go home and try to enter from her room again? With a flashlight, she should be able to find the door from inside the mine.
This method certainly wasn't getting her anywhere.
The return trip home was fast. She slipped onto the back porch and into the kitchen without letting her mom know. She hurried to her room. Gathering up a piece of chalk and a bottle of water, she searched for her flashlight. At the last minute, she snatched up her hoodie. Turning her attention to the sketchbook on her floor, she hooked her backpack on her shoulder. Taking a deep breath, Storey hopped onto the bed, stared down at the picture in front of her...and jumped.
She landed on the floor. "Damn it." Scrambling back up onto her bed, she tried again. Nothing. What was wrong? Surely, if it worked once it would work twice. So what was different this time? She considered this issue while standing on her bed, looking down. She'd been scared and angry last time, could that have made the difference? If so, she was getting pretty damned pissed just thinking about it now. She jumped. Nothing. Feeling like a retard, she climbed up and said, "Open sesame." Then jumped.
Nothing.
Shit.
This was ridiculous. "Why is it not working?" She sat on the edge of her bed and picked up the book and studied the sketch. She bolted upright. "What the hell?"
The door in her sketch was no longer open. Somehow, though her hand hadn’t touched a pencil to paper, the door in her drawing appeared closed.
She hadn't done it herself. Whatever had opened the door had closed the door. That's why she couldn't get in anymore. The damned door was closed. Reaching into the backpack, she grabbed up her pencil and tried to make the door in her sketch, look open. The pencil wouldn't touch the paper. She flipped to a new page. And tried to copy the sketch onto a new page, only this time with the door open. Except the pencil had a mind of its own and drew the door closed.
Storey sat back.
What was going on here?
Magic?
Satanism?
Surely not. Her mother dabbled in Wiccanism...could she have done something dangerous? Storey pivoted to face the closed bedroom door. The sunlight flashed through her bedroom window, brightening the room, making it hard to think on dark and supernatural factors in the face of so much lightness. She glanced back down at her book. The light shone on the picture, giving it an odd look. Twisting the sketchbook around, she flicked it up and down in the light. Nothing changed. Sunlight caught a flash on and off her pencil.
She held it up in the weird light. Though it was old and kind of ratty, the kinship she'd felt had only strengthened with time. It flashed again. What was that? She bent closer, trying to read on the side. She hadn't even noticed it before. She twisted it slowly in the light. There.
It was some kind of script.
Storey tried to read it. She twisted it around and around. The writing faded when not in the sunlight. In the light, the writing etched itself in as if by some unseen hand.
"So cool," she murmured. "What does it mean?"
And how could she find out? Grabbing a different pencil, she tried to copy the script down on a piece of scrap paper. It took several tries at holding it in the light to get it just right. They didn't appear to be words, per say, or at least none in any language she'd seen before. Numbers? Dates? She didn't know. Taking the scrap of paper downstairs to her mom's computer, she scanned it in, then dragged the image to her flash drive. Back upstairs, she searched the Internet for ancient fonts and languages.
By late afternoon, she'd found nothing. Damn it. For the millionth time, she glanced at her floor and wondered if she should try again. She decided against it. The time had disappeared on her and she didn't want to spend the night in that mine. Still...maybe she should. It wasn't that late. She hopped off her computer chair and walked closer.
"Storey? Dinner time."
So much for a quick trip into a tunnel, at least for the moment. "Coming." She put away her stuff and tucked the scrap of paper with the copied script under her keyboard. She couldn't explain why she felt the need to hide it. For the same reason, she'd renamed the scan as Chemistry Paper. That should keep people in the dark. Not that anyone but she would see it. Still...
She headed downstairs to dinner and dishes. That was another thing that sucked about being an only child – no one to share the chores with.
It took another hour before she could return to her room, telling her mom and her mom's arriving Wiccan friends that she had a lot of homework to do. She rolled her eyes at that lame excuse. When did she ever do homework?
Closing her bedroom door behind her, her gaze caught and held on her sketchbook. Dare she try again? The phone rang. Storey ignored it. It was never for her. She had a cell phone like everyone else.
"Storey, answer the phone please. It's for you."
Storey stilled. Who'd be calling her? On the house phone?
"Storey, did you hear me?"
"Yes. Thanks." She walked to the little stand in the middle of the hallway and picked up the cordless phone and headed back to her room. "Hello?"
"Storey?"
"Yes." Her frown deepened. She didn't recognize the voice. "Who is this?"
"Eric."
"Eric." She winced. Was that breathy squeaky voice hers? Yikes. "Why are you calling?"
He laughed. A deep sound that sent the butterflies in her stomach into flight. Damn. That was so not a good thing. What could he possibly want? She headed back to her room.
"I wanted to make sure you were all right after being locked in that tunnel."
She flopped on the bed. "What? Oh. Yeah. I'm fine. I wasn't really locked in."
"So what do you call it then? I'd planned on asking you about it today, except you left so quickly I didn't get a chance."
"Sorry about that. Not to worry, I'm fine," she said lightly. Silence stretched between them. She took a deep breath. She shouldn't say anything. She should keep her mouth shut. "I might go back there."
"What!"
She winced. "You don't have to shriek. God, you sound like a girl."
"Thanks. Like that's helping."
She rolled her eyes and sat up. "There's something weird going on. I want to check it out."
"And get locked in permanently next time?"
"Yeah, now that's one of those weird elements I don't understand. How could you have been just passing by? Not to mention how could you have opened that door? When I tried, it was locked up tight."
The ensuring silence was ominous. The tone of his voice dropped, giving it a dangerous edge. "You tried to open the door? When?"
"After school. I wanted to explore the entrance, only I couldn't open the door. It had a weird lock on it."
"I'd imagine that's to keep people out. Did you ever consider how dangerous it might be to go back to that place?"
"Uhm." She grinned. "Not really."
"Are you always this impulsive?"
She shrugged. "Yeah, maybe."
"I can't believe it. You need a keeper." Outrage shimmered through the phone
"Like that's going to happen," she scoffed. "And if you didn't have any other reason for calling, I'll say good-bye now." She didn't feel like getting chewed out by him any more than she did by her teachers.
"Wait. Look, please don't go back into the mine. It's dangerous. I don't want you to get hurt or lost."
Storey lifted an eyebrow and stared down at the phone. He didn't? How'd that happen? "I won't. I'm used to doing things alone."
"I don't care." Exasperation slipped into his voice. "Please don't go alone."
"I have to. There's no one to go with me."
"I will. I'll go with you."