27 - A Night in Terror Tower Page 3

  “This can’t be happening!” Eddie choked out. “There aren’t any dungeons today!”

  “Another doorway!” I whispered, trembling with fright as I stared at the hands poking out from the dark cells. “Find another doorway.”

  My eyes frantically searched the darkness. Off in a distant corner, I glimpsed a slender crack of light.

  I started to run toward it—and tripped over something. Something chained to the floor.

  It was a body. A body of a man sprawled on the floor. And I landed on his chest with a sickening thud.

  The chains rattled loudly as my foot tangled in them.

  My knees and elbows hit the stone floor hard. Pain shot through my entire body.

  The old man didn’t move.

  I scrambled up. Stared down at him.

  And realized he was a dummy.

  Not real. Just a dummy, chained to the floor.

  “Eddie—it’s not real!” I cried.

  “Huh?” He stared at me, his face twisted in confusion, in fright.

  “It’s not real! None of it!” I repeated. “Look! The hands in the dungeon cells—they’re not moving! It’s all a display, Eddie. Just a display!”

  Eddie started to reply. But the cruel laughter interrupted him.

  “You have entered the king’s dungeon. Abandon all hope,” the voice repeated. Then more evil laughter.

  Just a tape. Just a recording.

  There wasn’t anyone in the room with us. No dungeon keeper.

  I let out a long sigh. My heart was still pounding like a bass drum. But I felt a little better knowing that we weren’t trapped in a real dungeon.

  “We’re okay,” I assured Eddie.

  And then the door burst open with a loud crack. And the big man roared into the room, his cape fluttering behind him, his dark eyes glowing in victory.

  10

  Eddie and I froze in the middle of the floor.

  The caped man froze, too. The only sound was his harsh, raspy breathing.

  We stared through the dim light at each other. Frozen like the dummies in the cells.

  “You cannot escape,” the man growled once again. “You know you will not leave the castle.”

  His words sent a cold shiver down my back.

  “Leave us alone!” Eddie pleaded in a tiny voice.

  “What do you want?” I demanded. “Why are you chasing us?”

  The big man pressed his gloved hands against his waist. “You know the answer,” he replied flatly. He took a step toward Eddie and me. “Are you ready to come with me now?” he demanded.

  I didn’t reply. Instead, I leaned close to Eddie and whispered, “Get ready to run.”

  Eddie continued to stare straight ahead. He didn’t blink or nod his head. I couldn’t tell if he had even heard me.

  “You know you have no choice,” the man said softly. He reached both hands into the folds of his cape. Once again, he pulled out the mysterious white stones. And once again, I caught a glimpse of his dark eyes, saw the cold sneer on his lips.

  “You—you’ve made a mistake!” Eddie stammered.

  The man shook his head. The wide brim of the black hat cast tilting shadows on the floor. “I have made no mistake. Do not run from me again. You know you must come with me now.”

  Eddie and I didn’t need a signal.

  Without saying a word to each other, without glancing at each other, we spun around—and started to run.

  The man shouted in protest and took off after us.

  The room seemed to stretch on forever. It must be the entire basement of the castle, I realized.

  Beyond the beam of light, the darkness rose up like fog.

  My fear weighed me down. My legs felt as if they were a thousand pounds each.

  I’m moving in slow motion, I thought, struggling to speed up. Eddie and I are crawling like turtles.

  He’ll catch us. He’ll catch us in two seconds.

  I glanced back when I heard the caped man cry out. He had tripped over the same dummy chained to the floor. He had fallen heavily.

  As he scrambled to his feet, my eyes searched the far wall for a door. Or a hallway. Or any kind of opening.

  “How—how do we get out of here?” Eddie cried. “We’re trapped, Sue!”

  “No!” I cried. I spotted a worktable against the wall. Cluttered with tools. I searched for something to use as a weapon. Didn’t see anything. Grabbed a flashlight, instead.

  Frantically pushed the button.

  Would it work?

  Yes.

  A white beam of light darted over the floor. I raised it to the far wall. “Eddie—look!” I whispered.

  A low opening in the wall. Some kind of tunnel? A tunnel we could escape through?

  In another second, we were ducking our heads and stepping into the dark opening.

  I kept my light ahead of us, down at our feet. We had to stoop as we ran. The tunnel was curved at the top, and not high enough for us to stand.

  The tunnel ran straight for a while, then curved down and to the right. The air felt damp and cool. I could hear the trickle of water nearby.

  “It’s an old sewer,” I told Eddie. “That means it has to lead us out somewhere.”

  “I hope so,” Eddie replied breathlessly.

  Running hard, we followed the curve of the sewer. My light leaped about, jumping from the low ceiling to the damp stone floor.

  The light revealed wide metal rungs hanging from the ceiling. Eddie and I had to duck even lower to keep from smashing our heads against them.

  The light from my flashlight bounced wildly from the floor to the rungs along the top of the sewer. Eddie and I splashed through puddles of dirty water.

  We both gasped when we heard the footsteps behind us.

  Heavy, ringing footsteps. Thundering in the low tunnel. Growing louder. Louder.

  I glanced back. But the caped man was hidden by the curve of the sewer tunnel.

  His footsteps boomed steadily, rapidly. I could tell he wasn’t far behind.

  He’s going to catch us, I told myself in a panic.

  This tunnel is never going to end.

  Eddie and I can’t run much farther.

  He’s going to catch us in this dark, damp sewer.

  And then what?

  What does he want?

  Why did he say that we knew what he wanted?

  How could we know?

  I stumbled forward. The flashlight bumped against the wall and fell from my hand.

  It clattered to the tunnel floor and rolled in front of me.

  The light shone back into the tunnel, back toward the caped man.

  I saw him move into view, bent low, running hard.

  “Ohhh.” A frightened moan escaped my lips.

  I bent to pick up the flashlight. It slid out of my trembling hand.

  That was all the time the caped man needed.

  He grabbed Eddie with both hands. He pulled the black cape around my brother, trapping him.

  Then he reached for me. “I told you—there is no escape,” he rasped.

  11

  I ducked out of the caped man’s grasp.

  With another frightened groan, I grabbed the flashlight off the floor.

  I planned to use it as a weapon. To shine it in the caped man’s eyes. Or swing it at his head.

  But I didn’t get a chance.

  I froze in horror as the beam of light bounced down the tunnel—and I saw the rats.

  Hundreds of them. Hundreds of chittering gray rats.

  The darting light made their eyes glow red as fire. The rats came scrabbling over the sewer floor. Snapping their jaws hungrily, gnashing their jagged teeth as they came charging at us.

  Their shrill whistling and chittering echoed through the tunnel. The terrifying sound made my breath catch in my throat.

  The tiny red eyes glowed in the light as they scrabbled toward us. As they pulled their scrawny bodies over the hard floor, their tails slithered behind them like dark
snakes.

  The caped man saw them, too. He leaped back in surprise.

  And Eddie came tearing out from under the cape. He gulped in shock as his eyes locked on the charging rats.

  “Jump!” I cried. “Eddie—jump!”

  Eddie didn’t move. We both gaped at the rats in horror. A churning sea of whistling, chewing, red-eyed rats. A living tidal wave of rats.

  “Jump! Jump—now!” I shrieked.

  I raised both hands. Jumped.

  Eddie jumped, too. We grabbed on to the metal bars imbedded in the sewer roof.

  Pulling myself up, I frantically lifted my feet as high as I could from the floor.

  Higher. Higher. As the rats charged underneath me.

  A foul odor rose up, nearly choking me as the rats ran past.

  I could hear the tap tap tap of their long toenails against the floor. Hear the swish of their sweeping tails.

  I couldn’t see the rats in the darkness. But I could hear them. And feel them. They jumped at my shoes. Scratched at my legs with their sharp claws. And kept coming.

  I turned to see the caped man start to run back.

  He stumbled with lurching steps as he tried to flee the thundering wave of rats. His arms shot forward as if reaching for safety. The black cape whipped up behind him.

  The wide-brimmed hat flew off his head and floated to the floor. A dozen rats pounced on it, climbed all over it, and began chewing it to pieces.

  The man’s footsteps echoed in the tunnel as he ran faster. Rats leaped up at his cape, clawing it, snapping their jaws, and shrieking excitedly.

  A second later, he disappeared around the curve of the sewer.

  The rats scrambled noisily after him. As they vanished around the curve, the sounds all blended together, became a roar, a roar that rang through the long sewer.

  A roar of horror.

  My arms were both aching, throbbing with pain. But I kept my feet high off the floor. I didn’t let go of the metal rung until I was sure all the rats had disappeared.

  The roar faded into the distance.

  I heard Eddie’s heavy breathing. He let out a sharp groan and dropped to the floor.

  I let go of the bar and lowered myself, too. I waited for my heart to stop pounding, for the blood to stop throbbing at my temples.

  “That was a close call,” Eddie murmured. His chin trembled. His face was as gray as the tunnel walls.

  I shuddered. I knew I’d see the hundreds of tiny red eyes in my dreams, hear the clicking of their long toenails and the swish of their scraggly tails.

  “Let’s get out of this disgusting sewer!” I cried. “Mr. Starkes must be frantic searching for us.”

  Eddie picked up the flashlight and handed it to me. “I can’t wait to get back on the tour bus,” he said. “I can’t wait to get away from this awful tower. I can’t believe we’ve been chased by a crazy person through a sewer. This can’t really be happening to us, Sue!”

  “It’s happening,” I declared, shaking my head. I suddenly had another thought. “Mom and Dad are probably out of their meeting,” I said. “They’re probably worried sick about us.”

  “Not as worried as I am!” Eddie exclaimed.

  I beamed the light ahead, keeping it down on the sewer floor, and we started walking. The tunnel floor rose up and curved to the left. We started to climb.

  “There’s got to be an end to this sewer,” I muttered. “It’s got to end somewhere!”

  A faint roar up ahead made me cry out.

  More rats!

  Eddie and I both stopped. And listened.

  “Hey—!” I uttered excitedly when I realized it was a different sound.

  The sound of wind rushing into the tunnel.

  That meant we had to be close to the end. And that the sewer emptied somewhere outside.

  “Let’s go!” I cried excitedly. The beam of light bounced ahead of us as we started to run.

  The tunnel curved again. And then suddenly ended.

  I saw a metal ladder, reaching straight up. Straight up to a large, round hole in the tunnel ceiling. Gazing up at the hole, I saw the night sky.

  Eddie and I let out shouts of joy. He scrambled up the ladder, and I pulled myself up right behind him.

  It was a cold, damp night. But we didn’t care. The air smelled so fresh and clean.

  And we were out. Out of the sewer. Out of the Terror Tower.

  Away from that frightening man in the black cape.

  I gazed around quickly, trying to figure out where we were. The Tower tilted up toward us, a black shadow against the blue-black sky.

  The lights had all been turned off. The tiny guardhouse lay dark and empty. Not another soul in sight.

  I saw the low wall that divided the Tower from the rest of the world. And then I found the stone path that led to the exit and the parking lot.

  Our shoes thudded over the smooth stones as we hurried toward the parking lot. A pale half-moon slid out from behind wispy clouds. It cast a shimmering silver light over the whispering trees and the long stone wall.

  It all suddenly looked unreal.

  Without stopping, I glanced back at the old castle. The moonlight shone off the jutting towers, as if casting them in a pale spotlight.

  Real people walked on this path hundreds of years ago, I thought.

  And real people died up in that tower.

  With a shiver, I turned back and kept jogging. Eddie and I moved through the open gate and out past the wall.

  We’re back in modern times, I thought. Back where we are safe.

  But our happiness didn’t last long.

  The parking lot shimmered darkly in the pale moonlight. Empty.

  The tour bus was gone.

  Eddie and I both turned to search up and down the street. The long, empty street.

  “They left us,” Eddie murmured with a sigh. “How are we going to get back to the hotel?”

  I started to answer—but stopped when I saw the man.

  A tall, white-haired man, limping toward us, moving fast, pointing and calling, “You there! You there!”

  Oh, no, I thought wearily, feeling my body freeze in fear.

  Now what?

  12

  “You there! You there!”

  The man’s shoulder dipped in the big, gray overcoat he wore as he charged at us, limping with each step.

  Eddie and I huddled close together, staring back at him as he hurried across the empty parking lot. His white hair tumbled out from under a small gray cap. The overcoat hung down nearly to his ankles and bulged over his skinny frame.

  He stepped up in front of us and waited to catch his breath. His tiny eyes caught the moonlight as he narrowed them at us, studying Eddie, then me.

  “Are you the two kids that bus driver was looking for?” he asked in a shrill, high voice. He had a different accent from Mr. Starkes’. I think it was Scottish.

  Eddie and I nodded.

  “Well, I’m the night guard here,” the man told us. “There’s no one here but me after closing.”

  “Uh… where is our bus?” Eddie asked quietly.

  “It left,” the man replied sharply. “He searched all over for you. But he couldn’t wait any longer. What happened? Did you get lost in there?” He motioned back toward the Tower.

  “A man chased us,” Eddie replied breathlessly. “He said we had to come with him. He was really scary, and—”

  “Man? What man?” The night guard eyed us suspiciously.

  “The man in the black cape!” I replied. “And the black hat. He chased us. In the Tower.”

  “There’s no man in the tower,” the guard replied, shaking his head. “I told you. I’m the only one here after closing.”

  “But he’s in there!” I cried. “He chased us! He was going to hurt us! He chased us through the sewer and the rats—”

  “Sewer? What were you two doing in the sewer?” the guard demanded. “We have rules here about where tourists are allowed. If you break the rules, we ca
n’t be responsible.”

  He sighed. “Now you come out here with a wild story about a man in a black cape. And running through the sewers. Wild stories. Wild stories.”

  Eddie and I exchanged glances. We could both see that this man wasn’t going to believe us.

  “How do we get back to our hotel?” Eddie asked. “Our parents will be really worried.”

  I glanced at the street. There were no cars or buses in sight.

  “Do you have any money?” the guard asked, replacing his cap. “There’s a phone box on the corner. I can call for a taxi.”

  I reached into my jeans pocket and felt the heavy coins my parents had given me before Eddie and I set out on the tour. Then I breathed a long sigh of relief.

  “We have money,” I told the guard.

  “It’ll cost you at least fifteen or twenty pounds from way out here,” he warned.

  “That’s okay,” I replied. “Our parents gave us British money. If we don’t have enough, my parents will pay the driver.”

  He nodded. Then he turned to Eddie. “You look all done in, lad. Did you get frightened up in that tower?”

  Eddie swallowed hard. “I just want to get back to our hotel,” he murmured.

  The guard nodded. Then, tucking his hands into the pockets of the big overcoat, he led the way to the phone booth.

  The black taxi pulled up about ten minutes later. The driver was a young man with long, wavy blond hair. “What hotel?” he asked, leaning out the passenger window.

  “The Barclay,” I told him.

  Eddie and I climbed into the back. It was warm in the taxi. It felt so great to sit down!

  As we pulled away from the Terror Tower, I didn’t glance back. I never wanted to see that old castle again.

  The car rolled smoothly through the dark streets. The taxi meter clicked pleasantly. The driver hummed to himself.

  I shut my eyes and leaned my head back against the leather seat. I tried not to think about the frightening man who had chased us in the Tower. But I couldn’t force him from my mind.

  Soon we were back in the center of London. Cars and taxis jammed the streets. We passed brightly lit theaters and restaurants.

  The taxi pulled up to the front of the Barclay Hotel and eased to a stop. The driver slid open the window behind his seat and turned to me. “That’ll be fifteen pounds, sixty pence.”