Temporary Monsters (5 page)

Chapter Six

“Huh. Karnowski has never noticed this door before.”

“None of us have,” Lenore remarked with great portent. She tried the knob. It didn't budge.

“If I may?” The Baron stepped forward and leaned against the door. It opened with a loud clang and the sound of rending metal. “This is why you need a vampire, despite what certain females say.”

Lenore did not seem impressed. “Lenny, if you would?”

Really? It was one thing to discover doors, another thing entirely to lead the way through to whatever was on the other side of them. But he was part of a team now. Everybody else knew what they were doing. He could pretend that he knew what was doing, too.

He led the way again, walking into a long, straight access tunnel built with gray cinder-block walls. Small lights, suspended from the ceiling every twenty feet or so, barely illuminated a painted yellow line that led down the middle of the floor.

Ending where? Lenny wondered. He guessed they were no longer under the building that housed Terrifitemps. Heck, they were probably no longer on the same city block. Did these tunnels parallel the subway? Or maybe they followed some ancient drainage system, or accessed some underground cables. Would the others know any more?

“A minute,” Karnowski said just behind his shoulder. Lenny looked back at the tall, skeletal fellow, who nodded his head solemnly. “There are no ghosts here.”

“I sense no creatures,” the Baron added, “living or otherwise.”

Lenore paused a moment before she, too, replied. “My readings are mixed, but I sense no immediate danger.”

None of those answers matched Lenny's questions. “Does anyone know where we're going?” he asked.

The others paused for a moment before the tall man announced: “Karnowski says to go forward!”

“Trust Ms. Siggenbottom,” the vampire agreed as he waved for Lenny to once again lead the way.

Lenny guessed the answer to his question was “no.” Still, the others had all done this sort of thing before. And something horrible had happened to Ms. Siggenbottom. And they were paying him a lot of money.

Lenny led the way again.

The tunnel changed as they proceeded. And not in a good way. Cinder blocks gave way to faded bricks that leaked moisture, creating patches of moss on the walls and small puddles on the floor. The lights became smaller and less frequent, with the occasional bulb burned out, leaving them in almost total darkness. Who would change lightbulbs in a place like this, anyway? Lenny decided he didn't want to know the answer.

And besides, they had come to a wide spot in the passageway, large enough for them to stand side by side. And on the far wall of the wide space in the hall was a second, very large door.

Karnowski pushed against the shining steel plate. The door filled the wall floor to ceiling, as if it might open on a garage or a loading dock. It looked particularly formidable, a solid sheet of steel with rivets forming an X pattern from the corners to the center of the plate.

The door didn't budge.

“Is locked,” Karnowski said with a grunt.

Lenny was not at all surprised. It was the sort of door that looked like it had to be totally impassable. All that steel, all those bolts.

The Baron stepped forward. “Let a vampire do his job.” He pushed against the steel with his supernatural strength. And pulled. And strained. And grimaced. And grunted. Lenny began to wonder if a vampire could sweat.

The door still didn't budge.

“Except when the vampire isn't up to it,” Lenore remarked with the slightest twitch of her ever-expressive eyebrows.

“Is locked,” Karnowski confirmed.

Lenny felt a tap on his shoulder. He looked behind him to see a half-hidden recess, lost in shadow. Had one of his team members walked behind him? He looked back and saw that all three of them were crowded at the far end of the hall, staring at the door.

A hand grabbed his elbow and tugged him quite forcefully back into the recess.

Lenny found himself facing a man wearing a mask that might once have been white. The man pulled Lenny close. The masked man's breath smelled of onions.

“Thank goodness!” he whispered. “I caught you before it's too late!”

Lenny wondered if he should call out to the others. Not that this frantic man seemed to be much of a threat. And Lenny was supposed to be the whole reason these surprises happened, wasn't he? In his new life, masked people appearing out of nowhere was probably normal.

He took a step back to get a better look. The fellow wore a white jumpsuit with red and blue piping. His head was covered with a matching face mask. If Lenny were in a movie, this fellow's clothing might pass for a very worn superhero costume. But in the real world it looked like something Evel Knieval would wear right after he missed a jump with his motorcycle. Maybe Lenny should call the others after all.

“Excuse me,” Lenny began. “I don't—”

“You are constantly confronted with the unusual, the unexplained,” the man hurriedly replied in the same hushed tone. “Is this any different?”

“Well . . .” Lenny tried to think.

The other man nodded as though Lenny had answered his question. “I
have
been associated with Terrifitemps in the past. Now, with the unfortunate turn of events concerning Ms. Siggenbottom, it is time for me to return. After all, someone has to tell you what's
really
happening!”

They do?
Lenny thought. It seemed every time someone explained the situation, he only ended up more confused.

The rumpled and masked man continued before Lenny could say anything at all. “You face great evil. You are up against the minions of Foo—an international mastermind of menace. Only so horrible an enemy is truly worthy of Terrifitemps. And others—including your Terrifitemps team—are watching your every move. You have the skills, even though you are only beginning to learn to use them. You are the leader. You are their only real hope. They need you to show them the way.”

Lenny glanced quickly back at the others. The three of them had gathered around the door and were arguing loudly about the best way to open it by combining a vampire's strength, the possible aid of a ghost or two, and whatever psychic thing Lenore might manage. So much for watching his every move.

“You are new at this,” the masked man continued. “It is natural to be tentative.” He pushed a single gloved, smudged index finger against Lenny's chest. “But you must put caution behind you.”

“I must?”

“It's what Ms. Siggenbottom would want for you.”

Well. Yeah, Lenny thought, that was more or less what Ms. Siggenbottom herself had said. It
was
better to have a sense of purpose.

The stranger nodded. “I know you'll find your way.” He turned away.

It was Lenny's turn to reach out to the stranger. “We can use any help we can get. Why don't you come out—”

The other shook his head. “It is best that I only talk to you for now.” He waved dismissively at the hallway beyond. “They are not ready for the truth!”

He took another step away. Lenny needed answers!

“Who are you, anyway?”

The masked man hesitated for a moment before he replied. “You can call me ‘S.'”

“S?”

The other voices drifted in from the larger corridor. The Baron was pointing out how it didn't matter if Lenore could see past the door if they couldn't find any way to open it.

“More or less.” S stepped farther back into the gloom. Something creaked behind him. “You are the leader now. I'll talk to you when I can.”

Lenny took a step toward him, but saw only the faint outline of a door swinging shut in the wall.

S was gone.

Lenny stared at the darkness. He would take control—just as Ms. Siggenbottom had wanted. What did he have to lose? Sure, this S guy was a little strange. But was there anybody around here who
wasn't
mysterious?

He turned back toward his companions. Maybe he'd tell them what had just happened. Lenore and the Baron stared at each other, much like they had done before Lenny met S.

“I have ages of experience. A vampire knows far more than you.”

“And is
any
of that knowledge useful in the real world?”

Then again, maybe he wouldn't tell them anything. Apparently the three of them were so busy arguing, none of them noticed he had been gone.

“Excuse me,” he began.

The Baron gave Lenny the briefest of glances. “You have chosen to join the discussion? I had almost forgotten you were here. Perhaps I was too hasty in my faith in Ms. Siggenbottom.”

“Job to do!” Karnowski barked. “Lenny reminds us!”

“There has to be some way to open this,” Lenore said as she stepped forward to take a closer look. “Maybe if you hit the bolts in a specific pattern.”

Lenny leaned forward to look over her shoulder. She poked at a few random bolts. Nothing happened. She poked them more vigorously. Still nothing.

Lenore frowned. “There's no way through.”

They seemed to have forgotten about him all over again. Lenny would show them. S would be proud.

“Why don't we go this way?” Lenny piped up from the back.

The other three turned around to look at him.

“And what way would that be?” the Baron asked, arching a single brow.

“Follow me,” he said as he turned back into the shadows. The door was right where he thought it would be. He had a moment of doubt as he pushed it open. What did he really know about this S fellow, anyway? He could be leading them into a trap. Lenny decided if he could cut through a bit of the Baron's smugness, it might be worth it.

“Wait!” Lenore announced. “Someone has been . . . nearby!”

“Was not ghost,” Karnowski replied with a frown.

“Possibly human,” the Baron added with distaste. “Too many onions.”

The three of them crowded after Lenny through the door. He couldn't see a thing.

“It is a small room,” the Baron declared. “It has a few—poles in one corner.”

“My powers discern”—Lenore paused—“a light switch.”

A single lightbulb flared overhead.

Karnowski was the first to say it. “Is broom closet.”

The poles piled in one corner were actually broom and mop handles. The wooden floor was scuffed, and dull-gray paint peeled from the walls. Directly in front of them was a normal-looking door—with a brass doorknob.

“Seems safe enough,” Lenore said as she gripped the knob with her right hand. “This door is unlocked. Let's see what this was meant to clean.”

Lenny followed the others through the door.

“Is interesting at last,” Karnowski admitted.

Lenny guessed that was one word for this. He thought the hidden door would lead them into a place more primitive than the tunnel, maybe a cave or even a sewer. Instead, they stood at the end of what looked like a hotel corridor, painted a calming green, with little brass fixtures high on the wall every twenty feet or so; fixtures that gave off an indirect illumination. The carpet was a deeper green, and, while a little worn here and there, showed no signs of dust or other debris.

Lenny stared down the hall. He and his team members had just come out of a sub-sub-basement. And the land around South Station was incredibly flat. So it wasn't as if they had walked to a hillside. Which led to yet another question: Who would build a hotel underground?

“Uh, guys—” Lenny began.

“Someone has been here recently,” Lenore said.

“Could harbor ghosts,” Karnowski agreed. “Perhaps we get information.”

The Baron wrinkled his nose. “Someone has been here very recently. And he was eating onions.”

“Lenny should lead way,” Karnowski said.

“His abilities found a much more civilized walk for us. . . .” Lenore paused, before adding, “and one that seems relatively safe.”

Still not one word about the underground hotel.

“But, guys—” Lenny began again.

“I sense problems with our team,” the Baron interrupted with a frown. “Our whole approach is wrong. Why doesn't Ms. Siggenbottom ever pick the charismatic one to lead? The matinee idol looks, the well-tailored cape with the tasteful red lining, the attractive ring with the ancient family crest, it all eloquently says ‘leader'! Let's look at the facts. A vampire's powers are well documented. Vampires are strong. Vampires are swift. Vampires are feared.”

“Vampires talk too much,” Lenore added.

“Vampires not know how to work with team,” Karnowski pitched in.

Lenny knew what the Baron was talking about. Until S's pep talk, he had never felt like a leader type.

Lenore sighed. “It's different without Withers.”

Karnowski nodded with a glance at Lenny. “Withers was front man.”

The Baron sniffed. “Even I must admit that Withers had his uses.”

“When people screamed ‘Oh my god, what is that?' it gave us a moment to plan,” Lenore added wistfully.

“Withers also very good at tunneling.”

It was the Baron's turn to study Lenny. “And our newest member?”

“He got us here.” Lenore arched her eyebrows at Lenny one more time. “It seems he'll be good at something. I'm just not quite sure what.”

Lenny had had enough. “Guys!” he shouted. “Does everybody realize we're in a hotel—deep underground?”

The other three glanced at each other.

“It only proves my point,” the Baron replied.

“What he lacks in experience,” Lenore retorted, “he will make up in talent.”

Karnowski looked straight at Lenny. “Is not strangest thing you will see today. Lead on.”

Lenny didn't know what to say to that, so he kept on walking.

For what looked like a hotel corridor, Lenny did not see all that many doors. One would occasionally show up on one side or the other as they continued down the lengthy hall, each door made of highly polished, dark wood. None of the doors even had room numbers.