The Lost Door (34 page)

“Planes?” Stavic asked.

“Exactly. If we were on the heaven plane then we would be in Turmoore’s hell, and whatever was above them would be heaven. Each plane has its own heaven and hell.”

“But religion is all about faith. There’s no proof.”

“True, but all religions share a common thread, and all religions are ways of interpreting what we see and experience around us. Maybe in the shadows of our subconscious we have some innate knowledge of this because, if we have been moving up on some cosmic lift for eons, then why couldn’t some of those details travel with us? Almost like a computer hard drive… you can format it, overwrite files, but fragments remain.

“We know that people from Turmoore are cast down to our plane and that their conscience is absorbed here.” Willem nodded to the photo. “I think that’s what happened to me, because it was shortly after that picture was taken my father started treating me differently.”

Stavic looked at the photo again, the pinpoint of light. It was a good story, but it was hardly proof. He handed it back, said, “You said your memory is coming back. Why did you forget?”

“It wasn’t really forgetting. Remember Lilly told David that consciousness of those cast down resides in the hosts. But Lilly knew all about Turmoore, and she speculated her parents had ensured that. Don’t ask me how she pulled that off—I don’t know—but I do know we’re not supposed to remember. While the brain is a fantastic thing it is still fragile, and it struggles if it perceives competing existences. I don’t really remember Turmoore as a place but as a concept.

“Now, I don’t know if what David showed us is true—that DeMarcus overthrew Turmoore—but I do know there are doorways between Turmoore and here, probably doorways between here and the plane below. They’re supposed to be hidden, but we managed to harness its power. While we never found a way for a two-way path between plains, that doesn’t necessarily mean it couldn’t happen. I suspect that if DeMarcus did come after Lilly then he was pretty damn sure he could get back, because I seriously doubt that if he did overthrow Turmoore he would have left knowing he couldn’t return.

“So now you know as much as I do.”

Claire had been silent the entire time, but now piped up. “Not everything.” The men looked at Claire who kept her gaze straight ahead. “What does he want with my daughter? Why am I involved in this?”

Willem shook his head. “I wish I could tell you. We know why you were involved initially, but now? I have no idea.”

Just ahead Stavic saw the curve in the road with its accompanying yellow traffic sign. “Slow down,” he instructed. “Right after the sign it’s on your left.”

Claire slowed the truck as she approached. Even though he knew where the road was it still came up quick, the underbrush hiding it well. As soon as he saw it he pointed. “Right there.”

“I see it.” Claire slowed further and turned onto the road. “How far in is it?”

“Not far. Road goes right up to it. Can’t miss it.”

As the truck moved in deeper the forest pressed in on them, branches whipping the sides of the truck. It grew gloomy as the leaves blanketed them from the overcast sky. They passed the remnants of the fallen tree, went down and around, came back up. Claire slowed, the breaks squeaking them to a stop.

Below sat the cabin.

And parked next to the cabin was a red car.

“That’s the car that ran me off the road,” Claire mumbled. “I’m sure of it.”

Tentatively, she pressed the accelerator, and they descended into the valley.

* * *

Willem supported Stavic as they made their way toward the cabin. Willem had tried to convince Stavic to stay put, that he’d only slow them down, but he’d refused to let them go on alone without him. Something about wanting to see this through to the end.

When they reached the porch Stavic said, “Wait.” The wind had stopped and save for a single cawing crow off some distance, the forest was silent. Stavic stepped away from Willem, hobbled onto the single step leading to the porch, his boot clomping on the old wood. He pulled his gun and raised it, letting it lead. He tried the knob and pushed it open, the door swinging inward with a long steady creak. He stepped in and disappeared into the shadows.

Seconds ticked by, adrenaline coursing through Willem. He was ready to rush in to aid Stavic if he needed help. His tension eased when Stavic called out the place was clear.

“Is she here?” Claire asked hopefully as they entered.

“Empty,” Stavic said. “There’s nothing here.”

Willem patted his jacket pocket, felt the metal ring within. Of course! Where had he found it?

He thought back to his childhood, stepped back to the entrance. “When I was a boy,” he said slowly as he retraced his footsteps,
“I felt something pulling at me. It guided me around…” He was talking more to himself, trying to visualize his movements as a boy, trying to remember where he’d found the ring. The floor was in remarkably good shape considering this place had been subjected to the elements for decades. He turned, walked towards a couch. It had been right about—

“Here!” The excitement he felt was palpable. He patted the couch. “Under here! We have to move it!”

“I told you we went over everything in this place. There’s nothing here.”

“Did you move it?”

Willem grunted as he pulled and pushed the couch. He felt his back straining. Finally, when the couch was pulled away from the wall, he looked over the back.

Nothing!

“But… it was right here.”

Willem reached into his pocket and thought back. This is where it was; he was sure of it. Maybe he was wrong? Maybe there was no hatch after all, or maybe the ring had been dropped or…

His fingers grazed the necklace in his pocket and he felt a spark. Curious, he pulled it out, stared at it. Nothing special about it except… The pendant dangled at an awkward angle defying gravity. What the hell? He let the necklace guide him, taking a few steps to the side until it pointed down properly and crouched. The pendant tapped the wood, the chain curling up around it.

A square section of the floor cast a dim hallow glow, the hatch becoming visible.

“I knew it!” Willem beamed.

“Well I’ll be a son of a gun. Blends in well, I’ll give you that.”

The indentation of where the handle was supposed to be was caked in dirt. He leaned down, cleared it out.

“Do you have a crowbar in the car?” asked Claire. “I’m not sure we’ll get this open otherwise.”

“I have something better.” Willem reached into his pocket and pulled out the ring. “I took this when I was a boy. Never knew why.”

He placed the ring in the indentation, and there was a tiny
clink.
Willem pulled on the ring and, as if by magic, it was connected to the hatch. He pulled and the hatch opened silently. He peered in, a ladder descending into blackness toward a pixel of light far below. Stavic aimed the beam from his flashlight into the hole, the light swallowed.

“I don’t remember anything like this from what David showed us. What is this?”

“We don’t have Lilly. Maybe she had a means to bypass this.” Willem sat, dangled his legs over the side. “Come on. Let’s start climbing.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Are you nuts? You have no idea what’s down there.” Stavic glared at him.

“It’s not like we have a choice.”

Stavic, obviously torn, conceded. “Fine. But I’m going first. Move.”

“Now wait a minute—”

“No discussion.”

Willem knew it was a futile debate so slid out of the way. Stavic grabbed the necklace and held it up. “Think we’ll need it?”

“Can’t hurt to take it.”

Stavic pocketed it and climbed down.

Willem looked at Claire. “You next. I’ll bring up the rear.”

She didn’t fight him, simply slid her legs into the hole, and followed Stavic down the ladder.

As soon as he knew there was ample spacing Willem followed, the darkness consuming him.

* * *

It was a long climb. Stavic wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but they never seemed to make any headway toward the light. He began to wonder less about what was at the bottom of the abyss and more about how far a drop it was.

“How you doing up there?” Stavic asked.

“Doing alright.” Willem’s wheezing said otherwise.

“Claire?”

“Is now a bad time to tell you I’m afraid of heights?”

He stopped, looked up. “Serious?”

“Just keep moving.” There was a quiver in her voice.

The three continued to climb. For Stavic, past memories began to creep back. His life in Chicago, working undercover, Jennifer, his mother… memories buried in cocaine and booze. He shook it off, not wanting to relive them. Ancient history, better left buried.

The next time he looked at the light it seemed it was closer, and something was materializing from the dark. “I think we’re almost there.”

“What do you see?” Claire asked.

It was a white rectangle, maybe three-feet-by-four, and the ladder disappeared into it. “Not sure yet.”

He climbed the remaining distance silently praying to nothing in particular that if he did die that it would be quick and painless. His feet were on the last rung before they disappeared.

Willem asked, “What do you suppose it is?”

Stavic shook his head. “Only one way to find out.”

He reached down with the tip of his boot and tried to tap, but his foot went through, disappearing into the light. Stavic closed his eyes, breathed to calm his nerves, and reached down farther.

While he didn’t feel anything to stand on, he could feel gravity pulling his leg down, and there was a slight pins and needles sensation. He let it go and his foot bumped a surface. “I feel something, not sure what though. Wish me luck.” He put his other leg through and climbed down, his arms straining.

And then the strain disappeared and his legs took the weight and he was standing. Stavic pulled himself through the rest of the way.

At first he couldn’t believe what he was seeing, and he blinked away the flash of brightness that stabbed his brain. Then that, too, washed away, and Stavic was standing in a white room. David lie unconscious in a bed, and DeMarcus sat in a chair grinning. Next to him was a man in a red cap. Behind them was a strange photo of an empty wooden room, a dark window set in the wall.

Stavic turned back and looked at his own reflection and realized that that is where he’d come from, that he’d climbed out of a goddamn mirror.

“Stop! Don’t come down!” he screamed and tried reaching into the mirror. Instead his fingers touched its smooth cool surface. He pounded on it with his fist trying to let Willem and Claire know not to come through. Stavic knew it was futile when Claire’s legs came through. He hit them, trying desperately to stop her, to warn her of the trap. Claire pulled herself through.

“What the hell?” she said. “Where’s Emily?”

Willem dropped out next, staggered, and Stavic helped balance him.

“So predictable,” DeMarcus said and laughed.

* * *

Willem was having trouble keeping focus. He felt like vomiting. “Dad?” he managed say.

The man in the red cap regarded him.

“No longer I’m afraid,” DeMarcus said.

Willem ignored him and addressed his father. “It’s really you. But… how? Why?”

Yet his father only stared at him and said nothing. But… was that a glimmer of recognition?

“Where’s my daughter?” Claire asked.

That cool head movement and DeMarcus focused on Claire. “She’s here.”

“Where?” she asked.

DeMarcus breathed deeply as if enjoying the scent of a flowering garden. “What do you think this place is?” He passed his hand through the air.

“The doorway to Turmoore
,
” Willem offered.

“That it is.” DeMarcus nodded with approval. A discomforting notion, Willem thought. “Well, more a bubble, I suppose, between Turmoore and your… place.” The final word seeped of disdain. “It’s a watchtower, a moat, a blockade. It’s all these things and more, all for a single purpose: to stop the re-entry to perfection. Do you know why?” No one responded. “Because those cast down are sullied and unworthy of living in it.”

“I just want my daughter back.” Claire’s voice quivered ever so slightly.

DeMarcus stood in one fluid movement and, for the first time, his expression faltered. “That’s not an option. You see, I need her to return home. Her and one other.”

“Wh… why?” Claire stammered.

“Turmoore is better than your place. It’s above, not below. Layer upon layer upon layer. In the grand scheme of things I know not where we lay, only that they exist.”

“We know all this,” Willem interrupted. “David told us.” He continued to watch his father trying to understand why he was in league with a madman.

“David?” he asked with a glance at the old unconscious man. “Oh. I see.” He turned back, seemingly displeased. “So you understand the two never connect as was its design. The synergy held in tandem by some invisible force. Co-existing but never influencing directly, only indirectly. You die you move up to the next floor. Good, bad, it doesn’t matter. It’s the same on all levels. A constant for all.”