Chapter #17Preparations and Machinations by: Nostrum   Even though you struggle with your sleep, you wake up thirty minutes earlier. For once, your father reminding you of setting the alarm clock paid fruit – the extra time should give you a chance to speak with Lucy and see how she’s coping. You text Scott to meet up at the "clubhouse" before going to school; when you exit the shower you have his reply, agreeing. You have enough time to catch Robert before he can take his turn in the bathroom. "Remember our deal," you tell him. "You help me smuggle the stuff out, and I’ll see what I can do."
"And you remember", he retorts. "Snitch on the deal, and I’mma tell Dad about it."
--
Lucy doesn't like the sound of your plan when you tell it to her when you stop by on your way to school. And though she understands that you and Scott want to disarm the professor, she still argues against it. "Do you both have to go?", she asks, and from the way her gaze lingers on Scott you can tell that she thinks that you should be the expendable one.
"Of course she's scared," Scott tells you gruffly after you trudge back out to your trucks, which are parked side by side. "And I'm glad. It means she's going to be careful."
Careful is one way of putting it. You and Scott found the basement empty when you entered together, and for a moment you thought she had fled during the night. Then, like a blonde ninja, she had leaped out at you with the crowbar and nearly brained you. You wince again as you remember the shrill yelp you loosed ...
"Though you know", Scott continues, and he pauses with his hand on the handle of his truck. "She might be right. We don't both have to go out there."
"I want to help", you stubbornly insist.
"Will", he starts to say, but you interrupt him with a lift of your chin.
"If you go in", you tell him, "I want to be sure it's you who comes out."
His eyes widen. Then he flushes, slightly.
"Blackwell's not going to copy me and send out a fake", he says.
"I wanna be sure of that. Just put it down to me wanting to be careful too."
He regards you, then shrugs. "Okay by me. I guess Lucy's story has you spooked, huh?"
No, my dad's got me spooked, you think. But you don't say it aloud. The last thing you want is Scott to start wondering if you're a fake too.
And as you drive off toward school, you idly wonder, Do the fakes know that they're fakes?
--
After school, Scott has to return to his house to pick up tools for the break in—rope, a bat, mace, other things—and you go back to your own place. Robert is playing with his phone on the sofa, but he drops it and hops to his feet when he sees you. He's already moved the bin down to the garage, and you tell him to put it in the back of your truck while take care of a few things inside. You look for your mom, and ask if she's got some old clothes she doesn't mind giving away—part of a charity drive, you tell her.
She blanches a little at the suddenness of the request, but goes upstairs to root around her closet. While she's thus occupied, Robert comes in and corners you. "Did my part of the deal", he says. "When do we start?"
"Not today. I need to find a spot where we can hide the stuff."
He shoves a finger in your face. "Remember, you promised."
"Yeah yeah." You push his hand away. "Cross my heart and hope my dick rots off." Your phone buzzes with a text—from Keith, but it's a good excuse to move upstairs to wait for your mom.
She's almost twenty minutes in sorting through her closet, and you have to tell Scott you'll be a little late when he texts to say he's on his way over. You're fidgeting hard when she finally comes out with an armful of clothes.
--
"What’s that?" Lucy asks as you haul the bin down into her hideout.
"More clothes for you", you tell her, for your mom's donation—some faded blouses, skirts, jeans, and leggings, and even some underwear—are balanced on its lid.
"No, in the box. Not even more clothes, is it?"
"No, this is the stuff you need to make masks." You glance over at Scott, who is seated nearby fiddling with his cell phone. He looks up with a jerk of his head.
"Get. It. Away from me." Lucy says, backing away. "I don’t want anything related to those damn things."
"No one says you have to", you retort. "But I need some place to hide it." You drop the bin onto a warped conference table. "Besides, maybe we could use this to help you get out of here."
"How?"
"Make a mask for you to wear. Disguise you as some random person. Then you can go out and—"
"Are you listening to yourself?" Lucy shrieks. "That’s exactly what Blackwell’s doing!"
"You have a better idea?", you yell back.
"Will." Scott doesn't have to raise his voice to fill the basement. He just has to stand up, put his shoulders back, and advance on you with a frown. Goddamn it, I could bounce pennies off his pecs, you fume to yourself as you back away. His skin-tight t-shirt leaves nothing to the imagination.
"Look, I'm just trying to help!", you stammer. "I mean, she can stay in here for the rest of her life, for all I fucking hhhmphgh!"
Scott grabs you under the jaw and forced you up onto tiptoes. He holds you there as, over his shoulder, he address Lucy.
"It's not a bad idea", he tells her. "It means you wouldn't have spend all your time down here, and we could use your help topside. You could even go spy on your double."
"Not if it involves doing what he’s doing!"
"Professor Blackwell? He's doing it to take your life away. We'd be doing it to get you your life back."
You gurgle as Scott continues you hold you up by the jaw. His fingers are strong and warm and a little rough, and you hate that you find yourself thinking how much Lucy would probably like it if Scott stroked her with them.
But she's too busy trying to argue. "And? What if I can’t take the mask off afterwards?"
"That’s why we’re going to get the book."
Lucy throws her hands in the air. "Fine. I don’t agree, but—" She collapses onto the table. "If you think it’s our best option." She glances at you, and winces. "You can let him go now, uh, Taylor. And thanks for the clothes, Will."
With a faint smile, Scott releases you.
You cast him a surly look, less for his assault than for the revelation that he and Lucy are now so intimate that she is calling him by his real name.
--
Twenty minutes later, you find yourself facing the same lone tree Scott showed you when you first tried to get into the professor's house. This time, though, you're more confident of getting up it. Scott has given you a pair of work gloves, which give you a tight grip on the tree, along with a wrench and a crowbar. Down below, he is also equipped with gloves, a wrench, and a crowbar of his own; a chain; and even a rusty padlock. He has also brought along a couple of flashlights
You scuttle up the bole, finding that climbing a tree is much like riding a bike; once you get the hang of it, you never forget. Once you’re up, you carefully aim the wrench at the window and fling it overhand. It shatters one quarter. You slide out along the branch until you can make the leap over to the narrow ledge, and with the crowbar you clear away the last of the shattered pane. You feel inside, flip back the latch, and push the window up.
You drop into what seems to be Blackwell’s bedroom. It's macabre in its own way. A vast bed under a billowing canopy, black and red wallpaper, and lacquered furniture and ornaments that gave it a Chinese feel. You don't stop to study it, though, but catch up the wrench, sheathe it in your belt, and scamper for the door. A skittering above sets you on edge as you step into the dark, second-floor hallway; gripping the crowbar, you sprint along on tiptoes for the staircase. Downstairs, you open the front door and call Scott in, exchanging the crowbar for a flashlight. He looks around.
"God, this place is creepy", he mutters. "It’s almost like--"
"Like Uncle Fester is about to jump at us." You chuckle; take away the greasy comb-over and the beard, and Blackwell would be a real-life Fester.
Scott gives you a look. "Whatever, let’s move. We’ve got no time to waste." You have the following choice: 1. Continue |
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