The Book of Bad Things (24 page)

T
HEY MADE THEIR WAY
up the driveway more quickly than they had done that morning. Hal and Joey picked up long sharp sticks at the edge of the path and handed one to each of the others, so they’d all have a weapon in case they encountered the house’s sentinels. Their dead neighbors.

With every step, Cassidy felt a coldness creeping into her mind. She wasn’t sure if it was her body trying to turn off her fear or if the
beast
was already reaching out to her again. She kept seeing movement in the dark woods, doubtful it was all in her head.

One thing she knew for sure: The closer they came to the front steps of the old farmhouse, the louder the humming grew. It had started when they were about halfway up the driveway. Deep. Resonant. Bone rattling. Cassidy was certain it would get louder and louder, maybe so loud it hurt.

The doorway stood open, just as they’d left it earlier. The horrible smell had crept outside. None of them said a word as they climbed the rotting porch stairs. Hal’s mannequin lay in the foyer, disguised by the shadows, looking like a dismembered corpse. They paused for a moment before stepping around it, as if the thing that had attacked Hal the night before might rise up with its faceless head and black-taloned hands. Joey asked Cassidy for his flashlight and turned it on. The ghostly light illuminated the dusky space. Dust swirled around them, like tiny insects inspecting their skin for a good spot to settle down and chomp. The stench of the place was overwhelming — a powerful entity in its own right. Cassidy tried to breathe through her mouth, but this didn’t stop her from gagging several times as she crossed the room. She squeezed the straps of her backpack and followed Ping through the dark doorway by the base of the stairs. At the end of the hallway, they found the basement door hanging askew, off its hinges, the padlock lying once more on the floor, smashed bits of the wooden frame scattered around it.

Despite this sight, Cassidy felt comfort as the notebook shifted against her spine, knowing that the pendant was tucked safely inside its pages. The seal of protection. They only had to get to the heart of the house and then throw it inside.

Descending the stairs into the concrete pit, Cassidy wondered how Ping could be so sure this plan would work. Yes, the situation was similar to what happened in Gingerwich, but it wasn’t the
same
. Stopping at the bottom of the steps, the group huddled into the corner of the basement. Cassidy listened to Ping’s worried, uneven breathing, and she understood that none of them could be certain of anything anymore. Especially not here.

Joey swung the light up so that it lit the other side of the room. In the center of the wall, the black crevice stared back at them, slim like the pupil of a cat’s eye. The light rebounded off the floor, illuminating a few feet inside the space. The earth beyond the jagged opening looked like it had been carved out or melted away. The garbage and detritus that had filled the hole that morning was now scattered across the floor, having been pushed out by the animated corpses that had been hiding inside.

“Well,” said Joey, his voice shaking, “here we are.”

“What now?” asked Hal, holding up his stick like a sword.

Ping stepped forward, scraping her own stick along the floor, as if she were trying to let whatever was inside know that they were coming for it.

A
T THE WALL
, Cassidy felt a slight wind blowing past them into the hole, as if a small vacuum was trying to pull them forward. “This is what it wants,” she whispered.

“Of course,” said Joey. “That’s why we’re here.”

“No. I mean, it’s making this really easy for us. Too easy. Just this morning, a bunch of zombies were chasing us. Now, it’s as if that never happened.”

“In the library,” said Ping, “we all heard a voice telling us to
bring it back
. If we are the
it
that the thing wanted, I guess we’re following its orders. Maybe it’s pleased with us.”

“If the beast wants to make this easier for us,” said Hal, “it’ll only be sorry later.” He stepped close to the crevice, waving for Joey to hand over the flashlight.

“Shh,” said Cassidy. “Don’t let it hear you. Don’t even think stuff like that.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll think about ponies and sunshine. That better?”

Cassidy nodded. “Actually, yes.”

A moment of silence settled between them, like a stone dropping into an otherwise still pool of water.

Hal sighed, but managed a smile. “I’m heading in. You guys stay close.” Joey handed him the flashlight. Hal turned sideways and squeezed into the opening. Ping went second, followed by Cassidy. Joey brought up the rear, keeping watch over his shoulder in case anything snuck in behind them. He held up his stick, swinging it back and forth like a tail.

The tunnel went on and on, its floor sloping steeply into the earth. Their only light was the one Hal was shining forward. It glistened off slick black rock, catching every now and again on flecks of silica, reflecting like stars in a foreign sky. The earth smelled sour, like low tide and the rot of fallen trees and burning leaves, the tang of it stinging their nostrils the deeper they went.

Cassidy kept her hands on Ping’s shoulders, stepping where she stepped so she wouldn’t trip and fall. Eventually, the walls of the cave grew wider, the ceiling higher, not by much, but enough so that the air was breathable, and there was space to think.

With every step farther down, Cassidy only wanted to be back at the Tremonts’ house, half asleep and tucked under the covers of Tony’s big bed, listening to the sounds of her host family getting themselves ready for the day. She wanted to imagine what Rose had planned for her and Joey tomorrow — she’d be happy even if it were digging ditches at the side of the highway. Anything but this.

Every few feet, the tunnel turned slightly to the right, as if spiraling into the earth. Cassidy tried not to imagine how far down they’d traveled or how much farther they’d have to go.

The humming sound had grown. Down in the tunnel, its echoing sounded like a large animal sleeping with a blockage in its throat. Snoring. This might have been soothing if Cassidy wasn’t positive that the beast was wide-awake and waiting for them to arrive. This humming was excitement. Pleasure. Like a cat purring.

Hal stopped short. Ping stumbled forward. Cassidy managed to catch herself before the entire group tumbled to the ground. “What’s wrong?” Joey whispered from the end of the line.

“This is … kinda weird,” Hal said, his voice cracking. Peering around one another, the group gazed farther into the tunnel. Hal held the light so it reflected off an object half buried in the dirt several feet ahead. Cassidy squinted and the thing came into focus: a plastic baby-doll head missing its glass eyes.

Hal bent down, and Cassidy whispered harshly for him not to touch it. He made no move to reach for the head; instead he seemed entranced by what he saw deeper in the darkness past the reach of his flashlight. “There’s more,” he said. “Look.” Stepping over the doll head, he swirled the light up to the top of the tunnel, then back down to the floor. Ahead, hundreds of items were shoved into the many small cracks and crevices of earth and stone — water-bloated books, rotting clothes, toys of all sorts, sheets of plastic, hunks of rusted metal, boxes of food, bedding … and what looked like several weathered bones, possibly human. They walked on, and the farther they went, the older the items became — broken furniture, wooden picture frames, corroded tools. Almost all of it was coated in thick layers of dust and cobwebs, untouched for what must have been decades. The cavern was becoming what appeared to be some sort of funhouse tunnel, built by a madman. The objects made up the entirety of the walls, ceiling, and floors.

“What is this place?” Ping asked.

“These are its treasures,” Cassidy said, feeling her skin shrink close to her muscle. “The ones it’s managed to hold on to over years, maybe even before the Chambers house landed on top of it. We’re getting closer.”

The humming sound vibrated the makeshift walls of the tunnel, rattling glass and metal and plastic.

“What if you just leave the pendant here,” said Joey, “with the rest of this stuff?” The light hit his face from below; his eyes looked wide and hollow.

Cassidy stared into the ring of darkness that continued down into the earth. “Because
here
isn’t the right spot.” She sensed the thing listening to them. “We need to give our gift face-to-face.”

Joey shook his head. “I’m not sure that thing even has a face.”

They were quiet for a moment. The humming continued, and Cassidy understood that if they stopped here, it would continue for a long time.

“You want to turn around?” Ping asked.

As if to answer her, from the tunnel behind them, they heard a rustling sound descending toward them. The dead had come out of hiding.

“H
OLY …
”
J
OEY CLOSED
his eyes and sighed, his breath ragged, uneven. “This was a terrible idea. The
worst
idea.”

“We can’t stop now,” said Hal. “Not here.”

Cassidy raced to follow Ping even as the tunnel of junk began to enclose upon them. The deeper they traveled, the harder it was to step over the debris. Eventually, they ended up crawling on their hands and knees, trying unsuccessfully to avoid whatever looked sharp or jagged. They didn’t cry out but kept their pain quiet, as if they might still hide from the things that pursued them.

The humming was now so loud, it was as though it were coming from inside their skulls, like a terrible headache. The vacuum breeze that Cassidy had felt at the tunnel’s entrance was stronger down here, practically a wind pulling them forward. Every knocking sound or slithering resonance that echoed from behind pushed Cassidy along. Unwitting tears streaked her face; she ignored them and crawled on. The aroma of death and trash still swirled around them. Once or twice, she had to fight to swallow the bile that was creeping up her esophagus. That voice pulsed in her memory:
Bring it back
. She had no time to be afraid. No choice to turn back.

Rarely did that night when Lou broke down her mother’s door haunt her anymore, but now, his voice rang in her head, accompanying the beast’s. Everything that she’d recorded in her
Book of Bad Things
formed a segment of a dark tunnel in her mind, a mirror of her current flight. If running from Lou years ago had sent her into a downward spiral from which she’d only just begun to climb out, what would this little excursion do to her? Was this how people ended up insane — experiences like this? Was that how it had happened to Ursula? To her uncle Aidan, before her?

Something snatched at Cassidy’s backpack, the straps pulling at her shoulders, and she screamed. Her voice bounded up and down the passage. She twisted her body in the small space, trying to roll away from the thing’s clutches until she felt a warm hand on the back of her calf. “Stop,” Joey whispered. “You’re caught.”

She felt him reach past her, toward the roof of the tight tunnel. He released the fabric from what must have been something like a coat hook. Cassidy was free. Her skin burned hot; her lungs felt shrunken by half. “Th-thank you,” she said.

“No problem. Be more careful. And quiet.”

Grunts and growls sounded at their heels. The dead were catching up.

“Can’t you move any faster?” Ping pushed at Hal’s rear end.

Hal let out a yelp, then seemed to plunge away, taking the light with him.