Curse of the Spider King (35 page)

“We have to go in there?” Tommy asked.

“I'm afraid so,” said Mrs. Galdarro. “The portal is there.”

Did she have to use the word
afraid
?
“I've never seen a place so . . . haunted-looking,” said Tommy. “Couldn't you have put the portal in a playground or something?”

“We had no control over the placement of these portals,” she replied, “What little we know about the portals we learned from Sarron Froth. The Spider King uses them to take slaves from Earth. It was the Spider King who put them in out-of-the-way places such as this.”

“Slaves?”

“Another time, Tommy. There is too much to explain now.”

Waves of wind swept through the knee-high grass as Mr. Charlie led the way across the deserted campus. They entered through a side door at one of the roofed ports of the main building. Once past a set of double doors hanging loosely from their frame, they stood at the end of a long hallway. Floor tiles that had once fit snugly into tight rows were cracked or shattered and scattered about the hall. Paint peeled on every wall. Water damage and rot had eaten jagged holes the length of the ceiling, and plaster dangled down like patches of old skin.

“Mr. Charlie,” whispered Tommy, “could you take out the tools now?”

Shadow and pale light alternated up the entire hall. Doors from hospital rooms—some open, some closed—made Tommy wince as he walked by. Every creep, demon, zombie, and monster from every horror movie Tommy had ever seen waltzed into his imagination. At any moment, something would surely leap out from behind one of those doors.

Tommy positioned himself between Mrs. Galdarro and Mr. Charlie. They passed broken-out windows where the vines they'd seen outside had already penetrated and snaked into the hall.

Their footsteps did not echo, but there was so much debris on the floor that each new footfall cracked or crushed something. They certainly weren't going to sneak up on anything. Through another set of doors and they came to an inky, black stairwell. “A little light, Charlie?”

“Yes, ma'am,” he said.

In a moment, he had a brilliant flashlight in his hand. He gave another to Mrs. Galdarro and one to Tommy. Obscene graffiti lined the stairwell. Tommy averted his eyes and stuck close to Mr. Charlie. At the bottom of the stairs, the double doors opened into a wide ward. A dozen small bed frames were tossed all about the floor as if a major earthquake had once hit the hospital.

“How much farther?” Tommy whispered.

“Not far,” Mrs. Galdarro replied. “After this chamber, we've a short hall past several mostly empty rooms. The portal is in the strangest room in this building.”

Tommy couldn't imagine anything stranger or creepier than what he'd already seen of the abandoned hospital. “What do you mean,
strange?
” he asked.

“Bunch of drawers,” said Mr. Charlie.

“A little hard to explain,” said Mrs. Galdarro.

They said no more as they passed out of the ward with the beds. Something wet dripped onto Tommy's arm. He shuddered and shined the light; a drop of discolored water trailed across his forearm. Tommy wiped it on his pants leg and shined his flashlight up at the ceiling. Gray and black stains blossomed sickly in the midst of the rotting ceiling tiles.
Disgusting
, Tommy thought as he walked along, continuing to stare at the blotches on the ceiling.

“TOMMY, WATCH OUT!!” Mr. Charlie grabbed Tommy by the arm just below the shoulder and kept him from taking another step.

Tommy's heart pounded so hard he thought his ears would pop. Mr. Charlie shined his light down at Tommy's feet. Part of the floor had torn away, revealing a gaping mouth into darkness. Tommy saw the water far down below, foul and green in the flashlight beam.

“I'm sorry about that, Tommy,” said Mrs. Galdarro. “This hole wasn't nearly as large the last time I came this way.”

Tommy blinked in the dim light. His breathing and heart rate made it all too clear what would have happened, if he'd taken just one more step.

The rest of the hall went without incident. They turned a corner, went through a wide door, and entered a square room. “This is the room,” said Mr. Charlie. “See all the drawers?”

Tommy turned his beam on the walls of the chamber. There were square openings in vertical sets of three on either side of the chamber. Each opening had a thick door hanging open and inside a long tray, almost like a deep pan. There was soot or ash all over the drawers and the floor. Tommy suddenly realized what this room had been.

33

No Exit

“WHERE'S THE portal?” Tommy asked, staring at the abandoned hospital's crematory. He was convinced there were spiders—or worse things—all over him, and his skin crawled. Tommy wanted out of there, and fast.

“It is on the far wall,” Mrs. Galdarro replied. They walked across the chamber to the wall. “Charlie, put the light on the wall for me.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

Mrs. Galdarro said, “Tommy, as you pass into the portal, you will feel very strange sensations on your skin—like running through millions of feathers. But there is also a steady current, like your electricity . . . not strong enough to shock or harm you, but enough to feel its presence. I will go first.” She took a step forward and stopped. “Wait, this isn't . . .” She reached up and touched the stone of the wall.

“Elle, look,” said Mr. Charlie, shining his light onto the floor. There were footprints in the dust and ash.

Mrs. Galdarro pounded a fist on the wall. “They've closed the gate!” she growled.

“Who?” Tommy asked.

“Drefids,” said Mr. Charlie. “They are the ones who really know how to work these things. Got here before us.”

“Why?” asked Tommy.

“To keep you from escaping,” she replied. “I must contact the other Sentinels.”

“Cool,” said Tommy. “You have some kind of magic mirror, crystal ball, or like a pet owl or something?”

“Yes, I have just the thing.” Mrs. Galdarro frowned and reached into her pocket. “It's called a
cell phone
.” She flipped open her phone. “Oh dear, I'm not getting a signal.”

“Maybe you should get ya'self a pet owl,” said Mr. Charlie, and he smiled at Tommy.

“I didn't ask your opinion,” Mrs. Galdarro huffed. “We need to get back to the surface.”

They fled the strange room with all the drawers. Their flashlight beams danced all over the hall as they hurried ahead. Not taking a chance of falling into that ghastly hole, Tommy made sure to stay to the far right. They increased their pace and raced through the ward with all the tumbled bed frames. At a dead run, they hit the stairs and bounded up.

Night had settled over the hospital grounds while they were below the surface. Cloud-veiled moonlight through broken windows cast pale, intermittent light into the long hallway.

Mrs. Galdarro checked her cell phone as they walked. “Come on,” she urged the phone. And then she stopped. “It says my mailbox is full.”

“That can't be good,” said Mr. Charlie.

“Shhh!” said Tommy. “What was that?”

There was a creaking sound above them. “Uh, Charlie,” said Mrs. Galdarro. “I think it would be a good time to get out the tools.”

“The just-in-case ones?” asked Tommy, looking to Mr. Charlie.

“Yes, indeed,” Charlie replied, letting the black duffel slide off his arm to the ground. He reached inside and pulled out several items. “Miss Elle, here's your sword.” He gave her a thin-bladed weapon that reminded Tommy of a samurai sword. “Tommy, I hope this short bow works for you.” He handed Tommy a black compound bow and a quiver of long silver arrows.

“What am I shooting at?” Tommy asked, a tremor in his voice. The creaking above them turned to a rapid scratching and a horrendous rip. Pieces of wood and crumbling drywall fell from the ceiling.

“Run!” Mrs. Galdarro yelled. Tommy sprinted away, Mrs. Galdarro just behind. Even as he ran, Mr. Charlie dug into the bag. He seemed to be having trouble getting something out.

Tommy looked back over his shoulder and saw the former custodian pull a long shield out of the duffel bag. But then something tore through the ceiling behind them. A dark figure dropped to the ground twenty yards back. Tommy stifled a scream. He'd seen a shadowy figure with fiery points for eyes. Tommy turned to look where he was running, stumbled, but by lunging forward he kept from falling.

“Drefids!” Mrs. Galdarro yelled. “Charlie!”

“I see them!” he growled back. His dialect was gone and his voice had deepened. “They won't touch a curly hair on Tommy's head!”

THEY?
Tommy stopped short. A shadow moved in the moonlight across the floor up ahead. Tommy saw something at the window, a human form, there just for a moment. But then with inhuman strength, it crouched and leaped up past the top of the window, disappearing from sight.

There came a keening screech from behind. Tommy didn't turn because the ceiling up ahead began to collapse. A massive piece of drywall fell to the floor. When the billowing dust and debris cleared, another dark figure stood there, just twenty yards away. Tommy had seen the Drefids as he read
The Elf Lord Chronicles
, but it was always from a distance and slightly vague—like watching through a thick windowpane. Now, a creature stood before Tommy. For real!

The Drefid was the size of a large man. He stood in a kind of half crouch and clenched his pale fists, repeatedly pumping his fingers as slowly sharp, bony blades emerged from his knuckles. Four of these lethal killing spikes grew from each hand to almost a foot in length. The Drefid slid his claws together, scraping them back and forth as if sharpening them.

“Shoot, Tommy!” yelled Mrs. Galdarro. “Aim for his eyes!”

Tommy looked at the creature's face. Pale skin; large, dark sockets; and luminous white eyes . . . they seemed to stare and yet see nothing all at once. The Drefid wore a black cloak, and his mane of white hair floated freely about as if the creature were underwater.

“What's the matter, boy?” it hissed at Tommy. “Lost your nerve?”

“SHOOT!”

In a heart's beat, Tommy nocked an arrow, lifted the bow, and fired. The shaft leaped from the bow, and for a moment, Tommy rode with it, heading straight for the Drefid's right eye. But the arrow pierced nothing but air until it stabbed the drywall at the other end of the hall. The Drefid had leaped up in the air toward Tommy. With his arms and clawed fists spread wide like wings, the creature plummeted toward the paralyzed thirteen-year-old.

Mrs. Galdarro raced in front of Tommy. Her sword blade flashed across the creature's midsection even as she shoved Tommy backward out of the way. The Drefid fell in a heap and landed facedown. Before he could rise again, Mr. Charlie was there. He grasped the bottom of his shield and slammed it down on the prone Drefid.

At last, when the creature was still, Mr. Charlie turned his shield upside down and brought its sharp upper edge down like a guillotine's blade on the Drefid's bony claws.

SNAP!

Mr. Charlie's shield severed the bony spikes from its fists.

“Charlie!” Mrs. Galdarro yelled. There came another shriek from behind.

The burly custodian spun in place. The second Drefid had been joined by a third. One sprinted straight at them up the hall. The other Drefid scrabbled on all fours along the ceiling and nearly kept pace with the one on the ground.

Heedless of the Drefid above, Mr. Charlie raised his shield and bull-rushed the other head-on. A liquid chill ran down Tommy's back as he watched Mr. Charlie surge forward like a locomotive. Tommy thought with horror,
He doesn't see the one on the ceiling.

Both Drefids came on.

The next three seconds turned to slow motion. Mrs. Galdarro yelled to warn Mr. Charlie, but her cry was cut short. The clawless Drefid may have been beaten down, but he had not been killed. He rose up on his knees, drew a slim dagger, and plunged it into Mrs. Galdarro's lower leg.

She grunted, spun her leg off the Drefid's weapon, and in the same motion, drove her own blade into the eye socket of the creature. In that moment, an arrow from Tommy's bow sang out and hit the Drefid on the ceiling square in the forehead just above the eyes. There was a peculiar spark, and the arrow sprang back. The force of the impact, however, knocked the Drefid off of the ceiling. He fell at Mr. Charlie's feet.

This time, Mr. Charlie didn't go for the claws. He plunged the sharp edge of his shield down on the back of the creature's neck. Something blue and faintly luminous sprayed up from the dying Drefid. But Mr. Charlie wasn't finished.

The final living Drefid had just gotten back on his feet down the hallway, when Mr. Charlie flung his shield. It hit the creature full in the chest. There was a swift cracking noise, and the Drefid fell to the ground.

“Mrs. Galdarro!” Tommy yelled. He stared at the fresh blood on her lower leg.

“I am fine, Tommy,” she replied, sliding the sword into her belt. “It was only a scratch from an earth dagger. Had it been one of the lethal blades forged in Vesper Crag . . . well, best not to think on such things. Charlie, we need to—”

“I'm comin', Elle!” Mr. Charlie ran up.

With Mrs. Galdarro listening to messages on her cell phone the whole way, they hurried out of the hospital, across the grassy campus, through the trees, and down the hill.

Once safe in the SUV, they sat in silence for some time. Tommy shook his head. Wishing it had all been a nightmare hadn't worked. He had seen otherworldly things. And the notion that Mrs. Galdarro and her tale of Elves might yet be a fraud was blasted right out of Tommy's mind.

Mrs. Galdarro was still listening to messages, so Tommy leaned around his seat. “Mr. Charlie?”

“Mmm?”

“Those things . . . those Drefids, they'd have killed me and my parents if I'd stayed in my home?”