Trace Evidence: A Virals Short Story Collection Page 5

  Ben was twisting left and right, trying to decide where to search next, when Hi’s whistle shattered the quiet. He aimed both index fingers straight forward. “How about that! I win.”

  Eyes narrowed, I peered in the indicated direction.

  The Frisbee hung from a bush twenty yards ahead.

  Shelton jogged over and freed the disc. “Hello, old friend.”

  “Where do I collect my reward?” Hi asked politely.

  Ben smirked, made a rude gesture. “Here you go, sir.”

  I barked a laugh, but then something caught my eye. A slash of darkness in the otherwise lime-green hillside.

  Curious, I strolled closer, dodging prickly vines for a better look.

  Then I saw it. Goose bumps covered my arms.

  “Um, you guys?”

  Three sets of eyes found me.

  I pointed to an inky black square in the weeds.

  “What is that?”

  There was a hole in the hill.

  Low. Narrow. Trussed with wood. The gap was no wider than a pizza box, but I had a feeling that a larger space lay beyond.

  Cold air seeped from the opening, like a refrigerator door left open.

  The boys gathered at my side, staring down at the hole. “That some kind of animal’s den?” Shelton whispered, one hand rising to tug on his earlobe. Must be a nervous tic.

  I shook my head. “See how it’s framed? Someone built this.”

  “So it’s a tunnel?” Hi guessed. “Who’d dig one out here? Why?”

  Ben straightened. Looked at Shelton, whose eyes widened.

  “Battery Gregg,” Shelton breathed. Hi’s face lit up, but I didn’t understand.

  “I don’t understand,” I said, making it clear.

  “Morris Island was part of Charleston’s Civil War defenses,” Shelton explained excitedly. “These hills overlook the harbor mouth. Back in the day, the Confederates put giant cannons up here so they could fire down on anything moving in or out.”

  Hi was nodding slowly. “Old maps say the rebels built bunkers on Morris, but everyone assumes they collapsed a long time ago. No one’s found one intact.”

  “Well, we just did.” I grinned ear to ear. “Right?”

  “Looks like it.” Shelton motioned back toward the beach. “Let’s go tell my dad.”

  I didn’t move. “Or . . .”

  “Or what?” Hi crouched before the opening, then chuckled. “You wanna crawl in there yourself?”

  He looked back at me. I met his eye.

  Hi blanched, eyes rounding. “You do want to go inside! Hardcore.”

  “Whoa!” Shelton backed up a few steps. “You crazy? That looks like a collapsing sand pit. Or a tunnel straight to hell.”

  Ben shifted but said nothing, staring at the hole.

  “As much as it pains me,” Hi said, straightening, “I have to agree with Shelton on this one. Who knows what’s in there? Plus, I bet it smells bad.”

  Shelton shivered. “Bats. Snakes. Could be a bear in there for all we know.”

  “A bear?” Ben snorted. “On Morris Island?” But he made no move to get closer.

  Shelton was not done. “We don’t know what’s in there. It could be a crypt. A mass grave. A ghost restaurant.”

  “Last one is my vote.” Hi elbowed his skinny friend. “Probably a seafood joint. Maybe they serve haunted sushi?”

  Despite Shelton’s protests, I crept to the tunnel mouth and knelt beside it.

  “Hello?” No echo. The sound died just beyond the opening.

  “Be careful!” Shelton was on the balls of his feet. “You might wake something up!”

  Seconds passed, and no disaster occurred. I gathered my courage and stuck my head into the gap, ignoring the sharp intakes of breath behind me. The entrance was narrow and dusty, rising so sharply I couldn’t see more than a few feet ahead.

  Frustrated, I wriggled deeper into the tunnel.

  “Oh lord,” Shelton hissed. “Can we talk about this first?”

  I wiggled another foot inside, then raised up on my hands and knees, craning my neck until I could see over the hump. Beyond, the tunnel dipped back down. Light glimmered.

  What the heck?

  Snap decision. “I’m going in!”

  Groans from outside.

  “This girl might be crazy!” someone whispered. Pretty sure it was Hiram.

  I wriggled over and down the bump, crawled a few feet, then popped into a chamber the size of a classroom. An inch of dust coated the floor. The walls consisted of squared timbers riveted together. The ceiling was higher than I expected, at least ten feet. A low door had been cut into the left-hand wall, leading deeper into the hill.

  But I was drawn to the opposite side of the room, where a wide rectangular window had been carved though solid rock. A bench ran beneath it, splintered and covered in bird droppings. I stepped onto the thick wood, my hands resting in a deep groove in the stone windowsill.

  My hand rose to cover my mouth. “Oh my.”

  Charleston Harbor spread out below me like a blanket. The window was halfway up a cliff that dropped to a rocky cove below. A wooden shelf overhung the window, faced with stone and shielding the chamber from sunlight.

  And from outside view, I bet. No wonder it’s never been found.

  “Wow.”

  I jumped. Ben was standing right beside me, staring out at the ocean.

  He held up a hand. “Sorry! I called your name, but you didn’t answer. So I followed to make sure . . .” He trailed off.

  To make sure I’m safe? Is that why?

  “Amazing, right?” I looked around the room. “I wonder how long since the last person was inside here.”

  Ben ran a finger through a layer of dust. “Decades, at least. Maybe a century.”

  A muffled voice trickled through the entrance. “Are y’all dead? Please don’t be!”

  “We’re fine, Shelton,” Ben shouted back. “You and Hi get in here. It’s cool.”

  An argument ensued outside. Finally, I heard scraping sounds as someone forced their way through the crawl space.

  Shelton’s head emerged from the gap. “This tunnel is not cool!” Covered in dust, he scrambled to his feet and began frantically smacking the front of his shirt. “Spiders! Are there spiders on me? I feel spiders!”

  “Relax.” Ben slapped the grime from Shelton’s bony shoulders. “Nothing. Quit freaking out.”

  “I just crawled into a hill cave, Blue. Give me a sec, okay?”

  “What’s that about spiders?” Hi flopped from the entrance, breathing hard. “Not a fan!”

  “No spiders,” I assured him. “But the view is pretty outstanding.”

  Both forgot their complaints and charged forward.

  “It’s a cannon slit!” Shelton said excitedly. “You can see the grooves!”

  “A rebel bunker.” Hiram’s eyes twinkled. “I bet this really is part of Battery Gregg.”

  “Told you!” Shelton chirped, then he patted his own back.

  “I thought of it first,” Ben grumbled.

  “What’s in there?” Hi pointed to the other opening.

  “Haven’t gotten that far.” I turned back to the window. “Distracted by the awesome.”

  “Man, this is an amazing spot.” Shelton began pointing out details below us. “We’re at the northern point of Morris. That land across the water is Sullivan’s Island, and the rock pile out in the channel is Fort Sumter, which used to guard the harbor entrance.”

  “This position makes sense.” Ben tucked his long black hair behinds his ears. “With some big guns stationed here, no one could storm the harbor without getting blasted.”

  Hi wandered to the second opening and peered inside. “Dark.” He squeezed through, then we heard a loud crash. A plume of dust
billowed back through the door.

  “Hi?” Ben dug into his backpack and removed a flashlight.

  Hi’s voice floated from the darkness. “I’m okay. I think. Ouch.”

  Ben shined the beam though the doorway. Hi was lying atop a pile of scrap wood. The second room was roughly proportional to the first, but without the open window slit.

  “Nice move, slick.” Ben spat dust from his mouth.

  Hi remained on his back, wiping dirt from his eyes. “Next time let me know that you have a flashlight. Cool?”

  “I always have one.” Ben slipped through the gap to give Hi a hand. As Shelton and I watched, the mound shifted awkwardly. Something tumbled off, clattering for several seconds as it fell somewhere behind Hi.

  And continued to fall. And fall.

  “Stop!” I yelled, causing Ben to freeze in the act of hoisting Hiram to his feet.

  “What was that noise?” Shelton asked. “All that rattling?”

  My eyes zeroed in on a dark patch against the wall. “Ben, don’t move, but shine your light over to the left.”

  The beam arced across the room, halting above an inky void.

  “Yo!” Shelton hissed. “Don’t move! There’s another hole.”

  Ben instinctively shifted backward and the whole pile shifted. Hi slid closer to the gap.

  “Oh crap!” Hi reached both hands toward Ben. “Help me help me help me!”

  Ben didn’t move, unsure what to do. Something rolled off and banged its way down the deeper shaft.

  I fought for calm. “Okay. So. There’s a hole in the back of the room. This woodpile hangs over it, so we need to get Hi off the pile without him falling down the shaft.”

  “Yes.” Hi’s jaw was clenched. “Without falling down the shaft. Without.”

  Ben was still frozen mid-crouch. “Do I go forward, or back?” He was sweating, but his voice was steady. I could tell he wouldn’t panic.

  I thought furiously. The woodpile was large, and didn’t seem on the brink of collapse. “I think the stack will hold if you don’t make any sudden moves. Ben. Very carefully, lean forward and reach for Hi.”

  Ben took a breath, then extended his hand.

  For a moment, Hi just stared at it. Then he gripped it with all his might.

  “Now pull him back slowly,” I instructed. “Be careful, not too—”

  The woodpile creaked. Hi panicked, dove toward Ben, who yanked him backward on top of him. There was a thunderous clatter as half the wood disappeared into the hole.

  My pulse spiked, but when the dust cleared, I could see both boys near the entrance.

  “Or do that.” I laughed nervously. “Whatever works.”

  Hi was lying on Ben’s chest, panting like he’d just run a marathon. “I love you, Benjamin Blue. I don’t say it enough.”

  “Get off me!” Ben shoved him aside, then punched him in the gut.

  “Don’t be ashamed of your feelings,” Hi gasped, rubbing his side as he stared up at the ceiling. “FYI, you guys, I found a giant hole in the back of this room. Watch your step.”

  “Not a hole.” Shelton had snagged the flashlight from where Ben dropped it and was aiming its beam at the opening. “It’s a square cut into the wall. And big.”

  “What is it?” I inched forward and stared down its maw.

  “A mine shaft.” Shelton scratched his chin, thinking out loud. “Maybe this bunker connects to others underground.” Then his head whipped to me. “I’m not going down there, so don’t even ask!”

  Ben tossed a piece of wood down the shaft. “It’s not steep, so quit worrying. You could climb down that thing if you really wanted to.”

  With his next toss, a section of the shaft’s wall broke off. Dirt rained down the opening.

  “Hmm.” Hi gave me the side-eye. “Maybe we don’t push our luck.”

  “Agreed,” I said quickly. “I like exploring, but I don’t have a death wish. That pit is out of bounds as far as I’m concerned.”

  The boys released matching sighs of relief. A quick survey found the rest of the chamber empty, so we returned to the front room. Again, my eyes were drawn to the postcard vista outside the window.

  “I can’t get over how incredible this is!” I drummed my thighs, excited. “What a secret to discover.”

  Shelton nodded, adjusting his glasses. “Who should we report it to?”

  Surprisingly, Ben answered, “Why tell anyone?”

  Shelton’s head reared back, his mouth opening to protest. Then he shut it with a thoughtful expression. Hi was already nodding. “This would make a badass clubhouse. A place where we control the rules for a change. Super best friends need a sweet place to congregate. For book club. And snacks.”

  His lunatic rambling was oddly touching. “Is that what we are?”

  Hi looked confused. “Huh?”

  Now it was my turn to blush. “Super best friends.”

  Hi froze a beat, then barked a laugh. Embarrassed, Shelton began studiously cleaning his glasses.

  I looked at Ben. He cracked the first smile I’d seen from him.

  “Of course, Tory Brennan.” Hi thrust out a hand, palm up. “Bring it in. Morris Islanders have to stick together.”

  Ben added his hand to Hi’s. Then Shelton.

  All three looked at me, grinning like monkeys. Waiting.

  I damn near cried.

  Stupid, but there it is.

  I placed my hand on top of theirs. “Thanks, guys. I think I’m going to like it here.”

  “Oh, you will!” Hi slapped his other hand on top of the stack. “Secret-bunker-we-don’t-tell-anyone-about-because-it’s-the-bomb-and-belongs-to-us-now, on three!”

  “What?” Shelton spat.

  “Dope,” Ben muttered.

  “Got it,” I said.

  “One!” Hi called out. “Two . . . three!”

  The cheer came out garbled, but our point was made.

  A friendship, sealed.

  I stepped back, filled with the warm glow of happiness for the first time in weeks.

  “What could be cooler than this?” I asked, giddy with delight.

  “Only one place I know,” Shelton said. Ben quickly nodded in agreement.

  I arched a brow in surprise. “Where?”

  The guys looked at each other. Something passed between them.

  “Should we go today?” Hi asked.

  “Go?” I said. “Huh?”

  “Definitely.” Shelton rubbed his hands together.

  “Go where?” I asked.

  “My dad can take us,” Ben said. “Next run’s in forty minutes.”

  “Guys!” I shouted. Even stamped a foot, to their amusement. “Would one of you please tell me what you’re talking about?” I continued in a calm, if exasperated, voice. “Where do you want to go?”

  Three wide smiles.

  “Tory, my dear,” Hi intoned, “let us tell you about Loggerhead Island.”

  That Sunday started like any other on Morris Island.

  Moms.

  Yelling up the stairs.

  “Shelton Devers!” Her voice arrowed through my door like it wasn’t even there. “Get out of bed, lazy bones! It’s almost eight thirty.”

  “I’m up!” I lied, burrowing deeper into my blankets.

  Need my beauty rest.

  But I knew a personal visit came next. My mother does not tolerate slacking.

  Groaning, I rolled from bed and stumbled to the bathroom, slapping my Avatar poster for luck along the way.

  Toilet. Shower. Toothbrush. My brain slowly churned awake.

  I was halfway through a second round of flossing—you’ve got to protect your gums—when One Direction blasted from my iMac’s speakers.

  New message.

  “That’s what makes y
ou beautiful.” Mumbled, as I dropped into my desk chair.

  Hey, I don’t care. Haters gonna hate, but them dudes can sing.

  I located my glasses—black, box-framed, with inch-thick lenses—and slid them onto my nose. Necessary evil. I’ve tried contacts a thousand times, but can’t pop the little buggers into place. Something about touching my eyeball—I break into shivers just thinking about it.

  The world snapped into focus.

  An image of the Most Interesting Man in the World filled my screen.

  Hiram. Wanting to chat.

  “What’s he doing up?” I said aloud.

  Mouse click. My new avatar—Donkey Kong preparing to Space Jump—appeared as I typed a response.

  Donkey Kong: Takeout or delivery?

  TMIMITW: Hilarious.

  TMIMITW: Searched level four, but can’t find World Breaker mace. Near Coilfang? Need to increase my critical strike rating!!!

  “Rookie,” I muttered, punching in a response.

  Donkey Kong: Defeat Fathom-Lord Karathress in the Serpentshrine Cavern. He’ll drop it. Can you handle that? Or is this your first day?

  Two cursor blinks, followed by:

  TMIMITW: You’re a first day.

  TMIMITW: Thanks.

  “Any time, noob.” I logged off and hurried downstairs. Drag your feet in my house, you end up cooking your own breakfast.

  Luckily, Mom and Dad were just sitting down.

  “Don’t mind if I do.” I snagged three silver dollar pancakes. My favorite.

  “Big plans today, honey?” my mother asked between bites. Born in Japan, she had a round face and soft, delicate features. That morning, her long black hair was tied in a thick braid. “The weather’s supposed to be gorgeous.”

  “None yet.” Words I immediately regretted.

  My mother abhorred idleness. A veterinary technician at the Loggerhead Island Research Institute, she viewed work and fun as synonymous, and was frequently surprised when others didn’t. She could strike quickly to fill a hole in my schedule.

  And did.

  “Well, there’s a speaker on primordial lipoproteins at Charleston University this afternoon.” She sipped orange juice straight from the bottle. Mom didn’t stand on ceremony. “Or you could help me collect sea kelp down at Folly Beach. I’m running toxicity tests, hoping to figure out what’s been causing the bird population—”