Nightmare Academy Page 20

  The wall blinked again. Now he was sure where the lens was, even if he couldn't see it.

  He grabbed the chair the girl was sitting in and yanked it high over his head. The girl remained exactly where she was, sitting in midair, still smiling at him and telling him he could create his own truth any way he wanted it.

  With all his strength, and quite glad about it, he brought the chair down where the projector was hiding and felt the chair connect with something. There was a crash and the tinkling of glass. The girl sitting in midair began to flutter, her voice turned to static, and then, like a flame blown out, she vanished.

  Now all this was new information, too. The pleasant family room was looking foggy, out of focus, and within six seconds Elijah caught sight of a real wall beyond the log wall—and the steel rungs of a ladder.

  He ran forward, arms outstretched, eyes locked open to see the next blink.

  There were the rungs again, embedded in the wall just two feet to the left, within reach!

  His hand locked onto a steel

  rung that wasn't there.

  He closed his eyes, tried not to feel the room he was in, tried to sense only the ladder—

  His hand locked onto a steel rung that wasn't there.

  No! It is there! The ladder is real! Climb, Elijah! Climb, no matter what your senses tell you!

  He pulled on the rung. Somewhere inside his nervous system, a faint message was delivered: You're lifting yourself. All around, on every side, he was still in that pleasant family room in the big log house and nothing had changed; but he groped, then he grabbed another unseen, almost unfelt rung, and pulled again. Now his toe found a rung, and he pushed with his leg.

  He was climbing out of there, no matter what the room said, no matter what he thought he was seeing.

  BOOM! Another explosion rattled the valley, the shock wave bounding off the mountainsides and rolling through again, shaking the ground and quivering the mansion. Elisha and all the kids could only watch helplessly as dorm B blossomed toward the sky in a cloud of smoke, fire, and splinters.

  “They're erasing the campus,” said Elisha. “They're going to cover up everything they did here.”

  Warren was beside her, looking out the same window. “So what are they going to do with us?”

  Elisha couldn't say it. She didn't even want to think it. “Can we break these windows?”

  “We've tried.”

  “Let's try again.”

  Even an ax in Rory's hands simply bounced off the thick Plexiglas.

  Warren called out, “Okay, everybody, do something! Grab a tool and do some damage, find a weak spot, a crack, a door, anything!”

  Even Alexander complied, grabbing a shovel and looking for any seam or crack he might be able to pry open.

  BOOM! There went the main classroom building, all of Ms. Fitzhugh's artwork, all the foreign language materials, all the history and social studies books. Ashes, fragments of desks, and tattered pages floated through the air like snowflakes.

  Nate and Sarah could hear the explosion, even feel it in their feet as they followed the little hotel clerk through the woods to a narrow tunnel hewn and blasted out of the rock.

  “Looks like nothing but an old mine,” said a marshal.

  “It used to be a mine entrance,” said the little man, “but they bored it out to use as an escape tunnel. They had this whole thing planned from the beginning.”

  “So how do we know you're not bluffing?”

  BOOM . . . OOM . . . OOM . . . oom . . . oom . . . This time the sound of the explosion came echoing at them through the tunnel.

  “Sounds like this will get us there,” said Nate, clicking on a flashlight. They'd all been advised they would need lights.

  The marshal waved to his men. “Okay, Wyrick, Perkins, Bocelli, up front with me. Springfields and Morgan, stay close behind. Hanson, stay here with the suspect. The rest of you take up the rear.” Then he reached into his belt and produced a spare semiautomatic pistol, handing it to Nate. “You may need this.”

  Nate received it. “Thanks.”

  They plunged into the black, endless throat of the tunnel.

  Elijah kept going through the motions, clinging with desperate hope to each rung of the ladder, hoping the faint sensations of gripping and climbing were the correct ones. The pleasant room around him was starting to warp and ripple as the colors, sounds, and even smells, became . . . less real. He kept going, grabbing and pulling, stepping and pushing, rung after rung—

  His head broke into the clear, suddenly, as if he'd just broken through the surface of a lake. Though his body was still floundering in a swirling, fluttering nonreality groping to find the next rung, from the neck up, the world was real. He could see cables and wiring, a vast steel gridwork supporting lights, holographic projectors, movable walls and panels, color and sound generators. It looked like the most expensive movie sound stage ever built.

  He could clearly see the rungs of the ladder now, embedded in the concrete wall he was climbing, and directly above him, a catwalk. He pulled himself out of the swirling light, out of the weird, fuzzy static until, like a drowning man flopping into a boat, he rolled onto the catwalk. Below him, the pleasant family room, several disjointed hallways, even some phony forest, wavered and rippled as if they were under water.

  He'd had enough of this place. There was a door at the far end of the catwalk. He pulled himself to his feet, then limped and staggered through that door.

  He was in a control room, most likely the place where they concocted and controlled his continuous, mind-frying hell. Strangely, the place was deserted. Only a few consoles and monitors were still operating. The sound of frantic voices and clanging tools was coming from somewhere, like a video playing. He dragged himself farther into the room, looking about, trying to find the source. His eye caught a glimmer of light behind him—

  He turned to see huge screens on the wall, and immediately recognized his sister and most of the student body, all banging, gouging, prying with garden tools, trying to get out of a huge, white room with high windows.

  His mind was tired. He watched them struggle, but nothing connected; nothing made any sense.

  His mind was tired. He watched

  them struggle, but nothing connected;

  nothing made any sense.

  Then one piece fell into place: Those windows look like the mansion's windows.

  Next piece: It's the mansion.

  Final piece: They're trapped inside!

  Immediately below the screens, a computer monitor flickered, running through columns and graphics. He stumbled to it, stared at it. It meant nothing to him. What . . . what is this?

  There were lines of information in bright red: DORMITORY A . . . DORMITORY B . . . MAIN CLASSROOM . . . LIBRARY. To the left of each line, four zeroes and the flashing word DONE.

  Below these were the rest of the campus structures, all listed in green, preceded by four digits and the word STANDBY. The numbers before DORMITORY C were counting down, just going through 410.8 and dropping fast.

  At the very bottom was the line, 055.5 STANDBY MANSION AND CONTROL CENTER.

  Elijah sat at the console, staring at the monitor, then studying the big screens above. One showed the kids trapped in the mansion; another showed a burning pile of rubble and a black column of smoke. A third showed a dormitory—with the letter C on the corner.

  Was all this supposed to mean something? He just kept staring, his mind an exhausted, burned-out blob inside his head.

  Elisha was banging with an ax on the seam of the front door, guessing where a hinge or a latch might be, but the structure was solid, her desperate blows futile.

  Rory came along. “Let me try.”

  She stood back, and he struck the seam so hard it broke the ax handle. He threw the broken end down and just stared.

  “There has to be a way,” she said.

  Rory looked at her a moment, then said, “I want you to know, I really did like your brother.�
��

  BOOM! This time it was dorm C. Beyond the smoke and flame they could see another bulldozer standing by.

  Elijah saw the explosion on the big screen, and then—

  He saw the line “DORMITORY C” go from green to red. The numbers were all zeroes, and the computer reported with the flashing word DONE.

  He stared another moment, and then . . .

  Oh, great . . .

  It finally sank in: The computer was executing a program, setting off charges to destroy all the buildings—with this building the last on the list.

  Elijah could see the exit door, still open. He could still get out of here. He could also see his sister and classmates struggling, crying, trying to get out of the mansion.

  I won't leave you here, Elisha.

  He remained seated at the console, staring at the monitor, praying he could figure out how in the world to abort the program. His mind just wasn't clicking.

  “Dear Lord Jesus, I need your help—uh, right now. I mean, really right now. Please."

  The tunnel went straight through the mountain for hundreds of feet, maybe thousands. There didn't seem to be an end to it.

  “Heads up,” said the marshal.

  There were faint lights coming the other way. Click-clack! Nate heard the marshals chambering rounds in their pistols. He did the same.

  “Escapees, no doubt,” Morgan nearly whispered.

  They quickened their pace, nearly running, half blind in the dark, heading for those lights. The lights began to waver, dart about. They heard distant, echoing voices of alarm.

  Ping PaPing! A bullet ricocheted off the rock walls while everyone ducked. BANGangangangangang!!! The sound of the shot echoed up and down the tunnel. The lights reversed. The “escapees” were turning tail and running.

  “Let's go! Let's go! Let's GO!” hollered the marshal.

  OOOM . . . oom . . . oom . . . oom. Another explosion, much closer, much louder.

  Britney and Cher both screamed, covering their ears as they huddled in a corner, totally beside themselves. Alexander banged on the stubborn Plexiglas with both fists, roaring in total panic.

  Elisha, Rory, and Warren watched through a window as the last dorm building disintegrated in a ball of fire.

  “They're going to blow up everything, aren't they?” said Rory.

  “Even this building,” Warren added.

  From all she had seen and heard in the control room, Elisha could only reach one conclusion. “Yes. I believe they are.”

  The clanging of the tools was beginning to subside. The kids were starting to give up.

  Elisha felt a hand on her shoulder. It was Joan, all tears. Neither had to say a word; Elisha just held Joan close as Joan wept in remorse.

  Another explosion! The concussion pounded the mansion like a drum. The kids flinched, cried, screamed.

  The Rec Center was gone, and all the games were reduced to black, burning ash adrift in the wind.

  Elijah kept staring at the screen, trying to get his mind to grab hold of something: Okay, red means the building's blown, green means it's going to be blown, the numbers counting down mean the number of seconds and tenths of seconds before each blast . . .

  There was a field labeled RESET He clicked on that, but got an error message: PLEASE ENTER RESET QUANTITY.

  Reset quantity, reset quantity . . . what quantity?

  He stared at the columns of numbers not yet counting down. Come on, come on, what's the relationship? How did they stack the numbers?

  Oh, Lord, don't let it be a logarithm, not today.

  The Campus Exchange billowed into the sky, a cloud of splinters, pulverized stone, and shredded Knight-Moore sports clothing and souvenirs.

  Nate and Sarah heard the explosion just before they broke out of the tunnel into the daylight, and now they could see the smoke through the trees, filling the valley below. The marshals fanned out, giving chase to unknown people—men and women in business attire carrying briefcases and valises, running in all directions through the forest. By the way those people were struggling, slipping, and tripping through the brush in their dress shoes and high heels, it seemed they wouldn't get far.

  A trail led from the tunnel entrance, and up ahead, through the trees, Nate, Sarah, and Morgan could see the towering white walls of a huge mansion. They ran for it.

  BOOM! Another structure went up in a ball of fire and smoke. They heard bulldozers in the valley scraping, rolling, squeaking.

  Morgan started crashing down the hill through the trees, shouting at the marshals, “Stop those bulldozers! Stop them!”

  Then Nate and Sarah heard something else: a low, close-tothe-ground snuffling, then a snorting. Some bushes rustled. Some twigs snapped.

  Nate raised his pistol, aiming it in the direction of the noise.

  There was a growl, the pounding of big feet. They saw a large, furry form charging through the brush, and then a monstrous head appeared, a roaring bear with glistening teeth.

  Nate fired two rounds, then a third.

  Sparks exploded from the bear's mouth and chest, and then, a stream of smoke. The big creature began to jerk and jolt like a poorly driven car, until finally it burst out of the bushes and lurched to a stop only a few yards away, hissing and smoking, the growl reduced to garbled radio noise. There was a smell like burning wire. Hydraulic fluid dribbled out on the ground. This bear had steel wheels on his feet.

  No time to wonder about it. They ran on.

  They saw a large, furry form

  charging through the brush, and then

  a monstrous head appeared, a roaring bear

  with glistening teeth.

  The computer monitor was telling Elijah that the cafeteria had just blown up. The numbers next to OFFICE were counting down now. When they dropped down to a certain value, the office building was going to blow.

  What value?

  He went to the bottom of the list—just three lines down, now—and checked out the building where he and the other kids were this very moment. Hey! 55.5 seconds! That has to be the demolition cycle, 55.5 seconds!

  He entered that from the keyboard.

  ERROR. PLEASE ENTER RESET QUANTITY.

  “There's somebody out there!” Jamal shouted, and all the kids ran to the windows.

  “There goes somebody else!” said Rory.

  Elisha could see green-jacketed marshals running across the front lawn. The kids raised a ruckus, banging on the windows, yelling, screaming.

  Alexander yelled like a wild man,

  banging and swearing, but to no avail.

  The marshals kept going.

  “They can't hear us!” Elisha moaned.

  Alexander yelled like a wild man, banging and swearing, but to no avail.

  Then, suddenly, Elisha saw a vision like a flash of reality, like a bolt from the ordinary, real world piercing this nightmare.

  She saw her mom and dad running toward the mansion, searching all around the grounds with their eyes, trying to find any sign—

  Elisha screamed as she'd never screamed before. “It's my mom and dad!”

  Hope flooded that big white prison. The kids pressed against the windows, waving, straining for a glimpse, longing to see a real mom and dad out there.

  Sarah heard some faint noises, looked, and it was like seeing the heavens opened. There was Elisha, trapped behind the glass. “Nate! Nate, it's Elisha!”

  She leaped up on the porch, went to the window, and put her hand against the thick Plexiglas. Elisha, crying unashamedly, pressed her palm against her mother's, the glass between them.

  Nate tried the front door. It was sealed shut, like it was part of the wall. “What about the windows?”

  Sarah replied, “Unbreakable, probably bulletproof.”

  The sound of a big machine echoed up from the valley. “I'll be right back.” Nate took off down the walkway toward the big open gate.

  KABOOM! The office building was history.

  Elijah was talking out loud to hims
elf, trying to get his brain to work. “Okay, 55.5, 55.5 . . . Okay, yeah, increments of 55.5 . . . okay, twice that is 111 . . .”

  The computer was telling him there was only one more building to blow up before it was time to blow up this one.

  “Okay, reset, reset . . . two buildings to go, we're counting down from 111 . . .”

  He entered 111.

  ERROR. PLEASE ENTER RESET QUANTITY.

  With some help from an armed U.S. marshal, Nate bumped the nearest bulldozer operator from his machine and took over. He put the big monster in high gear, opened the throttle, and crossed the field like an army tank. The gate was already broken open; he had only to widen the opening as he crashed through.

  BOOM! The last remaining structure on the campus went up like a volcano.

  Sirens began shrieking in the control room. Strobes began to flash. Elijah had only one green line left, and it was counting down, 55 seconds . . . 45 . . . 35 . . .

  All right, Elijah, think! THINK!

  55.5 increments, twice is 111 . . . that doesn't work . . .

  Nate was rolling, thundering, screeching up the walkway, heading for the mansion, looking for the best place to ram a hole. He gestured wildly to Sarah and yelled, “Get the kids back!”

  Sarah waved through the window, “Get back! Get back!”

  The kids inside ran to the farthest corner, dragging any kids too hysterical to move on their own.

  25 seconds.

  Okay. Twelve buildings, twelve lines . . . twelve times 55.5 . . .

  Elijah couldn't do it in his head. The sirens were jumbling what was left of his brain. He looked for some paper and a pencil.

  Nate rolled across the front lawn, digging out deep, ugly track marks in the grass. He yanked the right lever, spun the big Cat around, and headed for the front wall, just to the right of the porch.

  Full throttle now. Straight on. Seat belt fastened?