Gauntlet: Chapter 2

It was a dorm room, just like Britt had said, but Clio had a hard time imagining anyone wanting to live there. It was stark, cold, and uncomfortable. This blank institutional décor pervaded everything Clio had seen in the Gauntlet so far, except for that grand lobby. That, at least, must have been beautiful once.

To lure people in.

Clio jumped when Britt called from across the hall. “You’ll have better luck finding stuff if you actually go inside,” Britt said dryly.

Clio’s cheeks burned as she rushed inside. There wasn’t much to explore. The dresser drawers smelled musty; they held neatly rolled socks and a stack of white underwear that had seen better days. No way was Clio desperate enough to wear someone else’s used underwear, even if it had been laundered a billion years ago.

The second row of drawers held personal items: a monogrammed brush and mirror set, makeup, and a faded pulp fiction paperback book that looked decades old. It was strange how such everyday items seemed like mysterious, ancient artifacts in this situation.

Who had owned these? More importantly, why were these things still here? What had happened to the owner?

Clio frowned, shaking herself out of those thoughts. “As if I care,” she murmured. “I just want out of here.”

On impulse, she grabbed the book and put it in her bag. The rest of the drawers yielded nothing helpful, so she moved to the closet. Two shapeless garments that looked like hospital gowns hung on hooks inside, a pair of slippers neatly lined up beneath them.

She turned to the only other door in the room. Clio opened it to find a bathroom with an identical door on the other side of the sink.

What a surprise. A dirty gray room.

When she turned on the light, her reflection stared back at her from the spotty mirror. Clio made a face and then went in. The medicine cabinet yielded a decent haul. Clio took a bottle of aspirin, a pair of small scissors, and rolls of bandages and tape, but left the half-used tube of hardened toothpaste.

A pillbox caught her eye, and she looked at it curiously. Through the semiopaque plastic, she could see the vague shapes of pills in pink, blue, and yellow candy shades. The box had no label, so she put it back and closed the cabinet.

The mirror showed her a dusty smudge on the bridge of her nose. She rubbed it away before turning on the faucet out of habit, but the pipes only gave a creaky groan. That was worrisome. The water didn’t work everywhere, apparently. She was glad of the comforting weight of the bottle she carried in her pack.

A black spider crawled out of the sink’s drain. Clio shuddered and backed away. “It’s all yours,” she muttered.

She left the dry basin and opened the door to an adjoining room. It was a mirror image of the first, with the twin bed flush against the far wall and the dresser by the door. She squatted to go through it. A few snapshots were scattered in the bottom drawer–Clio picked one up and looked at the unsmiling face of a girl not much older than she.

The other pictures were of the same girl, all in a similar pose, but her face changed subtly in each shot, running the gambit between a fresh-faced, subtle smile and an expressionless mask. They were mixed together, so Clio had no way of knowing the evolution of the shots. She couldn’t help being curious about which had come first, the smile or the mask, and if it was the Gauntlet that had prompted the transformation.

Out in the hall, a door opened and closed; she knew Britt was getting ahead of her and would probably be annoyed if she took too long. She closed the drawer and reached for the next one, but the slow creak of rusty hinges froze her in mid-motion.

“Britt?” Clio’s voice wavered.

Britt didn’t answer, but a door swung open and bumped against the wall behind her. Slowly, Clio looked over her shoulder.

The closet door gaped open, and a pale leg drew back inside. Clio heard a clatter and a thump, and then a thin, stooped figure shambled out from the darkness.

Clio screamed.

The shaggy head rose and turned in her direction. Clio’s stomach plummeted to her feet at the sight of the blank, slack-jawed face. The woman began to shuffle toward Clio; Clio scrambled back and banged her hip painfully on the edge of the dresser.

The woman kept coming. Clio couldn’t see her eyes because her bangs were so overgrown, but she seemed to have Clio in her sights. Clio ran for the door to the hallway, yanked it open, and rushed right into Britt.

Britt grunted and staggered back from the impact, but she managed to keep both of them on their feet. Clio jerked away and pointed at the room. “There’s someone in there!” she cried.

Clio screamed again as the woman appeared in the doorway. But before the woman could come after them, Britt strode forward and gave the woman a hard shove. She calmly reached around the door, turned the lock on the knob, and shut the door to the room.

Clio stared at her, her heart galloping in her chest.

“I…” Clio’s voice skewed high and shaky. “I thought you said the prowlers don’t come out during the day!”

Britt gave a humorless laugh. “That’s not a prowler.”

Confused by Britt’s attitude, Clio struggled to control the flight instinct raging through her. “Then who–what is she?!”

“There’s something wrong with them,” Britt offered, “but that’s all I know. Brain damage, maybe.”

“Brain damage?!” Clio cried. “How?!”

Another shrug from Britt ratcheted up Clio’s frustration, but Britt seemed unconcerned. “You’ll see them around,” Britt added. “Ignore them unless they get too close, but they’re easy to avoid. They won’t hurt you.”

Britt moved on to another door and went in. Clio ran after her.

“But–”

“Look, I wouldn’t obsess over things that don’t matter right now. If you want to try and figure out more about how some drooler got the way she is, be my guest.” Britt pushed a toppled table out of her way with her foot. She didn’t bother looking back at Clio.

“But first you need to learn how to take care of yourself,” Britt said evenly. “That’s the only chance you’ve got.”

***

 “Come on.”

Clio stopped searching through the drawer and looked up. The tone of the casual command made it clear that sticking around would be a bad idea. “Did you hear something?”

Britt walked out without answering or waiting to see if Clio followed. Clio did, shutting the door behind her.

Ever since Britt had let her tag along, Clio had learned to trust the girl’s instincts, even if she didn’t fully trust the girl herself. The past several days had given her a better understanding of the vastness of the building and its bewildering layout, as well as the hierarchy of its so-called residents. She’d gotten much more efficient at scavenging the rooms and even finding her way around the place, though being separated from Britt for longer than a half hour made her extremely anxious.

The fresh chemical smell of a marker made her wrinkle her nose. Britt had already penned the rough, small symbol on the inner doorframe to indicate they’d explored the room. It was adorned with the additional flourish that marked it as a potential safe spot. Clio knew all too well that you could never assume it stayed safe.

The hallway was still empty, but Clio didn’t relax. Britt tucked the purple marker into one of the deep pockets of her cargo pants and jerked her chin. Again, Clio followed.

“Where are we going?” Clio asked.

“This way.”

Clio rolled her eyes behind Britt’s back, then caught up to shoot her a pointed look. “Any place in particular?”

“You stink,” Britt declared.

Clio gaped a moment, earning a smirk from Britt. It certainly wasn’t a lie, but Clio defensively shoved her hands deep into the pockets of her jacket.

“I haven’t exactly had time for a luxurious bubble bath lately,” Clio replied with a scowl. “And you don’t smell any better.”

Britt actually laughed at that–it was more of a snort, really, but Clio was happy to see a glimpse of humor. “Exactly.”

“Exactly, what?”

Without breaking stride, Britt easily maneuvered the pile of debris that partially blocked the entrance to another wing. The heavy doors hung askew, pulled off their hinges in some way that Clio didn’t want to consider. Clio followed a little less gracefully, hanging onto the doorframe with one hand as she climbed over the rubble.

“We need a bath,” Britt explained. She pointed to a door that looked like a maintenance closet.

“In there?” Clio asked. She was skeptical, but the idea was tempting. Several days without washing or brushing her hair had left it lank and stringy. Clio ran a hand through it, making a moue of disgust at the greasy feel of the strands.

Britt smirked again and bent to pick the lock. She’d taught Clio and given her one of her spare lock pick sets, though Clio still wasn’t as good at it. Britt had shown her that it didn’t work on all locks, but it was worth it if you could lock a room you wanted to have safe access to later.

“Through here.”

Britt wrenched the lock open with a click. The room beyond held a fuse box, a bucket and mop, and a shelf that suspended a bottle of bleach. A pair of long, blue overalls hung from a peg on the far wall. Britt tugged at a dangling chain to turn on the closet’s lone lightbulb before closing and locking the door behind them.

“Charming.” Clio hoped she’d get used to the depressing drabness of the building. “You take me to the nicest places.”

“If you don’t like it,” Britt folded her arms across her chest and raised an eyebrow in challenge, “do something about it.”

Clio sighed and surveyed the compact closet. A small metal access panel was fastened under the shelving. It popped off easily to reveal some pipes and a shutoff valve.

Too obvious. She cast a quick look at Britt, who seemed to watch her with faint amusement. Clio’s ears went pink, and she turned and pulled aside the hanging overalls. Nothing there, but Clio pressed along the wall. Finally, she looked up.

A corner of the ceiling just above the shelving had a faint seam. She brightened. She quickly overturned the bucket, climbed onto it, and rose up on her toes to prod at the seam. A hard lunge popped the access panel out of its snug fit, and Clio pushed it open.

“Yes!”

The sound of slow clapping interrupted her concentration. She turned to see Britt’s slanted grin.

“Of course, with the time you took, the prowlers would’ve already had you.”

Clio didn’t like the reminder. A prickle traveled down her spine. “I thought this was just for practice,” she argued.

Britt’s smile evaporated. “It’s never just for practice around here,” she replied coldly. “You’d better remember that.”

They stared at each other for an uncomfortable moment, then Clio nodded curtly. “Are we going up, then?”

Britt laced her hands together and braced herself near Clio. Clio held onto the shelf with one hand and stepped into the stirrup of Britt’s hands. The muscles in Britt’s arms corded when she heaved Clio toward the ceiling. Clio grabbed the edges of the opening and pulled herself through as Britt pushed her from below.

A dark shaft greeted her, and she struggled to contain her claustrophobic response. Tight spaces were the stuff of nightmares. She’d prefer spiders or rats or just about anything to another crawl through the dark. Except nothing was worse than a run-in with the prowlers, from what Britt implied.

There was just enough light to see down the shaft stretching before her. It was pretty big; at least the walls wouldn’t touch her. It could be worse, she told herself. A lot worse.

“Here.” Britt passed her a pencil flashlight. Clio clicked it on right before the light in the closet snapped off.

Cover your tracks was one of the first rules Britt had taught her. Using the bucket and the shelving, Britt boosted herself up with an ease that Clio envied. Clio scrambled backward on her hands and knees, the flashlight pointed at the floor of the tunnel.

“Stay close,” Britt warned.

Britt flipped the cover back down before edging past Clio. She reached back for the flashlight, and Clio passed it to her with some reluctance. The narrow passage went straight ahead before branching off in two directions.

Britt flicked the light up to the roof of the shaft, illuminating the purple symbol that marked the right-hand path. When she tipped the flashlight under her chin, the yellow light turned her grin ghoulish.

“After you,” Britt drawled.

“What’s in the other direction?” Clio asked.

“Don’t know. Haven’t had a chance to find out. Do you want to explore?”

Clio shook her head violently, and Britt snorted.

“Then get going,” Britt ordered. “It’s getting late.”

“Right,” Clio said without enthusiasm. She crawled past Britt, the beam of the flashlight providing tight illumination over her shoulder. Her knees were beginning to hurt, and the close quarters were getting to her. She struggled to keep her breathing even. It seemed loud in her own ears.

The walls aren’t closing in, Clio reassured herself, but her mind still spat out terrible fantasies. She envisioned the shaft narrowing to brush up against her back and arms…until she was forced to wriggle forward on her belly. She’d end up trapped like a specimen in a test tube, unable to turn around or move or breathe–

“Hey!”

The sharp word from behind echoed down the shaft. Clio looked back, and Britt squinted at her.

“It’s just about a hundred more feet,” Britt called evenly. The light wavered and dimmed as Britt caught up, before going out altogether. She cursed and shook the light, but it didn’t brighten.

“We’re almost there,” Britt huffed. “Just keep moving.”

In the utter dark, Britt’s breathing also seemed abnormally loud. Clio found that sound behind her unsettling. After several moments of blind crawling, Clio could almost imagine that it wasn’t Britt behind her–that maybe she’d sent Clio ahead so she could slip back and take the other turn, abandoning Clio in the dark. Maybe the breathing she heard wasn’t Britt’s at all anymore. Any moment she might feel hot breath on the back of her neck–

“Go.”

“Sorry,” Clio blurted. She realized she’d come to a complete stop; she began crawling again, her backpack a deadweight on her back. “What am I looking f–”

Clio gasped, a huge intake of air rushing into her lungs as her groping hands found nothing where she expected solid floor. She overbalanced, lunging forward gracelessly and colliding with the now sloping plane of the shaft. The incline was steep and slippery, and she rushed down on her stomach in the utter darkness.

Her heart lodged in her throat, blocking off her scream. Another of Britt’s rules rang in her head–never scream, even when you need to.

Had Britt set her up? As Clio slid helplessly into the blackness, her eyes went round with horror. She was headed down. Oh, God. To the subbasements. Had Britt sold her out to the prowlers?!

Clio slid out into free fall for one heart-stopping moment, then smacked down onto a pile of something relatively soft. She was too winded to move, but her eyes adjusted to a new glow. A soft, diffuse light seemed to ripple in front of her.

She moved slightly, winced, and bit her lip to keep from groaning. The effort was wasted when Britt landed on top of her a second later. Clio cried out, then whimpered as Britt rolled off and flopped on her back next to her.

“Why the hell didn’t you move?”

Clio unpeeled her face from what she now realized was a gym mat. “I thought you’d tricked me,” she gasped.

“I did,” Britt said with a laugh. “I wish I could’ve seen your face when you first started down.” Her hand rose up and made a violent sweep. “Whooosh!” She chuckled again, and Clio stared in disbelief, wondering what had happened to Britt’s usual reserve.

“I thought you were sending me to them!” Clio blurted.

The laughter stopped abruptly, and Britt sat up. “I would never do that. Not even if…”

Britt looked away and shrugged. “I just wouldn’t,” she said with finality. “Besides, it’s not so bad having you around, even if you do slow me down.” She slanted a tight grin toward Clio. “It’s good to have someone to watch your back.”

The unexpected warmth drew a smile from Clio. She was pleased, despite the backhanded nature of the compliment.

“I thought you said rule number one is not to trust anybody,” Clio said.

“I did. And it’s good advice, but…well…” Britt spread her hands. “I’ve brought you to one of my secret places, so it’s all water under the bridge now.”

The emphasis Britt put on the word brought Clio’s new surroundings into focus. Now she could identify the strong, familiar smell in the air. The odd play of light on the wall came from the reflection of water rippling in a pool. Clio turned her head and inhaled softly in delight.

The pool was huge and the water clear. It lay shortly past their pile of gym mats, filling the rest of the vast room. The air smelled like chlorine–so the water was too well-maintained for this place to be abandoned.

“How is this here?” Clio breathed. “Who takes care of this?”

“Maybe a housecleaning service comes in twice a week to tidy up the place.”

“Right.”

“You think it’s a trap?” Britt asked. She leaned down to murmur in Clio’s ear, “Come into my parlor? said the spider to the fly.”

Clio elbowed her. “That’s not funny.”

“Look, I don’t know.” Britt jumped to the ground and kicked off her sneakers. “It’s been like this since I first found it. I’ve never seen anyone else here. There’s only one way in.” She pointed up. “And one way out. You can’t get back in through the door down here. It locks automatically, but the doors are smooth on the other side. Nothing to pick.”

Clio slid off the pile of mats and walked to the edge of the pool, looking into it as if she expected to see circling sharks.

Britt smirked. “I haven’t seen you this jumpy since that drooler came out of the closet.”

“Shut up. And don’t call them that.” Clio shuddered. “I hate them worse than the prowlers.”

“You shouldn’t. The prowlers are just like us–smart and fast. The droolers aren’t much of a threat.”

“They’re the ones that give me the creeps,” Clio insisted. “It’s like their eyes don’t even see. They just come at you with that slow, blind shuffle.”

“Better than a fast sprint.”

Clio frowned. “What do you think happened to them? Drugs? Lobotomies? That brochure makes it sound like this place could’ve been some treatment facility. Do you think the…the owners did this to them?”

“Who knows?” Britt tossed as she started unfastening her pants. She was single-minded when she’d set out to do something. “Maybe they were conducting experiments. Maybe we’ll come across their secret laboratories one day–find jars of mutant rats and disembodied human brains.”

Clio gave a grudging laugh. “You really aren’t helping.”

“Maybe they’re what we’ll turn into if we can’t found a way out.”

Any trace of humor within Clio evaporated, and a sick feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. “That won’t happen to me,” she said shakily. “I’m getting out of here.”

“You do that.” Britt’s pants fell to the floor with a soft rustle. “But first–I’m going for a swim.”

Clio nodded and stepped back. She dropped her backpack on the smooth cement floor.

“This just seems too good to be true,” Clio murmured. “Something this nice…none of it makes sense. Are you sure it’s safe here?”

“First you complain about the supply closet,” Britt said with a grunt. “And now this, when I finally take you someplace nice. Really?” Britt pulled off her tank top. “It’s not safe anywhere. Would you rather be not safe in some ratty hole upstairs, or down here having a swim?” She lifted one ankle to tug off a sock. “There are showers, too.”

“Really?” Clio looked at her with undisguised hope.

“Hot showers.” Standing in just her bra and underwear, Britt grinned. “Swim first, though.” She went to unfasten her bra, and Clio blushed and turned away.

A moment later, Britt dove into the pool; Clio jumped in surprise as a splash soaked her. An unwilling grin tugged her lips when Britt came up out of the water and laughed, unrepentant.

“Come on,” Britt coaxed. “All work and no play…”

Makes Jack a dull boy. Goosebumps rose up on Clio’s arms, and for an instant she looked at Britt with distrust.

What’s really going on here?

Proceed to Chapter 2, page 3–>