That sound, however, was not nearly so important to me as the one that Ihadn’theard.
When Phelps had shut the door to the shed, in his haste, he had closed the lock without looking. And I hadn’t heard aclick.
CHAPTER 13
This time, I took no chances. No more following people through the dark and diving for cover. I armed myself with a candle and matches, though I didn’t dare light them in the woods. It seemed unlikely that anyone would see it, with the doctor gone and Phelps thankfully not staying at the house overnight. Nevertheless, I did not want to get into the shed and find myself stumbling around blind.
Could it really be unlocked? Really? Was I finally about to learn what Halder was experimenting on?
Don’t get your hopes up. You might just have missed the click, that’s all.
But if you didn’t, then you’ll know soon.
Dusk spread ultramarine shadows under the trees, then deepened into dark. I paced the studio restlessly, unable to settle.Soon. Soon.
I thought I had successfully buried my curiosity, but apparently I had only shoved it down to fester into obsession. When I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I looked almost feverish. Two spots of color burned high on my cheeks, a rose madder wash on cold white skin.
Soon.
I waited until I heard Mrs. Kent leave, waited a little longer, then slipped out the door and into the woods.
The walk to the shed took far too long, and I forgot it all instantly the moment that I arrived. It was a dark night and the shadows were thick around the shed. At least, I thought it wasdark? My vision seemed odd somehow, the edges bright with pinpricks of light, but it didn’t make it any easier to see.
Calm down. Your heart is pounding like you’ve been running.
I shook myself. Regardless of the darkness, it was easy to make out the heavy lock. I put out a hand, my heart in my throat, and tugged down.
It opened without a sound.
My god, my god, it’s open, it’s really open!
With nerveless fingers, I slid the lock from the hasp and hung it back on the door. I stepped over the threshold, swung the door shut behind me, and stood in darkness. When I reached out, the fabric of the drape caught my fingers.
Steady… steady…
I took the matches from my pocket.You’re going to feel awfully silly if you light that thing and the room really is full of gunpowder. Unless you drop the match and then you won’t feel anything for long.
Ah yes, that rare gunpowder that eats live chickens, I snapped back at myself, and lit the match, then the candle.
The space between the drape and the wall was only wide enough for the door to open. Behind the door was a peg with something hanging from it, something so oddly incongruous that I paused with my hand on the drape. It looked like a lady’s hat with a veil.Huh. That’s strange.
Unlike everything else about this situation, which is totally normal.
I pushed the drape aside. The stairs yawned below me. Something flickered in their depths, and for an instant I thought there was someone else down there, until I realized I was looking at a reflection. The early summer rains had left at least three inches of water on the floor of the hollowed-out room.
There, I told myself triumphantly.No one stores gunpowder in ankle-deep water.Fortunately, I was wearing my sturdy boots.I hitched my skirt up to keep the hem dry and descended the staircase.
The first thing that came into view was a wooden table. It held a chipped enamel pan and what looked like a pair of rusted forceps, but nothing else of interest.
My last step onto the floor splashed instead of squelched. Someone had laid boards down over the clay. It felt surprisingly solid underfoot. Burlap had been tacked up over the walls and boards covered the ceiling as well, braced and re-braced.
I had only a moment to take that in, however. My attention was immediately claimed by the second table in the back of the room.
The one with the corpse laid out atop it.
It was very obviously a corpse. No living human, even in the farthest extremes of starvation, could look like that. The ribs were etched so deeply that I could have fit my hand into the grooves between them. Skin and hair still clung to the body, otherwise I would have called it a skeleton.
Strangely, I was not frightened. I had seen skeletons before. Art students use them to study anatomy. I took a step forward, the water splashing around my feet, and lifted my candle higher.
