Posted on May 21, 2008

The Hole: Part 72

“Where do we go?” Elliot said.

“I don’t know. Do you know?”

“No.”

Evajean looked around. “I thought I’d just feel it,” she said. “Like back in the house at the barrier.”

“Yeah.”

“But I don’t.”

“I don’t either,” Elliot said.

Evajean walked ahead of him, to the back of the garage where a railing ran along an elevated concrete walkway. Two doors were along its far wall and, as Elliot swept his light across them, he could see that the one on the right was partially open. “There,” he said.

“It’s where I’m going,” Evajean said.

The garage lead to a large office space, filled with cubicles, and then into the museum proper. They came out behind a ticket desk.

“You’re not going to like this,” Evajean said.

“What?”

“What we’re supposed to find– I’m getting a feeling about it.”

“Yeah?”

“From the basement.”

Elliot sighed.

“I’ll come with you this time,” Evajean said.

“Yeah, you will,” Elliot said. “Do you know what it is? What we’re looking for?”

“No.”

“But it’s in here, in the museum.”

“I’m pretty sure it is. Actually, no, I’m positive it’s here.”

“Then let’s find the basement.”

Their shoes were loud on the polished concrete floor. The museum wasn’t as claustrophic as Wal-Mart had been, but Elliot still wished there was more light than just the pair of beems from the flashlights they carried. There wasn’t any sign of crazies, no noises or shuffles. Elliot kept their pace up, walking through the wide halls, scanning for signs marked “Basement” or “Storage.”

“It’s getting stronger,” Evajean said when they gone the full length of one hall and turned left into another.

“The feeling?”

“Yeah,” she said. “It’s this way, I think.”

A smaller passage branched off the main hallway, an alcove of bathrooms, drinking fountains, and a door at the far end without a label. “It won’t be locked,” Evajean said as they approached.

Elliot looked at her. “You know that?”

“This feeling, it’s– Elliot, it’s the weirdest thing ever. I’ve done this before, that’s what it’s like. I’ve seen all this or lived it–dreamed it, maybe. You’re not getting it, too?”

“No.”

“I wonder why not.”

“I don’t know,” Elliot said. He remembered her in the middle of Nahom, standing with the golden box over her head, the crazies dying all around them. He remembered what she’d said and the burst of light that followed. What was she? “Let’s try it, then,” he said and reached for the door.

It fell open at his touch, swinging back on silent hinges. Beyond was a set of stairs leading down.

“Told you,” Evajean said.

“I’ll go first,” Elliot said and started down. Unlike the basement of that terrible house, these stairs were solid, industrial grade. They didn’t squeek and they didn’t give under his weight.

At the bottom, the room opened out onto an expanse of six foot high shelves in rows, filling an area that had to be close to the size of the museum’s entire first floor. On the shelves were cardboard boxes, metal cages, and plastic bins. Stuff between all these were rolls and sheets of paper, some new and others faded and crumbling.

“Storage,” Evajean said, taking a step past him and looking around.

“I hope you know where this thing is.”

“I will,” Evajean said. “I just need to get closer.”

She walked out into the room, along one of the rows of shelves, and Elliot followed. “You think it’s all the stuff they couldn’t fit in the exhibits?” Evajean asked.

“Maybe,” Elliot said. He pulled a bin out from a shelf and looked inside. It was filled with packaged of various sizes, from a small as a golf ball up to perhaps a human skull, all wrapped in brown paper and tied with twine. He lifted one and found it heavy. “I bet these are rocks,” he said. “Maybe all this is for research. Palentology, archeology, that sort of thing.”

“There sure is a lot of it.”

Elliot dropped the package and slid the bin back into place. “You getting anything?”

Evajean turned to him and shrugged. “Maybe. It’s hard to tell. I wish I knew what it was, what I was looking for.”

“I don’t think that’d help much,” Elliot said. “Not in all this.”

“Let’s keep going,” Evajean said. “It’s here, I know that.”

They’d made it to the end of that room and two-thirds down the next one when Evajean held up her hand. “We’re close,” she said. “It’s like… a tingle, in my hands and stomach. I know we’re close.” She walked to one of the shelves, stopped, shook her head, and headed to another. “Where are you?” she whispered.

Something crashed upstairs. A bang rattled the ceiling, kicking up dust, and then a tremor went through the room. Evajean stumbled and fell against a shelf before Elliot could catch her. “What the hell was that?” he said when the shaking stopped.

Evajean stared at him, eyes wide. “Was that– Is there someone here?”

“Quiet.”

But there was no further sound. Elliot gave it at least a minute, crouched next to an enormous cardboard box, leaning close to Evajean, a hand on her knee. He tried not to breathe. And he heard nothing. Finally, he said, “It was just an earth–”

“No,” Evajean said. “No, if it was an earthquake, why’d it start upstairs? Why didn’t we feel it and then have the crash, instead of the other way around?”

Elliot shook his head. He had no idea. He stood up. “Let’s find this thing before it happens again. I want to get out of here as soon as possible.”

“We’re close,” Evajean said. She began searching the shelves once more, though faster this time.

A couple minutes later she called out, “It’s here! Elliot, I found it.” He rushed over. She was pulling a box out from a shelf. Like all the rest, it was cardboard, and about the size of thick hardcover book. The box had been sealed with packaging tape, gone yellow and crackly with age.

“Open it,” she said, holding it out to him.

Elliot took it. The box was light and felt slightly damp. He tucked it under his arm. “Outside,” he said. “We’ll open it then. But I want to get out of here, first.”

Evajean looked disappointed, but nodded. “Okay,” she said.

They ran back to the steps and up into the little alcove.