Watcher in the Woods Read online

  TUESDAY, 4 : 31 P . M .

  They searched the house and found nothing. Even the secret door in the wall was shut and looking just as it should. David was glad that Xander had heard Taksidian pound on the locker door. Otherwise, he would have wondered if his family really believed everything he had said about that afternoon. After the search, Dad and Toria went to the kitchen to start dinner. David and Xander found themselves in the MCC.

  “Why didn’t you let me tell Dad about last night, about going through the portal to the Civil War?” David said in a harsh whisper.

  Xander squatted by the rolls of movie posters. He picked up one and unrolled it just enough to see what movie it advertised. “If we tell him now, he won’t let us go back into it.”

  “What? To that same world? Why would we want to?”

  Xander raised his eyebrows at him. “Because we’re trying to find Mom, remember?”

  “Dad knows that,” David said. “He’s not against us going over. He just wants to do it safely.”

  Xander dropped the poster and picked up another one. “And what does that mean, exactly? I don’t even think Dad knows. Why isn’t he up here now, planning a trip through a portal to find Mom, instead of downstairs making dinner?”

  “Xander, I almost got killed last night—again! I thought we agreed we can’t just hop into these worlds, grab Mom, and bring her back. Not unless she happens to be strolling around right where we appear, and that doesn’t seem very likely. And it’s like everywhere we go, someone’s trying to kill us. Xander, listen to me!” He waited for his brother to look at him. “I’m totally with you—but we need Dad too. We need to do this smart.” David’s shoulders dropped, and he couldn’t help feeling a little sorry for himself and a lot sorry for Mom.

  Xander dropped the poster and stood. “All right, but let’s do one thing that will show Dad we aren’t just being . . . rebellious. Let’s show him that our hearts are in the right place.”

  “How?”

  “He’s the one who suggested putting something in each world that Mom would recognize so she’ll know we’re looking for her.”

  “Bob,” David said.

  Xander nodded. “But Dad didn’t know if it would stay there after we left. We don’t want to be going through all these worlds, taking the time to leave a message for her in each one just to have it disappear from that world when we come back to the house. If we can just give Dad something solid, a positive yes-it’s-still-there or no-it’s-not . . .” He shrugged. “Then at least he’d know.”

  “A rule,” David said. “Dad likes to know the rules. But how are we going to—”

  “We go back and look. Right now. All we have to do is go in, see if Bob is still on the tent, and get out.”

  David glared at his brother. His stomach and throat were so tight he wasn’t sure he could speak, but he did: “Xander, I can’t. The bullets were like . . . I mean, I heard them zipping past my head. I . . .”

  “Okay, okay,” Xander said. “Then, just come up with me. Help me find the room and wait for me. In case I need you.”

  “Don’t go.”

  “I have to, Dae.” He stepped over the posters to grip David’s good arm. “Look around. This room is all we’ve done to find Mom.” He shook his head, obviously frustrated. “You stepped into that World War II village, but that was almost an accident. We’re supposed to be doing something.”

  David bit his lip. “We promised: no more secrets. Dad’s told us how many times, Xander? The portals are off-limits . . . at least when he’s not with us. It’s only been two days since Mom was taken. Give Dad some time—”

  “We don’t have time!” Xander said forcefully, but not with enough volume to warn Dad of their argument. “Mom doesn’t have time.” He closed his eyes, then opened them slowly. “Let’s do this one thing.”

  “When does the sneaking stop?” David asked. “First Dad didn’t tell us the real reason we moved here. Then we started sneaking through portals into other worlds, even after Dad told us not to. When does it stop, Xander?”

  Xander held up his index finger. He said, “After this one thing. Dad would say, ‘No, it’s too dangerous. We don’t know enough yet.’ But maybe if he saw progress—you know, if we showed him that the way to learn things, to get closer to finding Mom, is to go over and not just talk about it—then maybe he’d get going and do something.”

  David just frowned.

  Xander continued: “When you wanted to see for yourself what those doors were all about, when you thought Dad was going to take us away, you said you’d go over with or without me.”

  David’s eyes narrowed. “So?”

  “So, I’m going to do this whether you help or not.”

  “That’s not fair. That was before Mom—”

  “Are you in or out, Dae? That’s all I need to know.”

  Xander was probably right that Dad would nix this plan in a heartbeat. It was also likely that handing Dad proof that they were learning about the other worlds would psych him up to take more action.

  But they had promised. How many more broken promises would it take for Dad to completely lose his trust in them? Then he would definitely take them away, because he wouldn’t be able to trust them to be safe.

  In the end, it was the determination in Xander’s face that made up David’s mind. He said, “I’ll help you this one last time. But I mean it, Xander. No more secrets. We do this as a family . . . or not at all.”

  Xander smiled. “Agreed.” He stood there, waiting for something.

  “What?” David said.

  “I need to hear you say it, man. Come on, for me.”

  David gave him a lopsided grin. He said, “Let’s do it.”

  David and Xander each took one side of the hallway. They moved from door to door, checking each antechamber for the Civil War items they had worn the night before.

  “Dae,” Xander said. He was clearly thinking something through. “If you see the items from when Dad and I went over—you know, the picnic stuff—let me know. We can find out what we need there too.”

  “Bob?” David asked.

  “Yeah. Remember I said Dad carved him into a tree?”

  David opened a door and saw a well-used painter’s smock, a rosary, a wooden mallet, and some other things that were definitely not related to the Civil War. He closed the door and moved on to the next one. When he reached the end of the crooked hall, he started back, looking into the rooms he had seen just minutes before. It gave him an uneasy feeling to find that the items inside each one had already changed. Where the smock, rosary, and mallet had been were now a bridle, reins, and riding crop.

  On the third lap through the doors, David said, “Dad’s going to wonder where we are.”

  Xander opened and closed a door, then headed for the next one. “He’s got spaghetti with meat sauce cooking. I can smell it. That always takes forever. Besides, when dinner’s ready, he’ll probably send Toria—” He opened a door and stopped, then smiled at David. “Bingo.”

  CHAPTER forty - four

  MIDWAY INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT, CHICAGO

  Keal looked like he was going to be sick. His face glistened with sweat. His eyes kept darting one direction, then another.

  Jesse stretched out his fingers and patted the back of Keal’s hand. The big black man actually jumped in his chair.

  Jesse smiled. “It’s okay.”

  “Okay?” Keal whispered. He lowered his head, even though they were the only people in the waiting area of Gate A19. “I’ve kidnapped you, man.” He snapped his head up and shot glances all around.

  “It’s not kidnapping if I asked you to take me.”

  “You don’t understand,” Keal said. “You’re an old man in a nursing home where I work. They’ll say I took you against your will or that I took advantage of your senility to talk you into coming with me.”

  “I’m not senile.”

  “You’re old,” Keal said, making the word sound like a disease. He tapped his t
emple. “They’ll say you’ve lost it, even if you haven’t.”

  Jesse shook his head. “Why would you want to kidnap me?”

  Keal started to say something, then stopped. His eyes snapped to a police officer strolling casually along the concourse. He waggled a finger at Jesse, and his deep voice grew even quieter. “All I’m saying is you better be right.”

  Jesse pulled in a long breath. He frowned and scrunched his brows together, then said, “You’re doing the right thing, Keal. I appreciate it.”

  “I mean,” Keal said, “I don’t want anyone to be in danger, but when we get there, there better be people to save, you know?”

  “There will be,” Jesse said. He got hold of Keal’s big hand again and squeezed. “You wouldn’t believe how many people you’re saving by taking me home.”

  He leaned back in his wheelchair. A sign behind the empty counter confirmed that the gate serviced a flight that would take them to Redding, California—a ninety-minute drive from Pinedale. It was scheduled to leave in just under two hours.

  Jesse caught Keal looking at him with unsure eyes, and he smiled again. He whispered, “Thank you,” then lowered his eyelids to catch a few winks before takeoff.

  CHAPTER forty - five

  TUESDAY, 6 : 50 P. M.

  David paced the little room. From the portal to the open hallway door, he could take only five good steps. No wonder he had crashed so painfully into the door the night before. The other direction, from the bench to the wall, was only three steps. He supposed it was all the space that was required: pick up a map, throw on some clothes, maybe change your shoes. What more did you need to venture into a different world? He looked at the gray coat hanging from a hook. It was still dirty from when he had hit the ground, trying to keep a musket ball from taking off his head. Perhaps he should have gone over with Xander again, but every time he thought of those soldiers firing at him, he felt sick.

  Just come back, Xander. Please.

  David didn’t wear a watch, but he felt his brother had been gone fifteen minutes or so. If he had stepped onto the same battlefield they had the night before, he should be able to reach the tents and find the portal home in about five more minutes.

  He heard footsteps pounding toward him, and he froze. Someone was hurrying up the stairs.

  Toria’s voice reached him: “Xander! David! Are you up here?” Her voice was shrill with panic, and he realized she wasn’t calling them for dinner.

  He stepped into the hallway. “Here!” David said. “What is it?”

  Toria bounded into the hallway and stopped. Her eyes were wide. “Cops!” she said, out of breath. “They’re at the door. Dad’s arguing with them. They want us to leave.”

  David looked back into the antechamber at the closed portal door. Could he just leave Xander? Would it be okay? He thought about propping open the hallway door—maybe that would keep anything from happening up here while he ran down to find out what was going on. But if he’d learned anything about the house, it was that it would do what it wanted to do. It didn’t matter if they propped open a door or locked it or whatever. Maybe by the time David got downstairs, Dad would have taken care of the situation, and David could be back before Xander returned.

  He strode toward Toria. “What’s Dad doing?”

  “Nothing, just saying they don’t have the right to make us leave.”

  David darted around her and raced down the hidden staircase. Hearing angry voices, he paused at the secret doorway in the upstairs hall.

  “I don’t care what that piece of paper says,” Dad said. “You can’t just—”

  “Sir, where are the children?”

  “That’s my business. Hey! Hey! I said no, you can’t come in!”

  Toria stepped up behind David. She whispered, “Where’s Xander?”

  “Shhh.” He walked past the MCC and turned into the second floor’s main hallway. The voices were booming up from the foyer. Stopping at the top of the stairs, he couldn’t believe what was happening in the entryway below.

  The door was open, and two uniformed police officers were grabbing at Dad. One seized his arm and twisted it, forcing him to spin around. They pushed him face-first into the wall. David saw a flash of bright metal and realized they were about to slap handcuffs on his father.

  “Daddy!” Toria screamed and ran past David. He tried to stop her, but she slipped out of his grasp and started down the stairs.

  The handcuffs clicked, binding Dad’s wrists behind his back. One of the cops pushed his hand into Dad’s back, keeping Dad’s cheek pressed against the wall as though it were glued there. Dad strained to get a look at Toria coming down the stairs.

  “Stay there, honey!” Dad yelled.

  “Come here, sweetheart,” the other cop said, gesturing with his hand.

  Toria braked before reaching the foyer. “Daddy?”

  Dad’s eyes rolled and found David. “David, where’s Xander?”

  “He’s . . . uh . . .”

  “Go get him!”

  “But . . .”

  The cop who’d spoken to Toria was looking at David now. He said, “Come down here, son.”

  “No!” Dad yelled. “David, go get your brother.”

  A movement in the open doorway caught David’s attention. Taksidian stepped into view and leaned casually against the frame. He took in the scene, then his eyes flicked up to David. The man smiled thinly.

  Dad caught sight of him. He said, “Is he why you’re doing this? That man wants my house!”

  The cop holding him spun him around. “We don’t know about that, sir. We’re just doing our jobs.”

  The other cop beckoned to David again. “Son, you’ll have to come with us.”

  David backed away from the stairs. He was about to turn and run when he heard a sound. It was the click! of a door handle’s latch. It had come from down the hall, toward Xander and David’s bedroom.

  Toward the linen closet!

  Just as the thought came to him, the closet door swung open. Already beating impossibly fast, his heart went into overdrive.

  Clayton stepped out of the closet and looked around, wide-eyed and openmouthed. He looked as though he thought he was dreaming. He squinted at David, and said, “King David?”

  David was sure his own expression was just as stunned.

  “Who’s that?” asked one of the cops below—from the foyer, the closet was out of sight.

  The other answered, “Must be the older boy. Both of you, come on down!”

  David glanced over the banister at the men, their faces turned up, growing impatient. Realizing something was up, Taksidian’s smile faded. He scowled at David.

  Without a word, David headed toward Clayton. If he simply left him there, eventually the kid would find the cops or the cops would find him—then he’d start talking: I stepped into a locker at school and wound up here! No, really! David wasn’t sure exactly what he could do to prevent that, but he had to do something. Should he take Clayton with him to get Xander? What if he didn’t want to come? The boy was bigger than David; it wasn’t like David could just drag him—especially past the cops. Even if he could take him, that would mean showing Clayton the third floor. It was enough he’d found the locker-to-closet portal; did they really want him knowing everything?

  The bully was standing in the closet doorway, his fingers on the handle. As David approached, Clayton’s face twisted into a nasty smirk. “What kind of freak-thing you got going on here, twerp?”

  David put his palm on Clayton’s chest and shoved him back into the closet.

  Clayton’s eyes flashed wide as he fell back. “Hey—!”

  David slammed the door shut. He heard a whoosh of air from the gap under the door: Clayton was heading back to the locker. David went into his bedroom, grabbed a chair, and dragged it into the hall. He wedged the seat back under the closet’s door handle. He leaned close to listen. No sound from inside. It wouldn’t take long for Clayton to figure out that he could return to the
house by opening and closing the locker door. Then what? He’d start pounding.

  At least this bought David some time. Maybe Clayton would be too freaked-out to come back. Maybe the cops would leave before he returned. Maybe Xander would have a plan.

  Too many maybes!

  David ran down the hall, intent on finding his brother. As he passed the foyer, a cop yelled up: “Hey, kid! Stop! Hold it right there!”

  David rounded the corner and shot through the passageway where the fake wall was hinged open. He turned and pulled it closed, tugging until he heard it click. Then he bolted up the stairs. Xander wasn’t in the antechamber when he got there. Panting, David stared at the door, willing it to open, willing his brother to step through. Gritting his teeth, thinking of nothing else to do, he yanked the gray jacket off the hook and slipped it on.

  Maybe I can take it off when I get there, he thought. Roll it up under my shirt before they start shooting at me.

  His stomach lurched. His guts tightened in fear, and he had to close his eyes until the feeling passed.

  Got to find Xander. As soon as I get there, I’ll just run, run straight for the camp.

  He reached up for the dirty gray kepi.

  The portal door burst open. Blinding sunlight. A gust of wind blew in. Smoke stung his nostrils. Grains of dirt peppered his cheeks.

  The door slammed shut again. The smoke and dirt whipped out through the cracks.

  In the center of the floor, Xander crouched on his hands and knees, his shoulders rising and falling. His breathing was deep and fast.

  “Xander!” David yelled. He dropped onto his knees in front of his brother, then reached out with his good arm and grabbed Xander’s bicep. “Xander, downstairs—”

  “Listen,” Xander interrupted. He raised his face. It was scratched and filthy. His eyes were wide with excitement, rimmed with tears.

  “We need you,” David said. “Dad’s—”

  “Dae!” Loud. In his face. Xander rose up to grip David’s shoulders. “I found her!”

  David’s lungs locked up. A tingling sensation coursed up his arms and over the back of his neck like electricity.