Down World Rebecca Phelps (primary phonics .txt) 📖

his lips on me, knowing that it was a memory that would probably return to me in the middle of the night for a very long time.

“Go,” I whispered. And I watched him walk out the door. He didn’t slow down, and he didn’t look back at me. He walked out of the diner, turned the corner, and disappeared past the window.

And then he was gone.

It was a cold and silent walk back to the hotel. Only Sage, Caryn, and Milo came with me, and none of them had seemed too surprised when I told them that Brady had gone to the train station. “One less problem to worry about,” Milo had said.

We walked normally and quite calmly until we reached the perimeter of the nicer part of town. It was a noticeable difference, with everything from the buildings to the sidewalks taking on a polish and style that was completely lacking back in the poorer quarters. Everything turned green, and little boxes with doggy waste bags were even set up every several feet so the rich society matrons could clean up after their Labradors and poodles.

Sage whispered to me. “Do what we do.”

She and the others bowed their heads, sticking out their hands slightly and shuffling past the pedestrians—of which there were many, despite the late hour—with a subservient air about them.

Every now and then, Sage would speak to a passerby in a low tone that I could barely make out. “Donation, citizen?”

The well-heeled people would invariably say no, or shake their heads and keep walking. As we got closer to the hotel, Sage stopped asking, and soon I realized people were avoiding us altogether. There was one couple, decked out for the evening in the most beautifully ornate clothes, who actually crossed the street when they saw us coming. That’s when I realized that Sage didn’t actually want donations. It was a ploy to scare people away from us.

And it seemed to be working. We were all but invisible as we approached the hotel. “Walk past it,” Sage whispered, and we all did.

Once we’d gone several feet beyond the main gate, Sage and the others, as part of some secret plan that they seemed to have already worked out, slowly turned and started walking back again. Soon, just as Sage had said, all the perimeter lights surrounding the hotel, which had been illuminating the sidewalk and all the nearby foliage, turned off.

“Now,” Milo whispered with urgency, and he grabbed my wrist and led me around the corner, down what had once been the alley that Brady and I had traversed to find the side door. But here, there was a fence that ran the length of the walkway. We continued down alongside it until we reached a different chain-link fence straight ahead with a row of thick trees behind it. I couldn’t see anything past the trees, but I knew from where we were standing that we were probably near the lap pool I had seen earlier.

“Stand watch,” said Sage, commanding Milo and Caryn, who both assumed sentinel-like positions facing outward. I quickly followed suit, relieved that I didn’t see anyone coming. Sage got down on her knees and started feeling along the base of the chain-link. “Got it.”

There was a very slight rip running up and down the intertwining links. Sage took a pair of pliers out of her bag and used them to peel the fence open along the slit, creating an opening just big enough for a person to worm through, lying flat on the ground. I immediately threw myself down to give it a shot.

“Wait,” said Milo. “Do you want to cut yourself?”

“Boy, she is anxious,” said Sage.

“Can you blame her?” asked Caryn, who had lost a bit of her earlier energy, ever since hearing that Brady wouldn’t be joining us.

“Wrap yourself in this,” instructed Sage, who took a thick wool blanket out of her bag. “Or you’ll cut yourself on the edges.”

I wrapped the blanket around myself tightly, then got down on my stomach and shuffled my way, quite awkwardly, through the opening, managing to snag the blanket only a couple of times. Once I was through, I handed the blanket to Milo, and he did the same, followed by Caryn, and lastly Sage.

Once on the other side, I wanted to run immediately.

“Wait,” Sage whispered again, clearly losing patience with me. She took her pliers and carefully folded the fence back into place behind us. “They send someone to check the grounds every thirty minutes. If they find this, it’s over.”

I nodded, again feeling guilty that I was being such an imposition to them. But I couldn’t help myself. We were so close to the lake, I was bubbling over inside. Just knowing that my father was there waiting for me, that soon I could throw myself into his arms and truly feel safe again, was enough to make me stop thinking clearly.

Still, I followed my three guides as quietly as possible, and tried to always stay a step behind as we made the long and silent journey down the winding path to the lake.

“Almost there,” Sage said, and once again, she reached into her bag. Holding out one hand, she motioned for all of us to stop behind her. She pulled something out that looked like a small piece of metal, and soon she held it to her lips and blew out a perfect imitation of an owl call.

A moment later, another owl call responded from the woods by the lake. Sage blew hers one more time, and within seconds the other one echoed back. I realized, peering through the darkness in the direction of the water, that it was probably coming from George’s cabin.

“We’re clear,” Sage whispered, and we all started walking towards the source of the other call. Something that George had said earlier came back to me then. He stayed by the lake to make sure the men in the uniforms never found out about the portal. He