Where Darkness Dwells Read Free Page B

water, on the far side of the lake.
    "Where?"
    "Just the other side of the water."
    "Can't see nothing… Wait… I think I know what you mean. A wavery light. It's dim."
    They both edged to the shore, standing shoulder to shoulder, trying to pick up the slightest detail. It was so quiet, the blood throbbed in George's ears as he strained to hear.
    They nearly leapt from their skins as heavy chains rattled from somewhere near the phantom light.
    Chains? George thought. "Shit. Let's get out of here."
    "Wait, that could be someone. Give me a second." He stepped into the water. "Damn cold."
    "What are you doing? You crazy?"
    "Yeah, I think I just might be." Jimmy waded deeper. "There it is, found the drop off. It's maybe eight, ten feet in. Then it's deep as hell." His splashing increased as he dog paddled away from shore. "It is a light, George. There's an overhang. Might be a tunnel or something. The light's down the other side."
    "Come on now, Jimmy. We should find our way back the way we came."
    "What fun is that? Someone must've lit that fire, so there must be someone to help us get the hell out'a here."
    "Shit, Jimmy," George said, mostly to himself. Even trapped in darkness and without a light to guide their way, George couldn't stop thinking: Jimmy Fowler's gonna be a dad. Who would've thought? His friend risked everything swimming in water as cold as a witch's tit, and with White Bane possibly nipping just under his feet. "Jimmy?"
    "Huh?"
    "You all right?" Feeling abandoned, George wanted to leave Jimmy and find his way back out. But he couldn't leave his friend behind. And White Bane? Nothing but an old lady's story that no one believed in the first place. Or so he hoped.
    "Sure. Little cold's all."
    "Hold up, will you? I'm coming with."
    "That's just what I wanted to hear."
    George took the matchbox from his pocket and placed it atop his tackle box. His dad's gun leaned against a boulder nearby. He wanted to take it with him--there was no way he wanted to discover the firelight's source without it--but it would be useless if it got wet. He wasn't as good a swimmer as Jimmy. He'd never be able to swim with the gun held overhead. He left it behind, noting the location as he stepped into the water.
    Jimmy treaded water, waiting. As George swam out to meet him, he noticed he could actually make out his face. The firelight from down the tunnel was brighter, but the ceiling was a mere foot above the water.
    "See what I mean? There has to be people over there. Even if it's just hoboes."
    "If we're going to go, let's go. I can't swim as good as you." George struggled to keep his head above water. His soaked clothes pulled at him as if he had rocks in his pockets. "Just be careful."
    "Careful? I'm always careful." Jimmy's tone was full of glee, happy to continue the adventure. He reached overhead as he entered the tunnel. "Not much room to spare. There's no tide in an underground lake is there?"
    "You're joking, right?"
    "Do I ever joke around? I'm as serious as the Spanish flu." Jimmy laughed, venturing farther. "Hey, once inside you can stand. On tip-toes, I can reach the bottom."
    "Thank God." With the water lapping at George's ears, he was relieved when his toes finally touched the tunnel bottom.
    "Come on, hurry up," Jimmy called out as he pulled away from George, unable to contain his excitement.
    The icy water pressed against George's sternum as he trudged through the tunnel. Jimmy's wet head bobbed some twenty feet ahead. He reached the far end and cut a sharp right, out of sight.
    It was just like Jimmy to leave him behind even though he was struggling. Sometimes he had no consideration at all. "Jimmy, wait up. I'm almost there." Violent shivers racked his body. The ceiling pulled closer to the water, forcing George to weave around low points where rock and water touched.
    Jimmy didn't answer. The light brightened, and George could see torches hanging from the far wall. He was panicking now. He couldn't turn around,