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27

The Lowdown

It was Lore who caught Owen as he stepped off the staircase and into the hallway. She was quick to steady him so he didn’t fall. Her hands on his shoulders, she told him what was happening calmly, but quickly: “We seem to be in a house. Or a hallway, at least. I have no idea where. The forest is gone. So are the stairs. We’re all here. Our phones do not work yet, no signal.” A pause. “You okay?”

Owen exhaled and blinked.

“Yeah,” he said. And he was. Lore’s concision actually helped. Part of him wanted to question why she was being nice to him—maybe she appreciated him following after her. Or maybe these were just extraordinary circumstances.

Hamish leaned against the wall, mumbling to himself. Nick stood at the far end of the hallway, staring at a door. He touched the doorknob, not yet turning it.

“I want to open it,” Nick said, agitated. Impatient.

“ No, ” Lore said. “Just…wait. This place isn’t right.”

Owen felt it. She was right. The air made him feel ill. Like there was a white noise frequency all around them. His head felt strange, too. That feeling of being watched—someone’s gaze boring its way into the back of your skull.

Lore met Owen’s gaze one more time, conveying what he felt was the psychic message of You’re okay, one last time. A curt nod, then she headed toward Nick to ease him away from the door.

Owen, meanwhile, walked to Hamish.

“This is fucked,” Owen said. He tried to summon some courage. “You good?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Hamish said, except, no, he was not good.

“We’ll be all right.”

“We made our choice.” Said as if Hamish were trying to convince himself that it was both true and that it was the right thing. “We’re here now.”

“We are, yeah.”

Hamish craned his head to look up at Owen.

“I’m surprised you came.”

“Not more surprised than I am.”

“You shoulda stayed. I’m sorry.”

Owen’s gaze drifted upward, to the message slashed into the wallpaper—

THIS PLACE HATES YOU.

“Fucked up, right?” Hamish asked, standing just beneath it.

“Yeah.”

His brain whispered that phrase back at him a few more times—

This place hates you…

This place hates you…

This place hates you…

“Hello?” Hamish yelled suddenly, a nervous edge to his voice. “Anybody home?” Quieter now: “Somebody’s gotta fucking be here. Right? Shit.”

Nick and Lore both shushed him. “Christ, Ham,” Nick said.

“Sorry.”

The four of them met in the middle of the hallway.

“I guess let’s split up—” Nick started to say.

“No,” Lore said, firmly. “We do not split up. Not yet. Not until we know what we’re dealing with here. This doesn’t feel right.”

“Jeez, what doesn’t feel right?” Hamish asked sarcastically. “It’s totally normal to walk up a set of steps in the middle of the woods and appear in some weird fucking hallway with some weird fucking message.”

Nick threw up his hands. “We just need to pick a door and go through it. What’s the big fucking deal? Let’s move.”

“Lore’s right,” Owen said. He felt it, too. Something in the air. Something in the pit of his stomach. Turning over and over again. Restless and sick. For a moment, he thought he heard something: voices, mumbling, murmuring. But then it was gone again. “We should stick together. Horror movie rules.”

“Besides,” Lore added, “Matty split up and we didn’t go with him, and look what happened then. We need to stick tight.”

“Pick a door, then,” Nick said.

And then, as they all stood around, trying to think their way through a course of action—

A phone rang.