4
Michael stopped right past the threshold of the doorway. He could sense his friends at his back, but no one made a move to urge him on. He was sure that they wanted to walk down the hallway as much as he did. Which was not at all.
Bare lightbulbs, like the ones from the haunted-house hallway, hung from the ceiling to illuminate the two lines of people, and Michael suddenly missed the darkness they’d been surrounded by for so long. The strangers stood as still as carved rock, every pair of eyes trained on Michael and his friends.
Michael focused on the ones closest to him. To his right was a woman, her skin as pale as the moon. She wore a white dress, wrinkled but clean. Her dark eyes bore into Michael’s, and it seemed that she might open her mouth to speak to him at any second.
Directly across from her, to Michael’s left, was a man in a black suit. He was just as pale as the woman and just as still, but his right arm was held out halfway from his body, the fingers spread apart.
Michael focused on the others lining the hallway. All of them ghostly white, all completely still, all staring at the new arrivals. Like the man, many of the people were frozen in odd positions. As if they’d been turned to stone in the middle of an activity.
“Hello?” Bryson called. His voice echoed down the hallway, and just before it faded, each person in front of them moved slightly. Michael’s heart skipped.
“What was that?” Sarah whispered, and a few of the bodies twitched. Then she said even softer, “All I can tell from the code is it seems the Path goes straight ahead. I can’t break through anything or see another way out.”
“What else is new?” Bryson added. “Me neither.”
Very slowly, Michael turned around to face his two friends. Then, so quiet he could barely hear himself speaking, he said, “Okay, but no talking. No sudden movements. Follow me.”
He turned back and took a careful step forward, then another. The heads of the strangers slowly pivoted to watch his movement, their eyes zeroing in on him specifically. Michael held his gaze on them, terrified of what they might do. With each person he passed, a choking fear grew in his chest that was making it harder and harder to breathe.
He pressed on, forcing himself to take each step as slowly as possible. He could sense Bryson and Sarah behind him, but he didn’t dare turn to look at them again. They passed an old man with a large nose and fire in his eyes. Another man with an enormous birthmark covering half his face, like a bruise on his pale skin. A lady with her mouth wide open, teeth white and gums purple. A toddler, a slight smile frozen on his face.
Michael felt an itch growing in his nose and was unable to hold it back. He sneezed, and the bodies around him twitched again, their arms and hands rising almost an inch. His heart skipped and he stopped, waiting to make sure nothing was going to happen. All was still. Relieved, he pushed forward again, step by agonizingly slow step.
They’d passed about ten more people when Michael tripped over an uneven break in the floor. He fell to the ground, landing on his shoulder. But before he even hit the hard floor of the hallway, he heard movement from all the people around him.
5
Michael rolled onto his back and shot his arms up protectively around his face, but then froze. The scene above was like a horror-movie poster. Several sets of hands reaching toward him, framing angry faces. But they’d frozen as soon as he had. Bone-white fingers with sharp nails hovered over him. And eyes, bright with hunger, stared down. But no one moved.
Sure that they’d soon hear his banging heart, Michael tried to calm himself down. Slowly, he took several long, deep breaths; then he readied himself and started inching backward, using his legs and arms to do it in tiny motions. Sweat broke out all over his body, soaking his clothes and dripping down the sides of his face. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the many locked on him. One mistake and they’d attack—he knew it—and then it’d all be over. Fighting would only cause more movement.
Happy thoughts, he mused as he slowly scooted away from them.
Finally, Michael got out from under the frozen canopy of arms. The creepiest part for him was that even though their bodies—below the neck—remained still, their eyes continued to follow his movements. Chills washed through him.
Ever so slowly, he turned over, then rose to his feet. He looked back at Bryson and Sarah, who were on the far side of the pack Michael had just escaped. Luckily a space had opened up along the wall where some of the people had been standing. His two friends slipped into it to wind around the group, and once again they were all together. Bryson was unusually distraught, his face tense, his eyes wild. Michael wanted to ask him if he was okay, but knew they couldn’t afford to make any noise, so he silently pressed on.
They headed down the hallway. Slowly. Ever so slowly.
6
Being quiet was hard, and the three inched along slower than Michael had ever moved. The pace drove him a little mad, though he was happy as long as the strangers stayed put.
Gradually the people they passed soon melded into one mass for him. He no longer distinguished between man and woman, adult and child, fat and thin. It was all just a kaleidoscope of pale skin and staring eyes. He tried not to look at them at all, focusing on the distant point at the far end of the hallway instead.
And after what seemed like an eternity, an end came into sight. Far ahead, Michael could see another door.
7
Once he saw the door, the urge to break into a run was almost too much to fight. But Michael held it back. He continued, moving toward that door with deliberate care.
As they walked, eyes followed Michael and the others. Michael was concentrating on staying slow when a strange sound began behind him, like someone whimpering, and his heart sank when he realized it was Bryson. Michael saw the strangers on either side of him twitch.
“I keep thinking about Kaine and the impossible code of this place,” Bryson whispered far too loudly. The people lining the walls twitched again. “And it just hit me. What if Kaine isn’t really a gamer? What if … Hey! The code is weaker up there!”
The last few words came out not in a whisper but an echoing yell. And as Bryson’s voice permeated the silence, Michael’s mind spun into a swirl of panic. Bryson was suddenly pushing him to the side, running past him in a full sprint toward the door. Michael crashed into a cold body, and the thing sprang to life. But instead of turning on Michael, the creature took off after Bryson. All of them did. Every single figure was chasing Bryson, and Michael sank to his knees, stunned with horror, watching the vicious horde storm after his friend.