Michelle asked, “So what happened?”
“Like lots of rich people who inherit money, he blew it. Most of the mansions around here, Brandonfield, Tuckergate, have fallen into ruins.”
Michelle added, “Or been turned into secret labs where people die.”
A chilly wind blew across the front lawn that was rapidly being consumed by the surrounding forest.
“I bet it was beautiful when it was new,” Michelle said as she wrapped her arms around her shoulders and stared up at the manse. Unlike many of the abandoned manors around here, Farleygate’s walls
were still standing though the large wooden front double doors had rotted away, most of the windows were broken out and the slate roof was full of holes. “Probably a nice place to grow up,” she said a bit wistfully.
He looked at her in surprise. “You’ve never even owned a home. I didn’t think you were into possessions.”
“I’ve never been married either. It doesn’t mean I can’t look,” she shot back.
Noise filtered out from the mansion.
“That sounds like voices,” Michelle said. She pulled her gun and headed to the house with Sean right behind. Inside, Michelle slid a flashlight out of her backpack and shone it around.
The corridor they were on was long, the floors rotted, the walls coming down in chunks. The air was dank with mold and Sean began to cough. The noises they heard started up again, like hurried whispers. Then a tiny scream seemed to come from right next to them. They both jumped and Michelle swung both her light and pistol in that direction. A blank wall looked back at them and yet they still heard what sounded like buzzing.
She looked at Sean searchingly. “Hornet’s nest?” she said. He looked puzzled and then stepped toward the wall and tapped on it. All noise instantly ceased.
He looked at her and shook his head. “Human nest.” His fingers probed around the wall until they found what they were looking for: a small loop of metal. Sean pulled on it and the section of wall opened up.
Something hit him around the legs, and something else around the chest. He fell backward, landing on his butt. Running feet echoed down the hall.
As Sean got up he heard other sounds: screams and laughter.
He looked over his shoulder. The screams were coming from a little boy, about eight years old, that Michelle had a tight hold of. The laughter was coming from Michelle and it was clearly directed at Sean.
After Sean had dusted himself off, Michelle said in a fake stern voice to the boy, “Okay, name, rank and serial number, mister.”
He was looking fearfully at her and Michelle noticed she still had her gun out. “Whoops, sorry.” She holstered her pistol and said, “Come on, talk. What were you doing here?”
Sean said, “You can get hurt in a place like this, son.”
“We come here a lot,” the boy said defiantly. “We never get hurt.”
Sean peered inside the hidden space. “A secret room. How’d you find it?”
“My brother, Teddy. He used to come here when he was my age with his gang. Now it’s my place. All these old places have secret rooms.”
Sean stiffened and looked at Michelle. He pulled out his wallet and handed the boy a ten-dollar bill. “Thanks, son.”
After the little boy ran off, they walked outside and sat on an old stone bench.
“So we search Babbage Town for a secret room?” Michelle asked.
“Yep.”
“Can I ask why?”
“It’ll give us something to do. And if there is a spy at Babbage Town…?” His voice trailed off.
“You really think a spy will be using a secret room? What, he sneaks out at night on his traitorous rounds? Give me a freaking break.”
“What do you know about Camp Peary?”