Helen checked the plasters on her neck, replacing one that had soaked through whilst she'd been attending to Will's head. It was amazing how much damage you could incur without leaving home.
"What I can't work out," began Henry, hanging around the edge of the medical room whilst the other two continued to patch up. He juggled a few objects he had found on a nearby desk, ignoring a stern warning from Helen that if he broke anything his neck would be next. "Is why we can see it all of a sudden."
About an hour ago, the sand creature, recovered from its 'electro-shock therapy' as Henry liked to call it, had taken on a maroon disposition. Instead of mimicking the surrounds of the cell, it seemed content to sit directly in front of the camera in full view as if it knew what the curious device outside its cell was for.
"It's so creepy," continued Henry. "I preferred it when it was invisible."
"I don't," said Will. "At least we know where it is and what it's up to."
"You're only sour because you shot yourself back in that cave."
"It wasn't a cave," Will raised his finger threateningly, "it was a tomb – ow, that hurts."
Helen held his ankle firmly as she poured liberal amounts of antiseptic over the teeth marks. She'd given him three shots as well, in case the sand creature was carrying anything nasty. Will was most worried about rabies, especially as Henry delighted in reminding him of all the adverse side effects.
"Do we know what it's saying yet?" Will changed the subject.
"Got progress on that actually. I've had the digital recorder going the whole time," he caught all of the objects he'd been playing with and returned them safely to her desk. "Live feed-" Henry tapped the keyboard in front of the monitor and then leant forward, adjusting the sound system.
A hoarse whisper filled the room. The baritone voice rolled in and out of the speakers, slightly out of sync with the creature's lips. It was a continuous drone, sometimes hissing beyond their hearing.
The grin on Henry's face was irritatingly bold.
"What?" Will slipped on his glasses, finally free of Helen's sadistic repair work.
His grin broadened into 'allknowingness'. "Ancient Egyptian..." he threw a small book at Helen, who caught it without looking. "Very old dialect. Want to know how I know?"
"Let me guess," Will and Helen exchanged a grin, "you're brilliant?"
"Yep – and more. I can speak it."
Helen sighed wearily. "No you can't," she corrected him. "You can say two words and they're the same two words I know, namely because you were in the room at the same time I was interviewing the college student with cognitive powers. Shocked you remembered them actually. Then again, she was a-"
"Beautiful lady?" Will finished Helen's sentence.
"Precisely."
"Hey..." Henry was somewhat offended by the implication. "I learn lots of things living in this place."
"In any case," Helen switched the sound off but left it recording. "Two words isn't going to be enough to maintain a useful conversation with it – especially considering the words... We need someone with more experience. It's going to be tricky though, considering the level of clearance they're going to need..." Introducing a sand monster to a professor wasn't top of her list of things to do this week. When she failed to return the last one, the university had not been very pleased with her.
"We could send the recording to one of the universities – have them translate it for us?" suggested Will.
"Good plan, until the creature says something classified," Henry rolled his eyes.
Helen stared at Will for several minutes. He was resting his sore forehead on his knuckles, face scrunched up in thought. "What are you thinking?" asked Helen, slipping off her white lab coat. She threw it in Henry's direction. He caught it and folded it neatly, laying it over her chair.
"Uh..." Will started, but wasn't sure if he wanted to share yet. "It probably won't work though."
Henry slid off the desk and pointed to the door with both hands. "Can we move this conversation while he sorts through mindfiles?"
Helen nodded. They all headed out the door and down the corridor, en-route to Helen's main office where comfy lounge chairs and warm fires waited.
Will kept one hand on the wall as they walked, not noticing as it trailed over mirrors and doors. "I know someone who might be able to help us and, as a bonus, he seems to be aware of some of the craziness going on."
Helen narrowed her eyes, pulling Will away from the wall in time for him to avoid her good urn. "Please tell me that they're cultured and charming..."
"More like sceptical and good looking..."
She sighed. "Close enough – urg, what was that?" It sounded like something scampering away into one of the hallway rooms as they passed. "The rats get bigger and bigger every time we leave the house in your fine care."
"So I don't like using mousetraps," Henry retaliated as they continued. "Poor little things, all crumpled and fury. I can't stand to see them like that."
"Use one of the residents. There are several that come to mind who might be interested in a walk."
"That is just disgusting," muttered Henry, as the group disappeared around the corner.
Everything settled as the footsteps trailed off with the arguing voices. There was no sign of any rats – nothing hunting along the skirting boards or gnawing cosy homes into the wiring. A few withered petals tumbled to the ground from a crystal vase left unnoticed. One of the electric lights flickered, threatening to resign.
Tucked in one of the darkened rooms with only the bluish glow of moonlight for company, Ashley exhaled, collapsing onto the cold brickwork. Her mother, Will and Henry had heard her rushed escape but been too caught up in their own problems to investigate. Lucky for her as the only plausible hiding spot was under the desk – far beneath her dignity.
Her cheeks were dry but her eyes stung from crying. There was a subtle shake accompanying every action she performed which sometimes rolled over her, usually when she breathed.
Composing herself, she snuck a look at the hallway to confirm its empty status. Satisfied, she returned to the curious crack in the main hallway. Ashley ran her nails along it, following it until it ended abruptly behind one of the enormous, gold-edged portraits. She eyed the ancient duke up and down before embracing his frame, heaving him off the wire behind.
The portrait was taller than she was and heavy. Grunting, she struggled to keep it aloft for the few seconds it took to unhook it and lower to the ground. Ashley took a breath, then shifted it out of the way.
There it was. A door cut into the hallway wall. Its construction had splintered the plaster resulting in the telling crack. She'd walked past it a thousand times as a child, never questioning its presence. From now on she would question everything.
It wasn't difficult to open. Finding it was clearly part of its security and being located in the Magnus household was another. Ashley pushed it inward. The motion carried her over its threshold until she threw her weight backwards – grabbing hold of the entrance way before she fell into the black emptiness inside the doorway.
"Woah... That's a hazard," she whispered, heart racing. The secret door appeared to open into one of the elevator shafts. Peering in, she could just make out the elevator amongst the steel scaffolding. Underneath her was the a three story drop to the basement floor and opposite, a small metal platform a good few meters away over the gap.
There was just enough room on her side to pull the secret door shut and balance on the plank of wood someone had cleverly built onto the wall. Getting back over the gap would be a bitch, but at the moment all Ashley was interested was finding out what the hell was going on in her house.
She braced herself and then leapt over the elevator gap. There was a moment in the air when she didn't think that she would clear the gap. Before she could panic, she hit the steel platform, landing rather gracefully on her feet.
*~*~*
There was sand everywhere; through his fur, under his skin and embedded in the delicate tissue at the back of his throat.
Bigfoot lifted his head free of the mound that had all but buried his body. It poured off of him, scattering in the light breeze. He coughed and rasped as he climbed out of the sand. Bigfoot rolled over onto his back and smiled.
The stars were out. It was a clear night in the desert and, most importantly, he had lived through the hellish storm which had raged for most of the night.