Level Zero by Dan McDowell (books that read to you TXT) 📕

I’m not buying it. The information out there in the public eye is next to nil. I’m sure Wilkerson would appreciate a tactful plug from a few other of our more colorful characters around here. What do you say? I’ll go grab a few more for you to interview.”

Penske stood up, tucking his small notepad in his jacket pocket and moving toward the front door. “Nope. Not necessary. We better get going. We’ll see you around. It’ll be in the paper in the next few weeks.”

Mary Beth scratched her head, looking at the men as if they violated her. “Okay, then. See you later. No grand tour for you guys. I was feeling nice today,” she mumbled.

I didn’t know if we’d ever get out of here.

They exited the building.

 

.     .     .     .     .

The detectives walked out of Creepy Nights down the sidewalk.

“Let’s wait a bit, and we’ll go back inside,” Herbert said. “I’d like to see the basement.”

“You would like to see the basement? How about explaining to me why all the sudden we’re reporters for the Statesman working undercover?”

“We’re incognito to minimize suspicions and we don’t want Wilkerson or others to get the idea we’re onto something just yet. Just too many strange feelings I get around here. Wilkerson’s probably down there now.”

“Don’t we need a warrant?”

“We have a lead. What gives? Doesn’t seem like anyone else gives a crap.”

After a few minutes of loitering just out of the building’s line of sight, they slipped back inside and got on the elevator, riding down to the basement.

“Huh, that’s weird,” Herbert said. “They usually mark basement with a B. Not a zero.”

“Yeah. Interesting. Then again, that fits the M.O. of this place, doesn’t it? There isn’t much that makes a lot of sense.”

The basement door opened, and they walked around, exploring each of the rooms.

“Not much going on here,” Herbert said. “None of the lights are very bright, are they?”

“Might be by design.”

“You’re right. It very well could be. Keep your hand close to the trigger finger. I’ve got a strange feeling about this.”

“Me too.”

“This room off to the side… It’s the only door that’s closed,” Herbert said. “Let’s go check it out. See if it’s unlocked…”

Approaching the door, they both drew their guns. Penske motioned to Herbert with his fingers.

One… two… three.

They plowed the door open.

“What’s with all these screens?” Penske asked. “We’ve got us a real creep on our hands, don’t we?” He grabbed the control, rifling through the camera feeds.

“Way to go, rookie,” Herbert said. “Your fingerprints are all over it now. So much for that idea.”

“It’s Wilkerson’s building. Wouldn’t matter if his prints were on it or not, right?”

“No. Look at the people on the screens….”

“Yeah. I’m looking. They don’t look like they’re struggling.”

“Penske, your hands. Look at ‘em. They’re covered in red. Must be on the controls.”

Penske licked his fingertip. “It’s corn syrup.”

“What? What are you saying?”

Penske swiveled around. “There’s another puddle of it on the floor back there. Should we swab it?”

“Na. I wouldn’t bother,” Herbert said. “This weirdo does those wacky commercials, probably just a stupid stunt he pulled for one of those and hasn’t cleaned up.”

“Well, how do we get to the place on the screens?”

“Judging from the cables connected to the back of them, they’re running someplace nearby. We’ve just got to follow the cords…. Why don’t you go back to the cruiser and call for backup? This looks like a much bigger rabbit hole than I would have expected. Get us the paperwork we need to be in here legally and we’ll stage it like it’s our first time in the basement.”

“Go ahead. Send the rookie detective back up top while you get to have all the fun.”

“I’ve seen a lot in my career, but this may be as big a bust as I’ve ever seen. Tread carefully on your way back to the car.”

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

TODD ADAMS observed the corridor outside the elevator as the security light illuminated a path back to Level Zero.

I guess the others found their way out without me. What else is new?

Locating an entry point back into the tunnel, he pulled back on a small, ring-shaped handle mounted to a doorway of granite rock. He pulled the heavy door, squeezing through the small space. It closed behind him on its own, blending in with the wall. He stared at a cascading waterfall and spring just ahead. A small sign stood next to it, SPRING OF LIFE.

I wonder what that means. Sounds a little too good to be true.

Others stood nearby rinsing, cleansing, and in some cases, drinking from the spring, but he did not recognize them.

These people wouldn’t know the difference between sewer water and clean water anyway, would they?

Creeper Joe came around the corner, objecting to Todd’s thoughts as if he vocalized them.

“Ah, Ah, Ah! No, no, Todd! Remember, we don’t permit haughty eyes here…? I thought we were past this.”

He came from the shadows and began dunking Todd in the waterfall pond over and over as he teased.

“What do you think?

What do you think…?

Is it drinkable…?

Are you worthy of it…?

This could be the Fountain of Youth… for all you know, you idiot!

You are nothing, and I can make you less. I really can!”

Joe dunked Todd’s head in the water as he gasped for air. He threw Todd on the ground, kicking him in the stomach, and knocking the wind out of him. Todd coughed the liquid he swallowed all over the floor, its appearance more like a green-tinged mucus than anything else.

Joe raised his voice to a live-theatrical volume and tone, “Get the picture yet? Quit judging these people and love them for who they are. You’re one of them now, anyway!”

He spat in Todd’s face and disappeared. Todd perused the area, hoping for some help or relief from an onlooker.

Of course. They’re all gone. Who wouldn’t run?

He sat alone near the mysterious life-giving source, the Spring of Life, facing the irony of all ironies — being used to