The Gates (Samuel Johnson vs. the Devil #1)(32)

“I’m scared,” said Samuel. “I’m really scared.”

And they both believed him when he said it.

“Well,” said Tom. “There’s only one thing for it.”

“What’s that?” asked Maria, but she already knew the answer.

Tom grinned.

“We’ll just have to take a look at the Abernathys’ house.”

? ? ?

Meanwhile, at CERN, the technician who had been monitoring the “Ask an Expert” section of the website approached Professor Hilbert holding a printed message at the bottom of which was a drawing of a blue spiral.

“Professor,” he said, nervously, “this may be nothing, but . . .”





XVI

In Which We Visit the Abernathy House, and Decide That We Wouldn’t Want to Live There

IT WAS DETERMINED THAT they should leave the visit to the Abernathys’ house until the light had begun to fade, so Samuel and Maria spent the early part of the afternoon helping Tom to practice his batting. When it began to grow dark, they paid a brief visit to Samuel’s house to check his e-mail, but there was no reply to his message from CERN.

“Maybe they’re very busy,” said Tom, “what with their big collider thing being broken.”

“It’s not broken,” said Samuel. “Well, not exactly. They’ve shut it down while they investigate the energy leak.”

“The one that you say has turned up in the Abernathys’ basement,” said Tom. “That’s a long way from Switzerland. They’re not Swiss, are they?”

“No, I don’t think so. Mr. Abernathy didn’t sound Swiss when I spoke to him. Mrs. Abernathy just smells funny.” Then again, Samuel had never, to his knowledge, spoken to a Swiss person. He just suspected that Swiss people didn’t sound like Mr. Abernathy, who spoke with a gruff northern accent, or Mrs. Abernathy, who seemed quite posh.

Maria looked out of Samuel’s bedroom window. “It’s getting dark now,” she said. “Are you sure we should be doing this? It doesn’t seem right, creeping around somebody’s garden in the dark. I mean, what is it that you hope we’ll see?”

Samuel shrugged. “Just . . . something. Something that will make you believe me.”

“And if we do believe you?” asked Maria. “What then?”

“Well, you’ll know I’m not mad,” said Samuel. “Or a liar.”

Maria smiled fondly. “I know you’d never lie to us, Samuel,” she said.

“Although you might still be mad,” added Tom, but he too was smiling. “Well, come on, then. I have to get home for tea or I’ll catch hell from my mum.” He realized what he had just said. “Catch hell? Get it? See, I’m funny even when I’m not trying to be.”

Maria and Samuel rolled their eyes.

“Oh, please yourselves,” said Tom. “Some people have no sense of humor . . .”

? ? ?

The Abernathys’ house appeared to be empty when they reached it, Boswell somewhat reluctantly in tow.

“Doesn’t seem like there’s anybody home,” said Tom.

“It looks creepy,” said Maria. “I know it’s just a normal house, but maybe it’s because of what you’ve told us about the people who live there . . .”

“No,” said Tom, his tone subdued. “You’re right. I can sense it. The hairs on the back of my neck are standing up. There’s something wrong here.”

“Boswell senses it too,” said Samuel, and, indeed, Boswell was whimpering. The dog planted his small bottom firmly on the ground outside the garden gate, as if to say, “Right, this is as far as I go. If you want me to go any farther, you’ll have to drag me.”

Samuel tied Boswell’s leash to the garden gate. “We’d best leave him here,” he said.

“Can I stay with him?” asked Tom, only half joking.

“Come on, silly,” said Maria, taking Tom by the arm and pulling him into the garden, Samuel close behind them.

“Weren’t you scared just a minute ago?” whispered Tom.

“I’m still scared,” said Maria, “but this is interesting.”

The expression on Maria’s face had changed. She looked excited. Mr. Hume had once said that she had the perfect brain for a scientist. She was both curious and careful, and once she got the scent of something that intrigued her, she would pursue it right to the end.

Samuel led them to the basement window. A bare bulb glowed orange in the ceiling, casting a dim light on the room. They crouched down and peered inside, but apart from the usual junk that accumulated in people’s basements, there was nothing out of the ordinary to be seen.

“That’s where it happened,” said Samuel. “The blue circle, the big clawed hand, all of it.”

“Well, it’s quiet now,” said Tom. “Mind you, it smells disgusting here.”

He was right. A stink of rotten eggs hung around the basement and the area of the garden nearest it. A concentrated breeze was blowing, carrying the stink on it, as though a hole had been bored in a wall behind which a great wind was blowing.

“Do you feel that?” said Maria. She raised her hand so that it was very close to the glass. The two boys did likewise.