1005T

There was no way to know what that numbermeant, or how to read it. This particular chunk of metal could havebeen manufactured almost anywhere in the world. It could have beendesigned for anything and then salvaged and used here as a way tokeep students from trespassing. But here it was, looking him in theface, the answer to the riddle of the box.

The tunnels. The map that made up the lasttwo sides of the box could only be of the steam tunnels beneath thecampus.

He looked back up at the building in frontof him. Finding this number should have excited him, but insteadthe discovery disturbed him. The number on the plate was soabsolute, so distinctive, that there was no denying that it wasexactly where the box was leading him. Where else would he find1005T? But the clues leading up to it were so subtle. Sure thefirst four words spelled out song titles, even titles all belongingto a single band, a very popular band, no less, but it seemed likesuch a leap of faith to jump from related song titles to the campusmusic building. Why did it not occur to him instead to check themusic store at the mall, or to look the Beatles up on the Internet?Or why not find those three songs and listen to them, or look upthe lyrics to see if they had anything in common? He was verytalented at solving puzzles and riddles, so why was his onlythought the campus music building?

The initials, he thought. G. N.J. Every building on campus was named after someone. The CrawBuilding was named after William Craw. Wuhr was named after DanielWuhr. His dormitory was named after Walter Lumey. Initials led to aname, a name led to a building, a building having something incommon with music…

No. It was too much of a leap, too doubtful.If the location of this metal cover was actually meant to be found,whoever encrypted it had placed an enormous amount of faith in hisability to make such a connection. After all, when he thought ofthe music building he didn’t think of songs so much asinstruments. He thought of marching bands, not rockbands.

And presuming he did actually makethe connection, it took an even greater leap of faith to expect himto spot the number twelve from the back door of the building,especially when he was looking for a Z.

Maybe that was precisely the point. Maybewhoever sent the box intended for the puzzle to be too difficult tosolve.

Albert frowned at this idea. That made evenless sense. Why send the box at all then? No, that wasn’t logicalin the least. He looked up at the clock face. Perhaps whoevercarved the number into the box did not think about his two beingmistaken for a Z. Would the number twelve have been such a hardthing to find if he’d known what he was looking for? Somehow hedoubted it. Twelve was a relatively common number. It probablyappeared dozens of times in and around the building. Roomtwelve was one example.

Most unlikely of all, he realized, was theunderstanding that one needed to actually stand in front of thepost with the number on it and recognize the seven o’clock digit asan arrow pointing away from the center of the clock face toward aninconspicuous metal plate set into the sidewalk several yards fromthe nearest corner of the building. Shouldn’t his first thoughthave been to try and find a way into the clock tower to look forthe final clue? Or to make some sort of numerical or symbolicconnection with the number seven or the seven o’clock hour?

He remembered the strange double-take he’ddone to recognize the panic button, as if something had whisperedinto his very brain. He tried to remember exactly what it was thatmade him look again, but he couldn’t quite recall.

This wasn’t how he usually thought his waythrough a puzzle. The solutions came in logical steps, not gutfeelings. He followed a path, unlocked the clues…

He forced the idea out of his head andstuffed the box back into his backpack. That was stupid. He’d justgotten lucky, that was all. He’d found the solution quickly insteadof turning up a hundred dead ends before locating the tunnelentrance. But all the way back to Lumey, he kept glancing back overhis shoulder, half expecting someone to be watching him.

Chapter 4

The creepiness that Albert felt that eveningbehind Juggers Hall was gone before he fell asleep that night andby the next morning he couldn’t wait to see what was in thosetunnels.

He spent the morning planning, trying todecide the best way to proceed. He needed some supplies.Flashlights for sure, with plenty of extra batteries, and itwouldn’t hurt to have a plan to keep from getting lost.

It was maddening. He grew more and moreeager to see what mysteries waited beneath the sidewalks. If themap on the box was true, then it was certainly more than just asimple steam tunnel stretching out from the power plant. It wouldhave to be connected directly to the city sewer system, and eventhen the tunnels would have to be much more complicated than a citythis size would really require. The map itself was simply a set oflines depicting only the path he would be taking, but along the waythere were dozens of short lines branching off the main path,suggesting intersections that could lead anywhere. It seemed likeso much for a city where the college made up a fair percentage ofthe population. He wondered if there was something hidden downthere, something fantastic.

He drove to the local Wal-Mart and purchasedhis supplies, preparing himself for what he was sure would be afantastic adventure. And later, before lecture, he told Brandy ofhis discoveries, only to be brought back to earth with a resoundingcrash.

“The sewers?”

“Well, not sewers,” Albert replied,already sure of what she was thinking. “They’re some sort oftunnels. They’re probably connected to the sewers somewhere, but Ithink they’re mostly service tunnels running from the power plant.Steam tunnels, probably.”

“That’s crazy.”

“Maybe. But who knows.”

Brandy did not reply. She was searching thecontents of her purse for some lip-gloss.

“You in?”

She turned and looked at him as though he’dlost his mind. “What do you mean am I ‘in’?”

“I mean I’d like to go down there and lookaround. I want to see where the map takes us.”

She gave him a look that was all she neededto say, her eyes narrowed, her nose wrinkled, a genuine “are younuts” expression if ever he’d seen one. “No way.”

Albert looked down at his notebook. She’dsucceeded in making him feel perfectly silly.

“I don’t care if there’s a million dollarsin gold and jewels down there, I wouldn’t wade through sewage foranything.” She went back to looking for her lip-gloss. “Besides,what makes you sure there’s anything down there anyway?”

“Maybe there’s not. Maybe there is. Weirdershit’s happened.”

“Touché.”

“I bought some supplies. I think it’s wortha look.”

“You’re crazy. Somebody gave us that box toget us to go down there. I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’tcare much for the thought of being underground in the dark, maybetoo far down for anyone to hear me screaming, and knowing thatsomebody I don’t know knows I’m down there.”

Albert nodded. He couldn’t really argue thatlogic.

“This isn’t the world’s safest campus, youknow. Remember a couple of years ago when two studentsdisappeared?”

“I hadn’t heard about that.”

“One in the winter, one in the spring. Neverfound. Somebody else was murdered a year or two before that, too. Agirl. Raped and strangled. They found her in the bushes near theCube.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah. They all could have received amysterious box, too.”

Albert could think of no reply. She wasright, of course. He remembered that weird paranoia he’d felt afterhe located the tunnel entrance. He wondered again at the odds ofcorrectly solving the clues in such a short amount of time.