Un2talented (Book 3 of the Un2 Series)

The duo reached the fork in the hallway quickly since Gary had traveled it before and was confident that there would be no surprises between the boathouse and the subway-like tiled passageway.

“Leslie and I went right at the fork,” Gary said as he angled his phone to illuminate the right-hand corridor.

“Any idea where the left one leads?” Dorian asked.

“Nope, but I know exactly where the right one does.”

“Maybe we should walk a little way down the left, just to know where it goes. We may need another way out,” Dorian suggested.

“You’re probably right. Let’s walk down it a few hundred feet to see if there are any clues as to where it may lead. Then we will double back and head for the elevator.”

Gary stepped up to take the lead, pausing Dorian for just a second as he sniffed the air.

“Nothing but tunnel,” he said. “We should be safe.”

The left-side hallway was clad in the same tile as the right, but the surfaces were not as clean suggesting that this passageway was less traveled. The farther they went, the dirtier the floor became. Eventually, the dust became a layer of dirt that covered the walkway. The two were relieved to see that there weren’t any footprints or other signs of recent use visible in the soil. Dorian traced his phone light along the floor and into the distance. Another hundred feet ahead the ceiling was partially blocked by a large mass that encroached on the right-hand side. Its surface was covered with moss and fungi that glistened with drops of moisture. The hallway ended just beyond the growth.

“Looks like this is the end of the line,” Dorian remarked.

“Seems kind of odd that the hallway leads to this clump, don’t you think?” Gary replied.

The pair walked to the muddy stalactite.

Gary sniffed at the mushrooms. “Nope, not edible.”

Dorian circled the rock formation.

“And it’s not the end of the line!”

He swung his beam to illuminate a set of steel rungs that impaled the wall behind the hanging chunk of rock. The ladder continued up a rough-hewn shaft capped at the top by a door that sliced diagonally across the chute. A pencil-thin ray of light leaked through a fissure along the side of the door, keeping the earthen silo from being filled with darkness.

“I’m going up to see where this leads,” Dorian said.

“Dude, I’m sure this goes without saying, but be careful!” Gary urged.

“Careful is my middle name.” Dorian pocketed his phone and began his ascent. He reached the hatch in short order and tried to peer through the crack. His view was filtered by strands of green.

“I think I see some grass. Maybe this goes up into the yard,” Dorian called down the shaft.

“That doesn’t seem right. It’s nighttime. Where’s the light coming from?” Gary replied.

“I’m going to pop the door a bit.”

Dorian put his hand alongside the crack and pushed, lightly at first and then with increasing pressure, until the door began to pivot. His view widened to show the part of a pond and the polished marble floor that ran along the water’s edge. Beyond that were the walnut doors that lead to the kitchen. He turned to tell Gary.

“We’re under the aviary!” Dorian called down again.

“We’re under the aviary!” repeated in his voice, directly in front of him.

Dorian jerked back, alarmed. His footing slipped slightly, but he caught himself without incident. The crimson lyre bird stood before him, its head cocked slightly to the side. It toddled forward.

“Hey there, fella,” Dorian said to the fowl.

“Hey there, fella,” it mimicked and then jumped through the opening toward him.

“Hey, don’t. . . “Dorian wanted to keep the bird from entering the shaft but didn’t know how to stop it.

“Hey, don’t,” echoed back. The lyrebird free-fell the first dozen feet then spread its wings to slow its descent. A flap of its wings allowed it to swoop upward and then drop gently as it reached the floor.

Dorian reached the bottom rungs a moment later and dropped to the ground. He reached for the bird, but it scurried away from him.

“What are you doing?” Gary asked.

“Trying to catch him. If he gets out it might cause trouble.”

Gary bent to try and grab the bird as it ran past. It sprang into the air and glided toward the other end of the tunnel.

“Stop!” Dorian called in vain as he sprinted after him. Gary followed suit. By the time the duo reached the fork in the tunnels, the bird was nowhere to be seen.

“Where could he be? He’s got to be close,” Dorian panted.

“Let’s check down that way,” Gary pointed down the other tunnel.

The two jogged well into the tunnel. The elevator doors were just ahead of them and there was no sign of the lyrebird.

“He’s gone!” Dorian sighed.

“We can’t worry about that now. We need to find Leslie, “Gary insisted.

“Hopefully that bird won’t complicate things,” Dorian added.

The pair approached the elevator.

“This will take us to the grotto. We don’t know if anyone will be waiting for us down there,” Gary reminded Dorian. He tapped the password into the keypad. The doors opened and the two entered the car. He took Dorian by the shoulders and positioned him at the back of the car.

“I will stand in front of you. If someone is there when the doors open, I am going to throw myself into them. If that should happen you are going to hit the “up” button and pray the elevator responds quickly. Got it?” Gary instructed.

“But. . .” Dorian tried to object.

“No ‘buts’. That is what you will do.”

Gary punched the “down” button and the doors closed. They felt a moment of weightlessness as the elevator dropped. Gary readied himself in front of Dorian and faced the door.