Chapter 2:
Nov.4/01

He preferred to call it ?focused?, but most people would say it was obsession. It was the way he did most things; he tended to be an all or nothing kind of guy. It was like when he was on a job, it was all he could think about, it consumed his every waking moment. The strange building with it?s strange history was a puzzle unsolved, he hated that. It was also dangerous, now that was more his style.
He spent better than a week ?casing the joint?. He walked large circles around it, moving towards it from every possible angle. He spent nights on rooftops, watching the building and surrounding area like an owl. He didn?t ask further questions of the locals, he knew that would trigger an alarm, but he listened carefully. He had been incredibly lucky to bump into Juan, to someone who would talk about the building without ratting him out. One look at the other locals and he knew that their mouths and hearts were closed, that they?d turn him in without a second thought. They were that afraid. But he didn?t need any more information than he already had. He was good at watching, he was good at listening, he quickly learned a great deal.

He learned, for instance, that there were indeed two abandoned buildings that were home to armed guards, 24-7. Juan had been correct about that, it leant credence to everything else he had said. They changed the three guards at 3 am in one building; he presumed the other was similar. He saw their automatic rifles, helmets, night vision equipment, everything pointing to professional mercenaries or elite armed forces. They never came out or walked patrols, they stayed inside, thinking themselves to be hidden. They had nothing to do but watch, and he was sure they were very good at their job. He didn?t try to follow them when they left each night in the dark blue van, he knew that they would be expecting someone to do just that. The guards were not the problem, only an obstacle.

He carefully noticed things he wasn?t seeing. While cars and vans with darkened windows would shuttle people in and out during daylight hours, at night the place was locked down tight. Yet there was more activity inside after dark than during the day. He could see lights going on and off, people moving about. The windows were either opaque or had heavy curtains, but by finding just the right vantage point, he could catch a glimpse of what went on inside. They were nocturnal in there, he was sure of it. There was no place that he could find which offered him a view of the balcony on the north side of the lab. He could catch a glimpse of it from one rooftop, but couldn?t see anything. He knew better than to try looking over the crest of the hill, that too would be just what they were expecting. The only thing he could tell for sure was that none of the trees in the grove to the north were close enough to allow access to the balcony.
He also didn?t see delivery vehicles of any kind. No food brought in, no supplies or equipment. Yet an operation that size must use up a lot of stuff, how were they getting it in there? They couldn?t store that many supplies, could they? They never brought out any trash either, although at night he sometimes saw smoke rising from a hidden chimney. But they couldn?t burn everything; the trash had to be going somewhere. Juan appeared to be right about the tunnel too.
The entrance to this tunnel did not appear to be on the Pantanta side of the hill. There was little or no traffic at night, and to move that much stuff, even through a tunnel, during the day would surely be noticed by someone. Besides, these were sneaky people, they would no doubt use the cover of darkness whenever they could. He understood sneaky. To the west of the building was a narrow, but deep, valley which flattened out after it curved past the northern side of the property. Not likely that they could slip a tunnel under that unstable terrain. The neighbourhood to the west, across the valley and over the crest of another hill, was a nicer one. But not many buildings could be put up near the crest of the hill there, or on it?s steep eastern slope which faced the laboratory. One of the few buildings from which one could see the land the laboratory was on (one simply could not see the building itself from that side, or from the north, the dense grove of trees prevented that) was a small, dilapidated warehouse. This was where he first saw the guards. The other lookout position was in a boarded up apartment block to the south and east of the lab, with an unimpeded view of the only road which lead there. They pretty much had the place surrounded. The entrance to the tunnel must be in the south, on the other side of the hill.

He spent some time walking around that area too. There was more traffic here, both day and night. There were many small businesses, the apartments and houses were all occupied and in decent shape. Once again the steepness of the hill prevented it?s development in the area nearest the lab. There were several businesses which had trucks and vans coming and going during the day, but at night all the businesses closed up. He had no clue as to where the tunnel mouth might be. In a building housing an active business? But none were busy at night. In an apartment or house? But they all seemed to be occupied by seemingly normal people. None of the apartments or houses had an undue amount of cars or trucks coming and going either. It could be anywhere: in a sewer, or further away from the hill. It might not even on the south side at all, he just didn?t know.

The only area that wasn?t directly covered by the guards was to the north-east, so that?s where he started searching for a way in. If he could find a way in above ground, he wouldn?t need to find the tunnel, which was proving to be well hidden. Besides, the idea of walking along a confined corridor without getting caught seemed unappealing. Even if he found the tunnel, how could he use it? One guard, or one camera and he?d surely be detected. He slowly worked his way closer to the lab, often disguising himself to avoid being noticed. Pretending he was a drunken local worked well, he could lay for hours in piles of trash, or stagger about into dead-end lanes and other unusual places without arousing suspicion. It was beginning to feel more and more like he was on a job, only this time he was hunting a building, not a person. He searched for hidden cameras, but knew it would be nearly impossible to find them. They were there, he was sure of it, but exactly where was what he needed to find out. But cameras these days could be tiny, and these people seemed to have no end of money to spend on security. They probably had the smallest cameras money could buy, and could place them almost anywhere they wanted to. He had to proceed with extreme caution if he didn?t want to get caught. And getting caught, he knew, would probably be a death sentence.

He awoke with a blistering headache. He wondered how could his skull contain so much pain. His bedroom was dark, but his clock said it was already past 9am. He put on his bathrobe, opened the bedroom door and shuffled from his bedroom over to the front door of his apartment. He opened the door, picked up his newspaper and shut the door again. He didn?t notice that his door was the only one in the hallway, that Mr Santos? door had disappeared.
He looked at the newspaper, but it was blurry, he couldn?t make out what the headline read. There was a black & white picture on the front page, but it was fuzzy too. It looked like a white blur falling from a tall building, but where or what it was he couldn?t tell. He rubbed his eyes with one hand but the writing and picture were still blurred. The printing seemed familiar, but he couldn?t make heads or tails of what it said. It was then that it registered in his mind that something was wrong, something was missing. He stood very still, looking and listening, until he figured it out. The air conditioner was not on, even though it was quite warm in the apartment. He looked above the window where the air conditioner was installed, but it wasn?t there. There wasn?t even a hole where it had been. Above the window was just wall and ceiling, no AC.

?Oh God? he said ?I must be dreaming.?

Then he noticed that the shade on his window was not white Venetians, but a black roller-blind which covered it completely. He cast aside the unreadable newspaper and walked over to the window, intending to open the blind and look outside. A strange light moved at an odd angle on the other side of the window. He was very frightened by this, and decided against seeing what would make such a light. But there must be a way out he reasoned; there must be something inside the dream that will allow him to escape. Bad dreams were not new to him, each one was unique, with it?s own hidden messages; it?s own set of dangers.
He looked around to see what else was different. Everything was changed. His table was oval, not rectangular like it should be. The couch, the chairs, the bookcases, all wrong. He looked at the front door again and saw that it now had no doorknob, no way to open it. That was not a good sign. He looked at his table again and it was now round, with different chairs than had been there a second ago. The bedroom door was now gone too, just a blank, white wall without any pictures, doors or windows. With so many things messed up in this dream, he figured that something which was the way it should be would offer him a clue as to what this was all about. He walked into his kitchen. The counter top was the wrong colour, the toaster was different, the drawers and cupboard doors had no handles on them. He tried to open one but it refused to budge. The stove and fridge were different too, old fashioned, not modern. The stove was an old push-button kind, only there were no buttons on it for him to push. The oven door?s glass was blackened, there was no handle on it either. The fridge was a one-door model, with a rounded top. But this one door did have a handle, so he reached over and opened it.

Inside was a cave, it?s walls and floor coated with ice, icicles hanging from it?s ceiling. A cold wind drifted into the kitchen, turning to fog at his feet as it mixed with the warm air. In the distance was a flickering glow, and it looked like there was a tunnel leading off to the right. But that didn?t bother him, as unexpected as it was to find a cavern in one?s refrigerator. What did cause his heart to constrict, that made him gasp involuntarily, was the little girl.
She was sitting on some rock just to the left of the doorway. A slight, pale girl about 7 or 8 years old with long, straight blonde hair. She wore a drab green shirt and pants, they reminded him of hospital clothes, her feet were bare. She stared right at him and said:
?What are you waiting for? It?s right there in front of you!?
?What is? What?s ?right there?? Who are you and what are you doing inside my refrigerator?? It seemed like a rational question.
?I know who you are, my friend told me all about you. I?d like to help you more but? there are rules.?
?Rules? What rules?? He was finding it difficult to concentrate, fear was rapidly mounting inside him, causing him to panic. ?What??
But his words were cut off by a distant scream, or was it a roar? The girl snapped he head and looked behind her.
?Oh no! It?s coming! Close the door, hurry!? He was paralysed with fear, he couldn?t move. She reached over and grabbed the inside of the fridge door and pulled it shut. Just before it closed, he thought he saw a shadow cross the far wall of the cave.

He sat bolt upright in his bed, his face and body covered with sweat, gasping for breath. It was a long time before his heart stopped racing.
?I?m going to need some help on this one.? he said aloud, although there was no one there to hear him.