Serena
The secret room was almost the same size as the fake living room. It looked like some kind of study. Two large armchairs and a small sofa in front of a fireplace. On one side, a huge desk and another chair. A door led to a compact bedroom and small en suite bathroom.
I stared around the study. The walls were adorned with pictures of Winsom Wonderland and what looked like original plans for Serenity Falls, artists’ impressions, architectural designs. A striking silver clock, shaped, bizarrely, like a skull, was mounted above the fireplace.
‘So, this is really Harold’s cabin,’ I said.
Milo wandered over to the desk. ‘Makes sense if you think about it. A secret place where he could hide out without anyone knowing.’
He opened a large, leather-bound ledger. On the front was the family crest of the Winsom Corporation. Beneath it, inscribed in gold lettering – the initials H. W.
I walked over to stand beside him. Inside the ledger was a handwritten introduction:
‘Serenity – the state of being calm, peaceful and untroubled.’
Friends, I write this now not knowing if it will be seen by anyone’s eyes but my own.
I hope, in due course, that many people will read it and be imbued with a sense of hope and understanding.
Call it a manifesto, or simply a guide to a new world.
Or the ramblings of an optimistic man who never stopped dreaming.
Milo flicked through some more pages. There were notes about the creation of Serenity Falls, copies of the drawings on the walls, explanations of how the town should be designed. It was kind of interesting.
‘Wait,’ Milo said. ‘Look.’
I looked. For a moment I wasn’t sure what I was looking at. A diagram, like pictures of subway maps. And then I realized.
‘These are the tunnels under the town!’
We’d heard about them, of course. But no one knew if it was just an urban myth. Like this place.
We stared at the map. There were at least a dozen, zigzagging beneath the foundations of Serenity. ‘This is insane,’ I murmured.
‘And see here.’ Milo pointed to one tunnel, outlined in red. ‘I think it starts under this cabin and leads all the way out of Serenity.’
‘Like a secret escape route.’
‘A way for Harold to get in and out unnoticed.’
Milo turned and looked around. ‘It must be under this room. We just need to find it.’
Reality kicked in. I glanced at my watch: 10.07 p.m. Shit.
‘We can’t. We haven’t got time. We need to get moving. Now.’
‘Do we? Think about it, Serena. We could leave this place. For good.’
‘You’re joking, right?’
‘We could escape through the tunnel, tonight. Never come back.’
‘Where would we stay? How would we make money?’
‘We could take this book. Sell it. It must be worth something. And if that doesn’t work out, we’re sixteen. We could get jobs.’
‘Our parents would look for us, Milo.’
‘And? It’s a big world out there. Much bigger than fucking Serenity Falls.’
I remained silent, brain whirring. Escape.
A fresh start. Where no one knew my name.
I could even change it. Become someone else.
And yet … I thought about my mom. How she was such a major pain in the butt, but I knew she loved me.
If I left and she didn’t know what had happened to me, it would rip her heart out.
I shook my head. ‘I can’t. I can’t do that to my mom.’
A darkness flickered across his face. An angry look I recognized. ‘Right. So, you want her to carry on parading you like a trick pony at every party and event in this town.’
‘No, but this isn’t the way, Milo. Let’s go. Please.’
Reluctantly, he nodded. ‘Fine. But we take the ledger.’
‘We can’t. It’s too big to fit in our backpacks.’
‘I’ll carry it then. I want that map.’
I made a snap decision. I ripped out the page of the tunnel maps, folded it up and stuffed it in my pocket. ‘Okay? Now let’s go.’
He gave me a look. ‘You know that ledger could’ve been worth a lot of money.’
‘Yeah, well, it’s not worth anything if you drop it in the lake. Now c’mon.’
Sobriety had kicked in. I could feel panic gnawing at my gut, time bleeding away.
‘Okay.’ Milo nodded.
We scurried out of the secret room. Milo slid the bookcase shut. As we reached the door of the cabin, he caught my arm. I turned. ‘What?’
‘Thank you.’
‘For what?’
‘For … being with me.’
And suddenly he kissed me, harder and fiercer. I pulled away. ‘We don’t have time.’
In the dark, his face was unreadable. ‘I know.’
We flicked on our flashlights, hurried down the steps and back into the forest. I scanned the trees for chalk marks, spotted the first one. We tracked them back through the woods. A couple of times, I thought I’d lost them, but then the flashlight picked up a sliver of white and we ploughed on.
It felt harder on the way back, without the adrenaline and anticipation.
We were tired, the alcohol no longer making us giddy, just dehydrated and nauseous.
At one point, I stumbled, and my foot sunk deep into mud.
I yelped and managed to tug it free. But it was a reminder that this was swampland.
Go the wrong way, and you could get stuck deep.
I could hear Milo panting behind me. Where was the damn river, the fucking boat? And then I saw it. A glimmer between the trees. Light reflecting on water. I picked up my pace, emerging on to the riverbank. Hauled up on the mud was the kayak.
I glanced at my watch: 10.31 p.m. We’d already missed curfew. There was going to be hell to pay from my mom. We dragged the kayak to the water’s edge. I climbed in. Milo clambered clumsily after me, almost tipping the boat.
‘Careful,’ I chided.
‘Sorry.’
We pushed off, and I dug the paddles fiercely into the water, but it was hard to gain any speed. It was too narrow, the banks too close. We couldn’t risk grounding the kayak, and Milo seemed to be having difficulty steering from the back.
‘You okay?’ I half turned.
‘Fine,’ he mumbled.
But he didn’t look fine. He looked like he was having trouble keeping his eyes open. He yawned. I scooped up a handful of water and flung it back at him.
‘Argh.’ He shook his head, water droplets flying. ‘What did you do that for?’
‘To wake you up.’
He pushed a hand through his wet hair. ‘Okay. Fine. It worked. Don’t do it again.’
We made it out of the narrow river and paddled along the wider stretch of water.
My arms ached, but we had to keep going.
After this, we just had to cross the lake.
I pushed my paddle harder through the water.
And that was when I saw something move on the bank.
A shadow, slipping from the mud into the shallows. Fuck.
‘Milo,’ I hissed. ‘I think I saw a gator.’
‘What? Are you sure?’
‘I think so. We need to move faster.’
We paddled on, out on to the open water of the lake.
The moon was a bright spotlight in the night sky.
I swished my paddle from side to side, trying to keep an eye out for the gator.
I could see the boathouse in the distance.
We could make it, I thought. We could … and then I shrieked as something thudded into the kayak and we lurched sideways.
‘Shit!’
We tilted precariously in the water. I grabbed the boat with one hand, trying to keep grip of the paddle with the other. A swish of dark tail disappeared beneath us.
‘It’s the fucking gator!’ Milo screamed from behind me.
‘I know!’ I shouted back. ‘Just paddle.’
He stared at me.
‘Milo? Paddle!’
Distantly, the town square clock chimed. Eleven o’clock.
Milo’s eyes snapped shut. His head slumped forward, and the paddle slipped from his hands.
‘Milo!’
The gator hit the kayak again. We tilted over to the left.
Milo flopped backwards, his head striking the rear of the kayak.
He slid limply towards the water. I tried to grab him, clutching at the leg of his shorts.
The water frothed. I caught a flash of yellow teeth, smelt the stench of rotting fish.
Then the thin fabric ripped, tearing my fingernails as Milo was dragged from my grasp.
I lashed out with my paddle. Milo disappeared beneath the water. I shrieked in anger and fear, but my scream was drowned out by the sudden roar of a boat’s motor. I looked up. The night exploded with light. I shielded my eyes. Through a loudspeaker, I heard a voice:
‘Stay where you are. Do not move.’
I waved my arms. ‘My friend is in the water; a gator has him.’
The searchlight circled the water in front of me. It frothed and thrashed. I saw an arm, a wide mouth full of teeth … and then shots rang out – one, two, three.
The thrashing stopped. The water stilled. I held my breath. I could see what looked like a body floating lifelessly on the surface. Milo. Someone stuck a pole into the water, hooking him and pulling him towards the boat.
‘Let’s get you out,’ the voice I recognized as the sheriff’s called down to me.
I reached up and let strong arms haul me from the kayak on to the motorboat. I collapsed on to the deck, shaking uncontrollably. Fear, shock, alcohol.
‘Hey, it’s okay. You’re safe now.’ A different male voice.
I tried to focus, but my eyes were still adjusting from the searchlight.
‘Wh— what about Milo?’
‘We’ve got him.’
I looked up at the sheriff. He shook his head. ‘What the hell were you kids thinking?’
‘We just—’
The other man again: ‘You just need to calm down.’
I felt a sting in my arm. And then blackness.