The Hunt for Dark Infinity (The 13th Reality #2)

“Oh, yeah!” Tick couldn’t believe he’d not even looked—a sign that his brain had gone to sleep even though his body had refused. He squatted on the floor between his friends and slowly lifted the bottom of the curtain to take a peek.

Outside, the dark forest stood like a fortress wall, massive trees silhouetted by the pale moonlight seeping through the thick clouds above. The city behind the hotel had a surprising lack of nighttime lights, making Tick feel like they were in a cabin deep in the wilderness. And there in the woods, radiant and eerie and constantly in motion, dozens of creepy glowing shapes moved about the trees.

“Those don’t look like monkeys,” Tick whispered. When he’d heard the word glowing, he’d imagined his old skeleton Halloween decoration back home, which appeared as a whitish-yellowish blur in the darkness. But this light was much different. This light was bright and stark and reddish, and the creatures looked a lot bigger than monkeys. “They look more like . . . radioactive bears.”

“Yeah,” Paul whispered back. “Demon bears.”

“Why are you guys whispering?” Sofia said, so loud that both Tick and Paul quickly shushed her. “What? You think those things will come and eat us? I’m pretty sure the hotel would’ve gone out of business if their customers were routinely eaten by monkeys whenever they spoke louder than a whisper.”

“I don’t know,” Paul said, still in a low voice. “Just seems like you should whisper when spying on monstrous, glowing creatures. So be quiet.”

“Pansy,” Sofia muttered, returning to the window.

Paul reached over and elbowed Tick. “Did you teach her that word?”

“No.”

“She’s getting way too American—makes me uncomfortable.”

Sofia tsked. “I love it when you guys talk about me as if I can’t hear you.”

“What do you think those things are?” Tick asked, trying to steer the conversation in a different direction before Paul ended up getting punched again.

“I bet it has something to do with the ban on cars,” Sofia said. “Something really weird happened here. Maybe it affected the animals. Maybe they are radioactive.”

“Remind me not to go on a walk out there tomorrow after breakfast,” Paul said.

Tick let the curtain fall into place and leaned back against the bed. “That’s enough monkey-watching for me. Phillip’s bringing us that message from Mothball in just a few hours. We need some sleep.”

“How can you sleep with psycho-radioactive-gorilla-bears playing outside your window?” Paul asked, his nose seemingly glued to the glass.

“I think I’ll manage. Get out.”

Surprisingly, Sofia grumbled more than Paul did as Tick kicked them out of his room.

~

The next morning, Phillip didn’t pound the door nearly as hard as Paul had done just a few hours earlier. At first, the light tapping came in the form of a woodpecker in Tick’s dream, one where he sat in the backyard laughing while his dad jumped about trying to put out flames on the barbecue. It happened every time the man made hamburgers, which is why Tick always made sure he had a front-row seat.

A woodpecker had never been there, however, and even in his dream, Tick knew something was wrong. When it kept knocking and pecking and tapping, he somehow pulled himself out of sleep. With groggy eyes and cottonmouth, he got out of bed and stumbled to the door, sad that the dream had been interrupted.

Phillip wore the exact same clothes as he had yesterday, still rocking back and forth on his feet. He handed over a yellow envelope—one that looked very familiar to Tick, who snatched it without meaning to.

“Sorry,” he said. “Just eager to read it.”

“Are you finding your stay pleasant?” Phillip asked, no emotion or sincerity in his voice whatsoever.

“Yes, we really appreciate it,” Tick said, unable to take his eyes off the envelope, which bore no marking or writing. When he finally looked up, Phillip had already begun walking down the hall toward the stairs.

Thoughts of the odd man quickly evaporated as Tick hurried to knock on Paul’s door. It took three tries, but Paul finally answered, rubbing his eyes.

“Come on,” Tick urged, heading next door to Sofia’s room.

He’d just held up his hand to knock when the door flew open, Sofia waiting there—fully dressed in her newly provided clothes and looking surprisingly pretty. “Did you get the note?”

Tick held up the envelope.

“Then get in here and let’s open it,” she said, stepping aside and almost comically jerking her head toward the inside.

Tick entered and sat in the desk chair, with Paul looking over his right shoulder, Sofia his left. With slightly trembling hands, Tick opened the envelope and pulled out a piece of white cardstock paper. With the others following along, he read the typed words out loud:

This place is nice, but not quite heaven.



You must start on the hour of seven



Add six hours then take away three,



Then add ten more and do it with glee.



Let one week of time go by,



Sit and rest and eat and sigh.



Then twenty-two hours less three plus two,



At that time decide what to do.



It does not matter; I do not care.