In a winding, candlelit line they passed through the dip that went by the Hatch. It was only feet away, down that last cramped stairway and around a corner. It was a riot of violent, eerie noises, louder than Jonathan had ever heard it. Bangs and shudders and thirsty slurps and the high, pained squeaking of straining iron. Some boys slowed down on the landing that led down to the Hatch. Most shivered and sped up.
Finally, they came to a dark little windowless room, small and wet and cold at the bottom of a crumbling staircase. It was an especially desolate and forgotten corner of the madhouse island. Rats hurried out as the boys came in with their splashing feet and flickering flames, brushing past their feet, causing some boys to cry out and jump.
All together, the group nearly filled the room. The ceiling was low and dripping green slime. Even here, though, they could hear the storm raging away beyond the thick stone walls that surrounded them. It sounded far, and angry, and above them, like they were belowground.
“Here we are,” Sebastian said with satisfaction. “It’s perfect.”
The last kids in were Benny and James. Benny had a rope over his shoulder and a sack in his hands. James was carrying a wooden chair. Sebastian took the chair and set it in the middle of the little floor. Its legs wobbled on the uneven stone. Colin was thunked down in the chair and tied firmly to it with the rope.
“Make sure it’s good and tight,” Sebastian said. When the knots were all tightened and Sebastian had checked them, he stood back and looked at Colin.
“You wanted to sneak around and steal like a little rat. Fine. Benny came up with the perfect punishment. You get to spend the night with the rats. All by yourself.” Colin was panting, his forehead beaded with sweat. He pulled against the ropes binding him, but there was no give. “The bag, please, Benny,” Sebastian said, holding out his hand. He reached inside and pulled out a handful of something. “We want to make sure the rats know their new roommate is here,” he said, holding his hand up to the light. It was full of crackers and bits of cheese from the kitchen. Looking Colin in the eye, he scattered the food around Colin on the floor. He reached into the sack for another handful and tossed it on the floor leading to the stairs. Pulling out one more handful, he crumbled it together in his hand and sprinkled it onto Colin’s lap.
The boys all stood in silence, watching wide-eyed.
“That should do it,” Sebastian said, rubbing his hands on his pant legs. “You should have lots of little friends tonight. Come on, let’s go.”
“You’re jutht gonna leave me here?”
“You got it. Not forever. One long night oughta be enough to teach you a lesson, I think. We can talk more in the morning, you and I.”
The rest of the boys were already starting to plod back up the stairs. No one said a word. As each kid left with his candle, the room got darker and darker.
The last ones left were Sebastian, Benny, Jonathan, and the two goons holding him.
“Aren’t you going to leave me a light, at leatht?”
“Oh. Sure, Colin. Here you go.” Sebastian took a candle from one of the kids leaving and held it out toward Colin. His fingers opened, and the candle fell to the floor. It sputtered and hissed and went out in a puddle. “Oops. Sorry about that. Good night, Colin.”
“Sebastian, seriously, you can’t …” Jonathan began.
Sebastian’s head swung like a hunting panther to Jonathan.
“I can, Johnny,” he seethed. “I can. You had your chance. You picked your side. You’ll get yours after dinner. Don’t worry.”
Jonathan struggled against the boys holding him, but it was no use. He was dragged up the stairs behind Sebastian and Benny and the last candle. The last he saw of Colin, he was sitting in the growing blackness, eyes wide and lips trembling, all alone.
Jonathan tried to pay attention as they made their way back to the dining room. At one point he thought they were close to where the library was, but they never saw it. The Hatch, when they passed it, was making an unholy racket. Like an army of watery demons on the other side, raging to get in. No boys paused to listen this time.
They all stopped cold when they got back to the dining room. There were no longer puddles in the room—the entire floor was under an inch of water. It was black and dappled by rain blowing in through the window. The light of the candles still burning on the tables was reflected eerily on its surface.
Lightning crackled, filling the windows with blinding light. There was a great boom of thunder that made them all jump.
“No letter writing tonight,” Sebastian said, looking at the flooded room. “We can do it first thing in the morning, after the storm. Dinnertime.”
“Uh, Sebastian, this isn’t okay,” David said cautiously.
“It’s fine. A little water won’t hurt us. It’s just ’cause the window’s broken.”
“Where are we gonna sleep, man?” Walter asked, pointing at their waterlogged mattresses still lying on the floor.
“You can bring your beds upstairs for tonight. There’s plenty of room.”