Nothing But Bones

33: The Vault

Elton puts his hand on her shoulder. "It's over now. Mostly, anyway. Are you okay?"

It takes a moment for her to answer.

"Honestly?" She looks at him, brows furrowed. "Yeah. I think I am."

He nods, giving her a smile. "What do you want to do with dickless downstairs?"

"I guess I have to take him back to America. And I have to get my shit from the pocket dimension. So I will be stealing from him." She nods to herself, suddenly aware of all the blood she's lost. It's all down her front, leaching from her saturated shirt into her jeans. "Yes. Good plan. My chest is open."

Hmm. Her chest is open. That doesn't bode well. Maybe she can put some plastic in there and watch the blood well up like the world's silliest aquarium, until it overflows and breaks the bounds, and spills out like sharks and starfish.

When Kepler smacks her leg gently, Tiff shakes her head to break the haze setting in over her. "Right. Yeah. No— I can do the other two later. Come back with the Accord and pack it full of books or something. Boris takes precedence, and that's... Fuck, do I have to call the agent again?"

Kepler gives her a come on look.

"Right. I could text him. Tie this guy up and text him— leashes and ropes."

"How do you plan on smuggling him back into the States?" Elton waves off his own question. "Right, portals."

She shrugs. "Eh. I've had my fill of portals today. I think the government can come collect their special little boy if they want him so bad."

Frederick comes up next to Tiff, skull grinning as he looks to her. "Quite the night, I'd say. If you need to rest up and do whatever you need to do, I can look after our friend. If he causes me any trouble, I'll hit him in the head with my arm. I was quite the boxer in my day."

He waves the arm that fell off at her. It rattles gently like a child's clapper toy.

She can't help but chuckle. "Somehow, I don't doubt that. Let me gag and bind him first— not in a fun way— and I'll be back in a few hours."

"Excellent! Suppose I'll have the old place to myself after all of this is said and done. Or maybe I'll go walking about the country and scare passing motorists!"

"Sounds like a plan. I think you could haunt your own home—"

"Oh!" he interrupts. "Yes, before you go... I'd like you to have something."

"But what is it?"

"Follow me and you'll see. I think you'll find it very interesting."

The skeletal man beckons the teens with a wave of his boney hand and heads down to the basement where Dingus sits next to Boris still in his hellhound form.

"You see, my family was— and I imagine still is— full of eccentrics. At least, that's what we were called in my day. Collectors of the macabre, the strange, and the queer. Myself included."

Tiff chuckles, but doesn't say anything. It's probably not a great idea to make that joke to a guy who died in 1954.

"Most of it was silly trinkets and the like. But not everything. Right before I died, I came into possession of a book," he continues. After a moment of looking around, he points to the wall on the other side of the basement where an old, battered china cabinet sits. "Ah, it's still there! Could we move these boxes?"

A few moments later, after Tiff explains everything to Elton and the two of them force their injured bodies to move Boris's boxes, the way is clear and the large cabinet is pushed aside. The exposed section of wall looks similar to everywhere else, all dark bricks and mildew, until Frederick presses a point and the wall separates to slide open. Cobwebs on the other side dance in the sudden wind.