The Girl With the Bad Dreams

Chapter 15

Detective Warabowski has slumped down so now he's lying on the floor, leaning his face on his hand and his hand on his elbow, watching TV, bored, like a kid in a rec room. He's changed from sports center to CNN and the TV drones with the same news story cycle on a seemingly endless loop.

Then Warabowski notices something out of the corner of his eye. He doesn't get up, but he does shift his attention, moving his eyes to focus on the floor to ceiling windows. Sure enough, there's a flash of light.

Now Warabowski gets up. He's unsteady at first as the blood returns to his numb limbs. But then he reaches the windows and stares out into the night, directly at the island. But it's silent and dark. All he can see is the ghostly image of the TV reflected in the glass. Was that the source of the flash?

Warabowski clicks off the TV to be sure. He continues to stare at the island. Nothing happens. He must have imagined it. He reaches for the remote to turn the TV back on when suddenly once again he sees another flash out of the corner of his eye.

This time he's sure. Warabowski checks his shoulder holster to make sure his gun is secure. Then he heads out back.

Warabowski moves with purpose toward the lake shore. When he reaches it he begins to carefully and quietly walk around the circumference of the lake. It's a moonless night, but there's little light pollution this far from a city, so a blanket of stars is draped across the black sky. Warabowski doesn't use his flashlight from fear of giving away his surveillance. If someone's on the island, he doesn't want them to know he's watching.

Suddenly, Warabowski sees another flash of light. He stops and stares. There is a dim glow, very hard to detect because it's red instead of white light.

Warabowski looks for any way across the lake to the island. There doesn't appear to be any, so he steels himself and wades into the dark water.

Holding his radio, gun and holster over his head, Warabowski swims as quietly as possible, like a commando. He reaches the shore and uses the roots of the tree to pull himself up the muddy bank.

The red glow is closer now and easier to detect. Warabowski takes a moment to quietly wring out his pants. He then re-slings his holster, climbs to his feet, and approaches the glow in a stealthy crouch.

Warabowski emerges into a small clearing. The glow is emanating from a crude wooden trap door planted in the muddy ground. It's cunningly concealed by undergrowth. Warabowski never would have found it if not for the red glow. Curious, he pulls it open.

It reveals a narrow shaft dug into the soft soil that descends toard the center of the island. The red glow is coming from deeper within the shaft.

Warabowski carefully adjusts his radio to its minimum volume setting and then clicks a message. "Yeah?" comes Valquez voice, ghostly quiet, through the speaker.

"I found something on the island," Warabowski whispers into the receiver.

"What?"

"I dunno. Some sort of tunnel. I'm gonna check it out."

"Hold on I'll back you up."

"No, keep your eyes on the girl. I'll call if I find anything." Warabowski shuts off the radio, clips it back to his shoulder holster, and then slips, feet first, down into the muddy shaft.

The tunnel is too small for Jim to stand upright. Instead he has to worm down the steep and slippery incline on his butt. But as it levels out it transforms into a larger chamber.

This chamber is the source of the red glow. It looks like the inside of a Vietnam War tent, with cots and footlockers and creates full of ammunition and grenades. Black and white photographs depict a marine platoon serving its tour of duty. Most of the images are typical: soldiers playing basketball or posing proudly with their weapons.