The Boy in the Tunnel

Fall 1997, Chapter 36: Tim Pt. 2

"Who's there?" said Tim.

"You have the Cloak. Do you want your reward?"

Tim stepped into the dark room, trying to make out any discernible features. But the light from the hallway only seemed to penetrate a few inches beyond the door.

"I thought you didn't get the reward till the end of the game."

"No, I have it here. Come closer."

This is an obvious trap. Well, clearly. But there was something behind the voice. Something rumbling, almost subsonic. Bass, from another room. Tim could almost place it. He just needed to get a little closer – try to catch the melody. He took another step in. He could hear, distantly, a whine like a dying siren.

He was pretty sure it was "Gin and Juice."

Two hands lunged out of the darkness. Tim sidestepped them, and the Shambling Horror fell in a heap on the floor like a pile of lawn clippings, half in and half out of the dark room.

He looked up at Tim. Tim hadn't caught his name. "Help," he said, but before Tim could answer, he took another swipe at Tim's ankle. Tim danced out of the way.

"Nice try," Tim said, momentum carrying him backwards toward the stairs. He shouldered through the door and descended. He took the steps two at a time and had his hand on the door to F2T3 when he remembered it belonged to the Blues.

He looked back up the stairwell. The Shambling Horror couldn't pursue him, but he could be lying in wait for Tim to return. The stairwell itself was Blue, if he'd read Jay's heavily-marked-up map correctly. But it only connected F3T2 and F2T3. He could only go forward or go back up.

"Goddamn it, Tim," he said, after thirty seconds had passed with his hand still on the door. He decided to risk it. He'd probably already lost the game anyway.

Tim kicked open the door and waited in the stairwell, hoping the noise would draw out any waiting Blues. But no sound came from the other side of the door. Tim stepped into the empty hall, as dead as the one above.

If he knew where the Red Mausoleum was, he could go there and try to head off Stacy before she could find it, or if she'd already found it, at least take the MiloBall and try to find the Blue Mausoleum. But Jay hadn't shared that bit of information with him. "You already jumped two levels," he'd said. "You don't get to know all the secrets."

The rules say he doesn't have to tell you where your own team's Mausoleum is, but there's no strategic reason not to tell you. Unless he's concerned you'll fall victim to the Hoop of Truth, but the chances of that happening are so slim that it's worth the risk to tell you where the Mausoleum is. Withholding that information is nothing more than a power move. But some would argue that power moves are the true foundation of MiloBall, so it's in keeping with the spirit of the game.

Tim crept up the hall, listening for the scuffling of feet or the sound of a secret door opening. The hall didn't follow the same curving path as the one above. It deadended in a T-intersection. To Tim's left was another stairwell. To his right, another 40 feet of hallway, ending in a security gate like the one on his own hall, though unmanned, and just beyond that, a sharp right turn.

Tim poked his head into the stairwell. It only went up, probably straight to the fourth floor. He couldn't remember if the stairs themselves were Red or Blue territory.

It might be smart to go up to the fourth floor. It would make sense for Jay to put the Mausoleum there. From what you've heard, lingering at the mailboxes or waiting in the grill line at Weston, the fourth floor is even more of a maze than the rest of Wintertree. He might have even put it on the roof – which has an unbelievable view of campus and has earned such a reputation as a sure-fire can't-miss location for sexual encounters that the RA put up a sign-up sheet. Or, again, so you've heard, anyway.