The Chase
After nearly an hour of crouched debate in the drainage ditch, the boys made their decision.
They were going back for Fox.
They didn’t know exactly where he was, but Michael had a plan: Andrew would keep watch while he and Nathan slipped back into the shack through the broken window. If things went south, he figured he and Nathan could escape quickly.
“Once we’ve got Fox, we meet back here and figure out our next move,” Michael said.
“Sounds like a plan,” Nathan nodded, brushing dirt from his jeans.
“Let’s do it,” Andrew muttered. “Still think we should leave him.”
They crept through the cornfield, careful not to rustle the stalks. The sun had dipped lower, casting long shadows across the rows. When they reached the shack, Nathan peered through the same broken window they’d escaped from earlier.
There he was—Fox, tied to a chair in the garage.
Too easy, Nathan thought. Which meant one thing: a trap.
Andrew took position at a vine-covered window, just visible enough to see inside without being seen. Michael cupped his hands, boosting Nathan up. Nathan slipped through the window, landing silently on the workbench before crouching low and moving toward Fox.
Inside, Frank, Winston, and Bob were still at the kitchen table, arguing. Winston jabbed at the bank blueprints while Frank smacked him upside the head.
Nathan reached Fox and began untying the ropes. Fox winced as circulation returned to his arms, but he didn’t say a word. When the last knot came loose, he stood and followed Nathan toward the window.
Outside, Michael and Andrew waited. Andrew had just returned from his lookout post.
Nathan climbed out first. Fox followed—but as he swung his leg over the sill, his foot clipped a stack of cans. They clattered to the floor with a metallic rattle.
“Go!” Nathan hissed.
Fox tumbled out the window, and the boys bolted into the cornfield.
Inside, the three men burst into the garage just in time to see the last shadow disappear into the stalks.
“He’s gone!” Frank shouted. “They’re heading for the park!”
“We need to stop them before they reach the cops,” Frank growled.
“You and Winston take the field,” Bob said, already moving. “I’ll cut them off with the truck.”
“Right,” Winston said, cracking his knuckles.
The three men stormed out the front door. Bob peeled off toward the road, the blue truck roaring to life as it tore through the weeds. Frank and Winston plunged into the cornfield, hot on the boys’ trail.
The chase had begun.
Frank and Winston tore through the cornfield, stalks slapping against their arms, until they reached the drainage ditch.
“Where do you think they went, mate?” Winston panted.
“Other side of the tree line,” Frank said, scanning ahead. “That park’s got pay phones. They’ll try to call the pigs.”
“Then let’s move!”
They plunged into the tree line, pushing through tall, dead weeds. Sliding down the slope on the cornfield side, they hit the bottom of the ditch and scrambled across. Vines dangled from the trees above, and the two men used them to climb the opposite bank, emerging into the park.
They didn’t know it, but just yards away, hidden in a rill behind a rusted piece of farm machinery, the four boys were watching.
“They’re going to search the park,” Andrew whispered. “If they don’t find us, they’ll come back here.”
“We could double back to the road,” Nathan said. “Cross into the other cornfield and wait.”
“If we could make it to the Gates of Dawn, we’d be safe,” Michael said.
“They’ve got a truck. And guns,” Andrew reminded him.
“Yeah, but we’ve got legs. We should try,” Michael replied.
Fox pointed toward a structure half-swallowed by a bush. “What about that outhouse?”
The others turned. It looked ordinary enough—white wooden siding, slanted metal roof—but the door was strange: a full-sized wooden house door, complete with a brass knob.
“That’s a good idea,” Nathan said. “Let’s go.”
They crept toward the outhouse, staying low in case Frank or Winston doubled back. Nathan reached the door and slowly turned the knob.
Inside, instead of a cramped wooden stall, they found a narrow white hallway stretching forward. At the far end, on the left, stood another door.
“What is this place?” Michael whispered.
No one answered. One by one, the boys stepped inside, closing the door behind them.
Fox pointed. “Let’s see what’s behind that other door.”
The boys moved cautiously down the narrow hallway toward the second door.
“It’s probably a back exit,” Andrew muttered.
Nathan reached for the handle and slowly turned it. The door creaked open—not to the outside, but into a vast, high-tech chamber.
On either side of the doorway stretched massive computer banks, humming softly. At the front of the room, a white-lit floor glowed like a stage. Across the room, an open passage led deeper into the structure. At the rear, another white door stood closed. In the center, a large L-shaped control console gleamed—stainless steel, futuristic, alien.
Near the door sat a small wooden box.
“What is this place?” Nathan whispered, stepping inside.
Fox drifted toward the console and found a thick book resting beside a monitor. He opened it and began to read.
“Oh great,” Andrew said, throwing up his hands. “We’re being chased by armed lunatics, and Fox decides it’s story time.”
Nathan opened the wooden box. Inside were four silver bracelets.
“Here,” he said, handing them out.
Andrew took one, then Michael, then Fox. They slipped the bracelets onto their wrists, unsure of what they were.
“Hey, what’s this button do?” Andrew asked, pressing a blue circle on his bracelet.
In a blink, he vanished—then reappeared in the glowing white-lit area at the front of the room.
“Teleportation,” Fox said, turning the bracelet around his wrist. “That’s wild.”
Michael looked around. “So again—what is this place?”
Fox shrugged. “Maybe this book can tell us.”
Andrew paced. “Forget the tech. What about those guys outside?”
“They’re probably gone,” Michael said.
“Or doubled back,” Fox countered.
“They’d never think to look in here,” Michael said. “From the outside, it’s just an outhouse.”
Nathan pointed to the white door at the back. “I wonder what’s behind that.”
“Probably leads outside,” Michael said. “Let’s check—see if the coast is clear.”
Nathan, Andrew, and Michael approached the door. Fox stayed behind, elbows on the console, eyes scanning the book.
Nathan cracked the door open. All three boys leaned in—then Nathan shoved them back and flung the door wide.
A long white hallway stretched ahead, lined with doors on either side.
“I wonder how big this place is,” Andrew said.
“Let’s find out,” Michael replied.
“Coming, Fox?” Nathan called.
Fox closed the book and stood. But before he could reach the others, the first door burst open.
“THERE THEY ARE!” Winston shouted.
The boys screamed and bolted down the hallway. Behind them, Frank, Winston, and Bob tangled in the doorway, tripping over each other in a chaotic mess that gave the boys precious seconds to escape.
They reached a T-junction—one hallway continued straight, another veered right. On the left, two potted plants flanked a pair of elevator doors.
“Turn here!” Michael shouted.
Nathan yanked open a door on the right. The boys rushed inside—only to find themselves outside again, standing on a cliff overlooking a vast sandpit.
The pit stretched out like a crater, the size of a football field. Above them, two massive moons hung in the sky, casting pale light across the dunes.
“Where are we?” Andrew asked.
“No idea,” Michael said, pointing upward. “But look.”
Fox stepped forward, eyes wide. “This isn’t Earth.”
“We need to hide,” Andrew said. “Just in case they saw us come in.”
“There,” Nathan said, pointing to a circular patch of trees and thorn bushes at the base of the pit.
They slid down the sandy ridge, careful to erase their tracks. At the bottom, they huddled in the weeds, hearts pounding, eyes scanning the cliff above.
“We hide here for a while,” Nathan whispered, “then try to make our way back to that control room.”
The boys lay low beneath the thick brush of the grove, eyes fixed on the door they’d exited earlier. It creaked open. Frank, Winston, and Bob stepped through.
“Where’d those little brats go?” Bob growled.
“No clue, mate,” Winston muttered. “But seriously—how the hell did kids build a place like this?”
“Maybe when we catch them, they’ll tell us,” Frank said.
“Let’s climb to the top and get a better view,” Bob suggested.
“Maybe they headed back to town,” Winston added.
The boys watched as the three men climbed to the rim of the sandpit, scanning the horizon.
“There!” Winston shouted, pointing to the right.
The men took off, sprinting into the distance until they vanished from sight.
“Now’s our chance,” Michael said.
The boys bolted from their hiding spot, scrambling up the sandy cliff and slipping back through the door.
Inside the white hallway, they shut the door behind them and caught their breath.
“Back to the control room?” Andrew asked.
“No,” Nathan said. “That’s the first place they’ll check. We need to find somewhere else to hide.”
They moved quickly, climbing a flight of stairs and turning down another corridor. Soon, they were lost.
Fox, still clutching the book, spoke up. “Guys, I’ve been reading this, and it’s fascinating.”
“Not now, Fox,” Andrew snapped.
“No, wait,” Michael said. “Maybe Fox found something useful.”
“What did you learn?” Nathan asked.
“This place is huge,” Fox said.
“No duh,” Andrew muttered.
“No—I mean infinite,” Fox replied. “It’s made of four types of rooms: regular rooms, outside rooms, time rooms, and parallel universe rooms.”
“What does that mean?” Nathan asked.
“Time rooms are probably filled with clocks,” Andrew joked.
Fox ignored him. “Regular rooms are just normal spaces—living rooms, bedrooms, stuff like that. Outside rooms are micro-planets. They’re about the size of Earth, but they exist in pocket dimensions. That sandpit we were in? That was an outside room.”
The boys exchanged glances.
“Time rooms,” Fox continued, “are linked to specific points in history—past, present, or future. You walk through the door, and you’re in that time. But here’s the catch: you need the bracelets to get out. If you don’t have one—or it breaks—you’re stuck.”
“And parallel universe rooms?” Michael asked.
“Same deal. They connect to alternate realities. You need the bracelet to exit.”
“You got all that from one book?” Michael asked.
“Yeah,” Fox said. “Guys, we’ve found something incredible. We should keep this place secret.”
“Once we deal with those guys,” Michael said, “we could move this whole thing to our clubhouse—or Fox’s house.”
They kept walking, deeper into the hallway, voices low, minds racing.
Somewhere behind them, the corridors shifted.
They were going back for Fox.
They didn’t know exactly where he was, but Michael had a plan: Andrew would keep watch while he and Nathan slipped back into the shack through the broken window. If things went south, he figured he and Nathan could escape quickly.
“Once we’ve got Fox, we meet back here and figure out our next move,” Michael said.
“Sounds like a plan,” Nathan nodded, brushing dirt from his jeans.
“Let’s do it,” Andrew muttered. “Still think we should leave him.”
They crept through the cornfield, careful not to rustle the stalks. The sun had dipped lower, casting long shadows across the rows. When they reached the shack, Nathan peered through the same broken window they’d escaped from earlier.
There he was—Fox, tied to a chair in the garage.
Too easy, Nathan thought. Which meant one thing: a trap.
Andrew took position at a vine-covered window, just visible enough to see inside without being seen. Michael cupped his hands, boosting Nathan up. Nathan slipped through the window, landing silently on the workbench before crouching low and moving toward Fox.
Inside, Frank, Winston, and Bob were still at the kitchen table, arguing. Winston jabbed at the bank blueprints while Frank smacked him upside the head.
Nathan reached Fox and began untying the ropes. Fox winced as circulation returned to his arms, but he didn’t say a word. When the last knot came loose, he stood and followed Nathan toward the window.
Outside, Michael and Andrew waited. Andrew had just returned from his lookout post.
Nathan climbed out first. Fox followed—but as he swung his leg over the sill, his foot clipped a stack of cans. They clattered to the floor with a metallic rattle.
“Go!” Nathan hissed.
Fox tumbled out the window, and the boys bolted into the cornfield.
Inside, the three men burst into the garage just in time to see the last shadow disappear into the stalks.
“He’s gone!” Frank shouted. “They’re heading for the park!”
“We need to stop them before they reach the cops,” Frank growled.
“You and Winston take the field,” Bob said, already moving. “I’ll cut them off with the truck.”
“Right,” Winston said, cracking his knuckles.
The three men stormed out the front door. Bob peeled off toward the road, the blue truck roaring to life as it tore through the weeds. Frank and Winston plunged into the cornfield, hot on the boys’ trail.
The chase had begun.
Frank and Winston tore through the cornfield, stalks slapping against their arms, until they reached the drainage ditch.
“Where do you think they went, mate?” Winston panted.
“Other side of the tree line,” Frank said, scanning ahead. “That park’s got pay phones. They’ll try to call the pigs.”
“Then let’s move!”
They plunged into the tree line, pushing through tall, dead weeds. Sliding down the slope on the cornfield side, they hit the bottom of the ditch and scrambled across. Vines dangled from the trees above, and the two men used them to climb the opposite bank, emerging into the park.
They didn’t know it, but just yards away, hidden in a rill behind a rusted piece of farm machinery, the four boys were watching.
“They’re going to search the park,” Andrew whispered. “If they don’t find us, they’ll come back here.”
“We could double back to the road,” Nathan said. “Cross into the other cornfield and wait.”
“If we could make it to the Gates of Dawn, we’d be safe,” Michael said.
“They’ve got a truck. And guns,” Andrew reminded him.
“Yeah, but we’ve got legs. We should try,” Michael replied.
Fox pointed toward a structure half-swallowed by a bush. “What about that outhouse?”
The others turned. It looked ordinary enough—white wooden siding, slanted metal roof—but the door was strange: a full-sized wooden house door, complete with a brass knob.
“That’s a good idea,” Nathan said. “Let’s go.”
They crept toward the outhouse, staying low in case Frank or Winston doubled back. Nathan reached the door and slowly turned the knob.
Inside, instead of a cramped wooden stall, they found a narrow white hallway stretching forward. At the far end, on the left, stood another door.
“What is this place?” Michael whispered.
No one answered. One by one, the boys stepped inside, closing the door behind them.
Fox pointed. “Let’s see what’s behind that other door.”
The boys moved cautiously down the narrow hallway toward the second door.
“It’s probably a back exit,” Andrew muttered.
Nathan reached for the handle and slowly turned it. The door creaked open—not to the outside, but into a vast, high-tech chamber.
On either side of the doorway stretched massive computer banks, humming softly. At the front of the room, a white-lit floor glowed like a stage. Across the room, an open passage led deeper into the structure. At the rear, another white door stood closed. In the center, a large L-shaped control console gleamed—stainless steel, futuristic, alien.
Near the door sat a small wooden box.
“What is this place?” Nathan whispered, stepping inside.
Fox drifted toward the console and found a thick book resting beside a monitor. He opened it and began to read.
“Oh great,” Andrew said, throwing up his hands. “We’re being chased by armed lunatics, and Fox decides it’s story time.”
Nathan opened the wooden box. Inside were four silver bracelets.
“Here,” he said, handing them out.
Andrew took one, then Michael, then Fox. They slipped the bracelets onto their wrists, unsure of what they were.
“Hey, what’s this button do?” Andrew asked, pressing a blue circle on his bracelet.
In a blink, he vanished—then reappeared in the glowing white-lit area at the front of the room.
“Teleportation,” Fox said, turning the bracelet around his wrist. “That’s wild.”
Michael looked around. “So again—what is this place?”
Fox shrugged. “Maybe this book can tell us.”
Andrew paced. “Forget the tech. What about those guys outside?”
“They’re probably gone,” Michael said.
“Or doubled back,” Fox countered.
“They’d never think to look in here,” Michael said. “From the outside, it’s just an outhouse.”
Nathan pointed to the white door at the back. “I wonder what’s behind that.”
“Probably leads outside,” Michael said. “Let’s check—see if the coast is clear.”
Nathan, Andrew, and Michael approached the door. Fox stayed behind, elbows on the console, eyes scanning the book.
Nathan cracked the door open. All three boys leaned in—then Nathan shoved them back and flung the door wide.
A long white hallway stretched ahead, lined with doors on either side.
“I wonder how big this place is,” Andrew said.
“Let’s find out,” Michael replied.
“Coming, Fox?” Nathan called.
Fox closed the book and stood. But before he could reach the others, the first door burst open.
“THERE THEY ARE!” Winston shouted.
The boys screamed and bolted down the hallway. Behind them, Frank, Winston, and Bob tangled in the doorway, tripping over each other in a chaotic mess that gave the boys precious seconds to escape.
They reached a T-junction—one hallway continued straight, another veered right. On the left, two potted plants flanked a pair of elevator doors.
“Turn here!” Michael shouted.
Nathan yanked open a door on the right. The boys rushed inside—only to find themselves outside again, standing on a cliff overlooking a vast sandpit.
The pit stretched out like a crater, the size of a football field. Above them, two massive moons hung in the sky, casting pale light across the dunes.
“Where are we?” Andrew asked.
“No idea,” Michael said, pointing upward. “But look.”
Fox stepped forward, eyes wide. “This isn’t Earth.”
“We need to hide,” Andrew said. “Just in case they saw us come in.”
“There,” Nathan said, pointing to a circular patch of trees and thorn bushes at the base of the pit.
They slid down the sandy ridge, careful to erase their tracks. At the bottom, they huddled in the weeds, hearts pounding, eyes scanning the cliff above.
“We hide here for a while,” Nathan whispered, “then try to make our way back to that control room.”
The boys lay low beneath the thick brush of the grove, eyes fixed on the door they’d exited earlier. It creaked open. Frank, Winston, and Bob stepped through.
“Where’d those little brats go?” Bob growled.
“No clue, mate,” Winston muttered. “But seriously—how the hell did kids build a place like this?”
“Maybe when we catch them, they’ll tell us,” Frank said.
“Let’s climb to the top and get a better view,” Bob suggested.
“Maybe they headed back to town,” Winston added.
The boys watched as the three men climbed to the rim of the sandpit, scanning the horizon.
“There!” Winston shouted, pointing to the right.
The men took off, sprinting into the distance until they vanished from sight.
“Now’s our chance,” Michael said.
The boys bolted from their hiding spot, scrambling up the sandy cliff and slipping back through the door.
Inside the white hallway, they shut the door behind them and caught their breath.
“Back to the control room?” Andrew asked.
“No,” Nathan said. “That’s the first place they’ll check. We need to find somewhere else to hide.”
They moved quickly, climbing a flight of stairs and turning down another corridor. Soon, they were lost.
Fox, still clutching the book, spoke up. “Guys, I’ve been reading this, and it’s fascinating.”
“Not now, Fox,” Andrew snapped.
“No, wait,” Michael said. “Maybe Fox found something useful.”
“What did you learn?” Nathan asked.
“This place is huge,” Fox said.
“No duh,” Andrew muttered.
“No—I mean infinite,” Fox replied. “It’s made of four types of rooms: regular rooms, outside rooms, time rooms, and parallel universe rooms.”
“What does that mean?” Nathan asked.
“Time rooms are probably filled with clocks,” Andrew joked.
Fox ignored him. “Regular rooms are just normal spaces—living rooms, bedrooms, stuff like that. Outside rooms are micro-planets. They’re about the size of Earth, but they exist in pocket dimensions. That sandpit we were in? That was an outside room.”
The boys exchanged glances.
“Time rooms,” Fox continued, “are linked to specific points in history—past, present, or future. You walk through the door, and you’re in that time. But here’s the catch: you need the bracelets to get out. If you don’t have one—or it breaks—you’re stuck.”
“And parallel universe rooms?” Michael asked.
“Same deal. They connect to alternate realities. You need the bracelet to exit.”
“You got all that from one book?” Michael asked.
“Yeah,” Fox said. “Guys, we’ve found something incredible. We should keep this place secret.”
“Once we deal with those guys,” Michael said, “we could move this whole thing to our clubhouse—or Fox’s house.”
They kept walking, deeper into the hallway, voices low, minds racing.
Somewhere behind them, the corridors shifted.