“This is where Doctor Twist said his professor’s workshop used to be located,” Kera said as we stood on the cobblestones before a large warehouse. The black-mouldy red bricks were faintly mirrored in the oily pools from an earlier rain and the sky showed fitful signs of clearing. I gazed around in the dreary shrouded full moon’s light escaping around a retreating mass of clouds and stubborn patches of fog. “I see no lights, hear no sounds, and have no idea how to get in.”
“Twist said the place is protected from intruders in some way.” My eyes cast about for the twentieth time. “Everything looks so ordinary. The workshop could be underground. There could be weapons set to kill automatically. Just when we need Twist’s brains most, we must go wanting.”
Kera and I prowled some more and located a lever and gear-and-chain assembly along the side. Both of us strained and worked it until a great steel and wood door swung upward with a heavy clanking and hissing. Thick clots of greasy mud and water dripped from the fouled wood and stone ramp beneath it. We ran around to the opening and saw a strangely-glowing figure haloed in the black interior. The short, bow-legged figure had its back to us and faced a far rear corner of the cavernous room.
“It’s Dodge,” Kera quavered. I stepped up onto the dock toward him at once, drawing my firearm, though Kera tried to hold me back.
“Where is Doctor Twist?” I demanded. Seeing I would not be stopped, Kera drew her pistols as well.
“Where is Doctor Twist?” I gritted again when the apparition turned to face us but made no answer, only began to retreat backward.
Free tomorrow and Wednesday. http://www.amazon.com/Dodge-Tobacconist-Alexander-Legacy-ebook/dp/B009NV1DMG