IN ROOM 33 Read Online Free Page B

Room 33, Lars and Rebecca beside him.
    "We're not kidding, Wade, something went on in there last night. Maybe two o'clock or so." Lars spoke urgently. "You should take a look at least."
    Wade wondered how the hell he'd let himself be elected caretaker, when he hadn't even run for the damn job. He'd started cleaning the place for something to do, and the next day, somebody in the hotel—he suspected it was Sinnie—dropped a set of keys off at his door and anointed him king. His dumb luck, the management company supposedly responsible for the place hadn't bothered to replace the former caretaker who bolted months ago. So here he was, standing at Room 33's door with a ragtag contingent of tenants breathing down his back.
    Maybe Room 33 was one of the things that had drawn him back to the Phil, but he never planned on visiting it with an entourage.
    "I didn't hear anything," he said. "And I'm only two doors down. And"—he tried the door—"the room is still locked. Maybe you heard me sleepwalking."
    "You sleepwalk?" Rebecca said. "Cool."
    "Rebecca, he's kidding," Lars said. Rebecca rolled her eyes. "And as for the lock," he gestured toward the bulb-shaped keyhole, "this one's original—you could open it with a paper clip."
    "Tell me again what you heard," Wade said.
    "A couple of thuds, as if something dropped, then someone rattling down the fire escape—in a big hurry. They made a hell of noise."
    "That outside fire escape hasn't been used for years. Not since they put fire stairs inside in the sixties."
    "Someone used it last night, Wade. I can't believe you didn't hear it," Lars insisted.
    Wade hadn't heard it, because he hadn't been here at two o'clock, but he wasn't about to tell Lars and Rebecca that. When he couldn't sleep, which was damn near every night, he walked, sometimes ran, until he was exhausted. Better that than counting stains on the ceiling. Counting his sins.
    Lars and the very pregnant Rebecca lived in Number 26, along with two cats, a snake-mean parrot, and ten tons of art supplies. They'd been living in the Philip for a couple of years. They were maybe twenty or so, generally broke, crazy about each other, and cause-happy. The first week Wade was here, Rebecca had proudly showed him a newspaper photo of Lars chained to a towering cedar in Oregon, where they'd spent time saving trees.
    "You think there's anything to that 'room of doom' stuff?" Lars asked.
    Wade's head snapped up. "Where did you hear about that?" He hadn't heard that stupid phrase in years.
    "Found an old clipping behind the front desk."
    "Yeah, well, don't believe everything you read."
    "I don't, but I thought maybe you did. You still haven't opened the door," Lars prodded.
    Wade's gut contracted, and something with a thousand legs crawled along his spine. But it wasn't an urban legend inspired by an old newspaper piece that was holding him back. What did was his business.
    Mike came up behind them. "What's goin' on?"
    Wade turned, looked up. Ex-wrestler, ex-con, Mike was a huge man. Mostly gone to fat, but Wade, judging from how easily the man moved, knew there was lots of muscle under the blubber. "The artists here say they heard something in here last night."
    "Yeah—me, too. Let's take a look."
    Wade decided to get it over with and turned the key in the lock, but it was Mike who pushed the door open, and it protested every inch.
    "See?" Rebecca said to Lars. "I told you I heard creaking."
    Mike gave the door one final shove to open it fully, and everybody peered in. Nobody walked in.
    Morning sun filtered through the dirt on the high, narrow, and undraped windows, and dust motes, set loose by the draft coming in from the hall, shivered and rose to dance dully in the paltry light.
    Wade immediately looked toward the bathroom. The door was ajar, open enough for him to see cracked black-and-white floor tiles and the edge of the old, claw-footed tub; its lion paws clenching grimy glass balls. His breath jammed in his throat.
    "This