chest. In his reflection he saw his gun protruding from his pants.
“The world’s youngest gunfighter,” Andrew thought as he pulled his shirt over the gun. He jumped as Nick murmured something in his sleep, which sounded like ‘pancake’. Yet Nick’s breathing steadily continued, and Andrew relaxed. He grabbed the purse Margaret had left for him and slung it over his shoulder. He supposed in this world it was fashionable for a man to wear a purse. This one slung over his shoulder like a small backpack.
Andrew looked over at Nick, and felt a pang of sadness. “Goodbye, Nick,” he whispered, and snuck out of the room.
IV
Andrew walked through the streets of Sunsetville, which sat still in the midday heat. Not a soul walked on the streets; it was quiet time, as Nick had informed him. Andrew’s Spanish teacher, Senorita Katrina, would’ve called it a siesta. Andrew wandered past Joe Freeman’s bar, and saw the scaffolding-tower that just yesterday had been two levels high. Now it climbed higher than the buildings on the street. Andrew figured the men must have added six or seven floors since yesterday. It was a shoddy structure. The wood that pieced it together was old and splintered, and the tower leaned and swayed in the wind. Yet the gigantic wheels attached to the ground floor promised that it would roll, and roll soon. Andrew didn’t want to be around when it did. He headed for the square.
The Clock Tower loomed high above Andrew, peering down like an ancient stone giant. Andrew felt fear knot up in his stomach. He suddenly wanted to run from these great towers, as he had run from school, and his mother. His gun kept him from running. The ancient revolver weighed heavily on his shorts, reminding him he was in for the long haul. With that thought he was hungry again. He sat down on a wooden crate and pulled out some dried meat.
“A boy without some food in his bag might as well be no boy at all!” Nick’s aunt had insisted at lunch. Andrew had declined, but Margaret Smith would not have it. She’d packed enough ‘dry meat’ in Andrew’s bag for him to eat for a week. Andrew hadn’t wanted it, but Margaret Smith was a persistent woman. After all, she had claimed, she had no use for it.
He chewed on a piece of the dry meat, which Andrew figured was just beef jerky with some spicy seasoning, and threw his bag over his shoulder. He got up out of the shade and walked slowly over toward the foot of the tower. It was good, Andrew figured, that the mob hadn’t shown up yet, with their great tower. They had promised to arrive at 2, and it was nearly 1:30. Andrew sighed, and muttered:
“No time to waste.” He grasped the handle of the wooden door. “Whatever’s up there, I’m coming. Get ready.”
“Not without me, you’re not!” cried a gruff voice behind him, and Andrew knew it was Nick before he turned around.
V
Nick figured Andrew must’ve known he was following him. Gunfighters like Andrew were keen to the land around them, Nick knew. Plus, they just had a way of knowing sometimes. Just like his ma had a way of knowing he’d snuck bread from the pantry, Andrew had a way of knowing.
Andrew didn’t bother acting surprised. Instead, he shook his head. “Nick, you can’t go up there,” he said.
“Mr. Andrew,” Nick returned. “I ain’t afraid of nothing. And I’m still in your services, so I can’t let you go up there alone.” Nick held a fire-poker in his hands, sharp at one end, and Andrew nearly laughed at the boy’s attempt to arm himself.
“In that case,” Andrew said, “if you’re in my service, I forbid you from following me.”
“All right,” Nick said. “I won’t follow. I’ll lead.” He stepped boldly past Andrew and tried to open the door. It didn’t budge. Nick scratched his head. “How are you trying to get in?” he said.
Andrew approached his friend and looked him squarely in the eyes, placing his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Nick,” he said, and Nick immediately straightened. Andrew had a way about him, Nick knew, that could freeze the meanest winds in a dust storm. Now Nick hung his head, sure Andrew would turn him away. This time, he wouldn’t be able to argue. Andrew continued.
“Whatever’s at the top of the tower is dangerous. If you go up with me, you must promise me you’ll let me face it. Remember, I’ve got the gun. I don’t think your fire poker’s going to do the trick.”
Nick reddened a bit in the face. “Well, of course sir. I was just improvisin’, you see.” Andrew grinned, and patted his friend on the back.
“Come on, follow me.” Andrew said. With that, Andrew turned to the door. Nick watched silently. Andrew grasped the door handle, took a deep breath, and turned it. It did not budge.
“Oh,” Andrew said. It was silent for another moment. He tried turning it the other way, but to no avail. The door was sealed after all.
“I told you it was sealed!” Nick cried behind him. Andrew stood by the door a minute, concentrating. Then he let go.
“I figured it would open,” he said. “The door in the grove did.”
“Maybe this one’s not meant to be opened,” Nick offered. Andrew didn’t buy it.
“There’s got to be a way into the tower,” Andrew said.
“Well, sure there is,” Nick said. “Through the sewers. There’s a basement entrance.” Andrew turned sharply to look at his friend. Nick raised his eyebrows.
“I found it a couple of weeks ago, it’s sort of hidden and secret. But the tower basement’s real creepy, and the sewer smells… I didn’t stay down there too long.” Andrew looked around and found a manhole. He walked over to it, then looked back at Nick.
“We’re going down there?” Nick said. Andrew said nothing, but began to lift off the manhole cover. Nick sighed. “Yes, yes we are.”
VI
The stench was bad at sunset the previous day. It was absolutely horrid at midday. The choking waft of dry feces was nearly enough to send them back. They pressed on instead. The dark, sticky passageway was illuminated by light streaming in through the sewer grates, but as the two boys wandered deeper into the sewers it grew darker.
“How far to go, Nick?” asked Andrew at one point, his voice cracking a bit. Nick did his best to sound brave.
“Not too far, I don’t think. The tunnels are just sort of turn-ey down ‘ere in the center of town, like a maze.”
They were in the midst of making a right turn when Nick froze. Thankfully there was faint light behind them so Andrew could see Nick stop, otherwise they would have ended up falling over one another. Immediately Andrew saw why Nick had stopped; voices were audible up ahead. Or, rather, one voice was audible. Andrew put a finger to his lips and listened in.
At first Andrew couldn’t quite make out what the voice was, but eventually, as the voice approached them he heard words. A shadow drew near to them, the shadow of the person talking, projected onto the wall in front of them. A hunched shadow danced on the wall in the fleeting light. Andrew tensed up as the voice approached, and it was an eerie one: high and wavering, as if it were floating on an icy wind.
“Race now, race through these dark corridors just as fast as you can! Find the door, for I know it’s here! The door, the door, the door, the door! Find the door, the door to the new place,
