Dirk wasn’t about to tell him about the two weeks’ notice, but he did say, “It’s the tour. I feel like I’ve bought a ticket. I really do. I think one of the tours today will be the one I remember most…down the road…years from now. You know what I mean?”

The guy shrugged. “No. I honestly have no idea what you mean. But that’s why we love you, Dirk.”

Dirk hadn’t thought about it before he said it but he did feel like a tourist. Everything even smelled different.

He finished eating and knew that half of his last day was already over. It wasn’t even the act of quitting so much. It was much more than that. Like he was doing something he wouldn’t ordinarily do. But that wasn’t quite right. And there was something else, too. Something that jabbed a little at his brain as he was washing his hands in the bathroom. Something about the night before. Something that happened. Maybe something while he was sleeping…

15

The moment Dirk enters the corridor he’s nervous. He’s sure that his abdomen feels heavier, that his feet are more flat than even when he was standing on the bench. He starts down the hall anyway, guided by the light of the lamppost head. Every time he looks forward he feels the walls are too close, that he and the children won’t be able to fit through the farthest point he can see. But once they make it there he discovers that they can.

My eyes, Dirk thinks. Something is screwing with my eyes.

There are many sounds in here. Scratching sounds. Feet on gravel. A hoarse throat perhaps. Dirk keeps thinking that it’s one of the children, clawing at the walls. Trying to get out. But when he turns around he sees they are following him. That is all.

Aren’t you going to tell us anything? a girl asks.

What do you want to know about?

I wanna see the blood, the girl says. I wanna take some home with me.

The children cry out with excitement but it sounds like fear, too, and Dirk looks deeper into the stone corridor, white dust and webbing everywhere.

There are other sounds, too. Scurrying sounds. Something wet ahead. Something slithering across the path just out of reach of their sphere of light. Dirk is frightened. But the fog is pressing against the closed wooden door behind them. He knows this, and going back into it would be bad. Awful maybe.

Look! a child yells.

Dirk blinks and sees something small huddled against the right wall ahead of them. He stops and holds out his arm to block the children from continuing.

What is it? a boy whispers.

He doesn’t know what it is. None of them do. But it is huddled and maybe beneath a hood. It is facing the other way. Facing farther down the hall. Dirk steps forward. He can feel the heaviness of his body, he can feel the heat of his nerves as they burn, too.