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me.
    “Come on, guys,” I whispered. “Into the closet.”
    The darkest place on the darkest night.
    My heart started to pound. I led them into my clothes closet. Even blacker in there than in my room.
    They slipped in beside me. I pulled the door shut.
    I settled back against a pile of T-shirts.
    “This is dark,” Nicky said. “Wow. It can't get any darker.”
    “It's so dark, I can't tell if my eyes are open or closed,” I said.
    “Just make sure they're
open!”
Tara said, giving me a shove.
    “Okay. Everybody, take a deep breath,” I whispered. “I think we've done what Mr. Park said to do. We're in the darkest place on the darkest night.”
    “It has to work,” Tara whispered. “It
has
to!”

16
    I LEANEDAGAINSTTHE shirts and struggled to keep
my eyes open.
    No one said a word.
    We waited … waited. Alert. Watching for a sign that the plan was working.
    I felt Inkweed slide around behind my forehead. I felt him pressing the backs of my eyes.
    Silence.
    More time passed.
    I started to count silently to myself. Slowly. Steadily. When I reached one hundred, I let out a long sigh.
    “It isn't working,” I said. I slammed my fist against the closet wall. “Something is wrong. Let's get out of here.”
    I pushed open the closet door. Nicky and Tara followed me into the room. I clicked on the ceiling light.
    “How can it get any darker?” Nicky asked, scratching his head.
    Tara tugged at her long red plastic earrings.
    She did that whenever she was tense or afraid. She stared at me. “Did you feel anything, Max? Did you feel Inkweed start to come out?”
    I shook my head. “He's in there,” I said, tapping my forehead. “The dark closet didn't do anything to him.”
    “We need something even darker,” Nicky said. He started to pace the room. “What could be darker than a closet?”
    Rain pattered against the window. I knew this had to be the darkest night. We had that part right. We just didn't have the darkest place.
    “How about the basement?” Tara asked.
    Nicky stopped pacing. “Yes! The basement is even darker,” he said.
    “Okay. Good idea,” I whispered.
    I tiptoed out into the hall. My parents were watching TV in their bedroom. Colin was in his room playing a video game.
    We made our way silently down to the basement. I turned off all the lights. We stepped into a corner where there were no windows.
    “This is darker,” I said. “This
has
to work.”
    I settled into an old armchair my dad planned to throw out. Nicky and Tara floated onto the chair arms.
    “Max, do you feel anything?” Tara whispered.
    “Not yet,” I whispered back. “Don't talk anymore. Just wait.”
    I stared into the blackness. It was cold down there. I heard the
drip drip drip
of water in the sink in the laundry room at the other side of the basement. The only sound.
    We waited … waited.
    And once again, I started to drift into sleep. I couldn't help it. I couldn't tell where the darkness ended and I began. I couldn't tell if my eyes were open or shut.
    My head fell forward. I started to sleep.
    A noise startled me awake. I jumped up with a cry. I raised my eyes in time to see the basement door swing open at the top of the stairs. Light poured over us.
    Dad appeared on the landing. He had his bathrobe on and a beer bottle in one hand. “Max? Is that you down there?” he bellowed.
    “Uh … yeah,” I managed to reply.
    He squinted down at me. “It's late. What in blazes are you doing down there?” he boomed.
    “Uh … well…”
    Think fast, Max. Think fast.
    “I'm doing dry laps, Dad,” I said. “You know. Practicing my strokes. Getting ready for the swim team tryout tomorrow.”
    Would he buy that excuse? I held my breath.
    “I'm impressed,” he called down. “Keep up the good work, guy!” He slammed the basement door shut.
    Darkness washed over us again. But not dark enough. The basement wasn't working either.
    Settling back into the armchair, I turned to Nicky and Tara. “Are you still