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from where it was embedded in the wall and carried both back to the spot with him.
A few minutes later, Kiley arrived at his side. She had found another crowbar and knelt on the basement
floor beside him. "Are you really okay?"
"Yeah. I'll be a little sore, but nothing serious." He was jamming the flat end of the bar into the crack,
moving it back and forth. The crack grew wider with every movement.
She did what he was doing, working in the other direction, and they made their way around the entire
rectangle. She said, "You have a little blood on your face."
"A few of the boards landed on me when the stairs collapsed."
She pursed her lips, frowning hard. He smiled at her. "It does my ego a world of good to know you
care, Kiley."
"It's not by choice, Jack."
The edge he was prying rose up a little. "Here, quick, get your bar over here," he said. Kiley hurried to
his side and jammed her bar underneath, helping him pry the slab of concrete upward. Jack dropped his
own bar, gripping the edge with his hands, pushing and lifting. Kiley used her bar to help him, until finally
they managed to overturn the slab. It hit the floor and split into several pieces.
Jack looked at Kiley and she licked her lips as if she was nervous before handing him the shovel. He
eyed the dirt, began scraping it aside with the shovel blade, felt something underneath. "It's shallow," he
said.
She nodded. "It's cold again. Hell, Jack, I can see your breath." She rubbed her arms. "We must be
close."
He nodded and continued scraping away the soil, revealing a square of metal, two feet by two feet.
"What is it? A box, is it some kind of box, Jack?"
He ran his hands over the thing, tracing its edges. "I feel& hinges." He lifted his gaze to meet hers.
"Jesus, Kiley, I think it's some kind of a& a door."
"A door?"
He nodded.
"A door to what?"
Goddamn good question. The word hell popped into his mind, but he decided not to share that with her.
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CHAPTER TWELVE
"Jack, I'm afraid." For once Kiley didn't mind admitting it, as she stood there staring down into
pitch-black darkness.
"Me, too."
"I think it's time we call the police. Don't you?"
He shrugged. "No proof a crime's been committed." He glanced down into the darkness. "Though I'd
bet the farm on it."
She gripped his arm, as if she could convince him by squeezing her words into him. "Let's at least try. If
the police won't come out here, then we'll do it ourselves."
He tipped his head to one side, started to speak, but then seemed to decide against it.
"Come on, Jack. We'll call the police, we'll do it right now."
He nodded, so she tugged him away from that inky maw and toward the shallow concrete steps that led
up out of the cellar to an angled hatchway door. She pressed her palms to it, to push it open. But it
wouldn't budge. "Hell, I know it's not locked. I thought I left it wide open, but " She pushed again.
Jack said, "I was afraid of something like this."
She frowned at him, then she understood. "They won't let us out, will they? Not even if it's to tell their
story?"
"They don't trust us, Kiley. What's to stop us from getting out of here and running like hell? Never
looking back? God knows that's what everyone else who's lived here has done."
She licked her lips, and turned slowly to face the now-open metal trapdoor in the floor. "I don't want to
go down there, Jack."
"I know, honey. I know. Neither do I."
"Do we even have a light?"
"Yeah." He pulled a flashlight from somewhere. "I remembered about the lights going out before.
Brought backup."
"Good thinking."
He drew a breath. "Stay up here, kid. As close to the hatchway door as you can."
She shook her head. "I'm more afraid to be here alone than I am to go down there with you. We do this
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together."
"If you're sure& "
She gave a firm nod.
"Okay, then." He put her behind him, drawing her hands to his waist just above his hips, and she knew it
was because there wasn't enough room for them to go side by side down the concrete steps that led
deep into the earth. "Stay close."
"No problem there," she said.
He flicked on the flashlight, holding it in front of them as they moved slowly down the steep, narrow
stairs. He kept his free hand over one of hers on his waist. The darkness closed in around them. She
knew there was light behind her from the cellar, but without turning she couldn't see it. And knowing it
was there wasn't nearly reassuring enough. Feeling Jack's warmth suffusing her hand helped more. But it
didn't dispel the chill of foreboding that gripped her more thoroughly with every step. It was more than
blinding darkness that surrounded her. It was physical, real. It hugged her with cold dampness. She
smelled it dank and sour. She tasted its bitter, stale, putrid air. She even heard it, containing and
muffling every sound.
"God, there's a smell."
"I know."
At the bottom of the stairs, the floor leveled off. Concrete, perfectly rectangular, just tall enough for an
adult to walk upright, and only wide enough for one to pass through. Jack's shoulders brushed the walls if
he leaned even slightly to one side or the other. It was a concrete tunnel, with only the occasional
cobweb blocking the way.
And at its end, the darkness widened.
Jack paused, shining the flashlight's beam around. "It's a room, I think." He traced three walls, then
examined the fourth, the one with the doorway in which they stood. "I don't see any other exits. This is
the only way in."
"Or out," she whispered. "Jack, do you feel that? We're not alone."
He pulled her up beside him, now that there was room to stand two abreast, sliding an arm around her
and holding her close, even as he moved the flashlight beam around the room again, lower this time,
tracing the floor from end to end. The light beam stopped when it hit the body.
Kiley yelped and turned her head into Jack's chest. But then she forced herself to look again. Trembling,
straining against her own will to turn her head once more, she looked.
The darkly stained bones and leather like flesh slumped against the wall. Tangled blond hair clung in
patches to the skull.
"There are chains," Jack said. "Look."
She followed the beam of light to the manacles on the wrists and the chains mounted to the walls behind. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]