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“What?” Nathan says, looking around.
“We can’t go in that,” I say as I spin the car around, putting it back into drive.
“What? Why?” he asks, looking around.
“The lock on the door is broken,”
“So?”
“Nathan, I really need you to shut the fuck up and just trust me, please,” I yell.
“Yes ma’am,”
We pull up to the front of the old house. I scramble out of my car and grab my pistol from under my steering wheel.
“Jesus,” Nathan muttered as he gets out of the car and pulls his.
I hold my pistol out and head towards the door. As I approach, I start to take quiet and careful steps. I glance behind me to see Nathan approach the door from the other side.
I get to the door and take out the house’s key and slowly unlock it and gently push it.
I peek through the opening. It’s dark and quiet. I point my gun through the opening and nudge the door open. The cry of the hinges echoed through the house. I stand in the doorway holding my breath, waiting to hear something that’ll let me know we’re not alone. I don’t hear anything. The house looks undisturbed.
“I think we’re good,” I whisper to Nathan as I walk in.
“Why are we here?” he asks as he follows me in.
“There’s an underground tunnel that leads from the basement to the bunker,” I say, walking through the house. The old floors creak as we walk across them.
“It’s so fucking dark in here. How do you know where you’re going?”
“I know this house like the back of my hand,” I say. We get to the basement door. I turn the knob and push it open. Dust and cobwebs fall from the door frame as it opens wider. “I used to sneak out all the time, so I learned my ways through the house when it was dark as fuck so I didn’t wake anyone up with lights,”
I trot down the stairs. Now I defiantly need a light. I grab my phone from my back pocket and turn on the flashlight. Nathan does the same.
“What are we looking for?” he asks, but I don’t answer. I’m too focused on finding the hatch. Then I see it.
“Here!” I shout, running over to a large chest. I start pushing it, knowing the hatch hides underneath. Nathan comes up beside me and helps me push. The old worn trap door becomes visible after we move the chest.
“Holy shit,” Nathan mutters as he stares down at the ancient door.
I grab the rusted handle on the trapdoor and begin yanking on it. At first, it doesn’t budge, but then it finally gives and cracks open.
The old, rusted hinges on the door crunch and groan as I pull it open. Nathan shines his light into the hole, revealing the wooden ladder that leads down.
“That looks old as fuck,” he says, still staring.
“Yeah, well, this house is hold as fuck so,” I say as I put my foot on the second step of the ladder. I slowly shimmy my foot onto the step until I feel like I have a stable grip.
“How far down is it?” Nathan asks.
“God, you ask so many questions,” I say as I begin my descent into the shaft. “And it’s far”
“Fuck” I hear Nathan mumble. The ladder shakes and creaks as he joins me.
“Holy shit,” Nathan says, out of breath as we make it to the bottom of the shaft.
“I thought you were fine climbing down. You’re a cop and all,” I say, winking at him. He sighs and shakes his head.
