Chapter 33
I jump down from the ten-foot barbed-wire fence, the earth crunching beneath the heel of my boot, and stare up at the old mine.
I had to tell a couple of white lies and make up an excuse that Ivy needed me to bring her coffee, but as soon as I told Big Dan why I needed to leave, he didn’t hesitate before offering to help me. That’s the thing about Ivy—she’s had everyone in this town smitten with her from the moment she showed up. They’d probably stop the festival just to help me find this list if I asked them to—I’ll have to reserve that as my backup plan.
I pause at the doorway, taking a deep breath to psych myself up before I go inside.
I just need to get in, find the list, and get out. If Ivy’s memory is correct, this shouldn’t take more than a few minutes, and I’ll be back in position at the festival before she even realizes I’m missing.
I step inside, and the darkness envelops me even though it’s daylight outside. Good thing my phone has a flashlight. I wasn’t exactly prepared to come back here today; it was more of a last-minute decision than anything.
Then, when I saw an opening and knew I could count on Big Dan to hold down the fort, I jumped at the opportunity to help.
I promised her I’d find that list, and I have every intention of keeping that promise. She deserves to have that piece of her sister with her when she leaves, and what kind of man would I be if I let her leave here without it … especially since coming here was my idea in the first place?
My light cuts through the darkness as I search the main floor for any glimpse of the list.
It’s got to be around here somewhere.
I make another loop around, searching everywhere I remember Ivy standing. She was so busy checking everything out, opening drawers and digging through old treasures. I think she touched every surface of this place with her curious fingers. After several minutes of searching, I don’t see any trace of it. I glance at the time on my phone, trying to remember what station I’m supposed to be at now.
I’ve already been gone longer than I planned, and the last thing I want to do is mess something up by not being where I need to be. Ivy’s counting on me. This festival means a lot to her, and I don’t think it’s just because of her sister. She thrives with all this planning and coming up with new ideas. She’s a genius with last-minute emergencies and moving schedules around. It’s like her chaotic mind works as her superpower, and she doesn’t even realize it.
The loose wooden boards beneath my feet creak in a loud, high-pitched squeal as I catch sign of a footstep in the dust. I crouch down to a squat to get a better look.
I’d recognize that Converse print anywhere. The girl with wings on her shoes and stars in her eyes.
And it leads straight to a hatch door.
Of course it’d come to this. I don’t know how I could’ve expected it to go any other way.
The last thing I want to do right now is crawl down this hole, where my nightmares were born—especially without Ivy here, giving me a reason to pretend like I’m not afraid—but it’s the only place left to look. If she lost it somewhere in the woods, it’s going to take a whole lot more manpower to find it—which is my backup plan—but I have a very strong feeling that it’s down in that bunker.
I pry open the heavy hatch door, its rusty hinges squealing as I squeeze through the opening. The dank smell of the cave makes my stomach coil, and I do my best to push my fear away. I’m doing this for Ivy, and it’s going to take more than a dark, cramped space to stop me.
Taking a deep breath, I use my phone’s flashlight to illuminate the rusted metal ladder until it disappears into the darkness beneath—my own personal hell.
“Let’s get this over with.”
I lower myself inside, clinging to each rung of the ladder with a steel-like grip as I try to distract myself by counting backward.
The darkness swallows me whole, and the putrid smell grows stronger, triggering all the painful memories that fueled my nightmares as I go deeper inside. Bile rises in my stomach, and I spit, trying to rid myself of the scent. It feels like it’s worse today than it was last time, but maybe that’s because I don’t have Ivy’s comforting scent to distract me.
I cover my nose with the neck of my shirt as I descend the last few feet, breathing a sigh of relief the moment my shoes connect with the earth.
Now, for the fun part.
I suck in a breath to calm my nerves, but the smell’s only growing worse, and the damp, stale air swallows me up, coating my skin like a film. My back brushes against the wall as I maneuver my broad frame through the tight space.
My blood goes cold, and my palms begin to sweat as a fresh wave of fear shoots up my spine.
I’m halfway through the narrow opening, pinned sideways between the tight cave walls, using every panic-attack coping strategy I can conjure from my memory when I hear the haunting squeal of metal hinges, immediately followed by a loud thwack. The noise is so loud that I can feel the vibration through the cavern walls surrounding me.
I don’t have to go back to know that my worst nightmare just came true … yet again.
I’m trapped, with no phone signal, locked in from the outside.