Chapter 48
STEPHEN
With Barney nearby, eyes wide and panting, Stephen kneels on the floor, inspecting the trapdoor and the second padlock.
This one is trickier, needing a combination to open rather than a key, so his trusty thin wire won’t be of much use this time.
He thinks for a moment before pulling out the note he found on Frank Hammel’s body.
There are four numbers left over from the grid reference. He enters each one slowly, ensuring the dials are lined up. The padlock clicks open. Graham reaches over, helping him lift the heavy trapdoor. Graham takes the padlock and slips it into his pocket.
Barney barks, but doesn’t attempt to jump into the hole they’ve uncovered. He whines and lays down, staring at it intently.
Stephen’s heart almost stops as he peers into the darkness below. The mind-numbing fear he once had threatens to unleash itself once again. Being outside in the dark is one thing, but climbing down into a hole beneath the earth is quite another.
Graham seems to sense his hesitation. ‘I don’t expect you to climb down there. Not if you’re not feeling up for it.’
Stephen shines his phone light into the hole. ‘For once, I’d like nothing better than to stay behind, but I’m afraid my conscience just won’t allow it.’
‘Fair enough.’ Graham turns to the dog. ‘Sorry, old boy. You’re going to have to wait up here.’ Barney barks in response, but doesn’t move from his spot. Graham takes a look inside the deep pit. ‘Looks like there’s a ladder attached to the inside wall.’
‘How old do you reckon this tunnel is?’
‘Hard to say, but my bet is that this building was built over the top of it to conceal it once upon a time. It could be hundreds of years old, but the ladder looks fairly new.’
They both raise their eyes to meet the other’s. They don’t need to speak another word to understand, but the prospect of what they might find down in the dark is one that’s overriding any apprehension or fear they may have.
After Graham’s inspected the ladder, convinced it’s strong enough to support their weight, he manoeuvres himself into position, turning his back to the hole. Stephen watches as his head disappears and waits several seconds before peering down after him.
The darkness has already swallowed Graham whole.
Stephen attempts to dislodge a lump in his throat by swallowing, but his mouth is like sandpaper.
None of his bodily functions seem to be working the way they’re supposed to.
His lungs, for one thing, appear to have forgotten how to inhale oxygen.
Either that, or all the oxygen has been sucked from the room.
‘All good down there, Graham?’ he calls out, unable to stand the silence for another second.
‘Just about,’ comes the reply. Gosh, it sounds as if Graham is miles away already.
Stephen glances over at the dog. ‘Fancy swapping places?’ Barney whines in response. ‘Didn’t think so. Well … here goes nothing.’
Stephen sucks in a rattly breath and holds it as he positions his body over the ladder, facing it, the way Graham had done. As he descends, his brain does its best to force him to return to the light, to the surface where it’s safe, telling him all sorts of horrible lies.
There could be bugs the size of dogs down here.
If you fall, you’ll die.
What if the trapdoor blows shut? You'll be trapped down here forever.
Down here in the darkness is where the demons live …
‘Stop it,’ he growls to himself.
‘What was that, Stephen?’ comes a voice from below.
‘Nothing, Graham.’
Stephen continues down the ladder, pushing his inner demons to one side, ensuring he always keeps three points of contact.
Halfway down, his right knee clicks and threatens to buckle.
He slips, grasping the sides of the ladder in time.
His palms are sweaty as he clings to the metal bars for dear life.
If you fall now, you’ll probably only break your legs.
He closes his eyes and counts to ten, then continues. And there he was, thinking he’d conquered his fear of the dark.
Stephen touches solid ground a few moments later, landing next to Graham who has switched on his phone torch. He scans the small area around them, hardly enough space to do a full turn on the spot without bumping into each other.
A dark tunnel leads off to the east.
Graham’s phone torch grows dimmer, then dies completely. The darkness that follows is so thick that Stephen almost chokes on it as he scrambles around in his pocket for his own phone, which he’d pocketed to allow him to climb down the ladder.
‘How much battery do you have left?’ asks Graham.
Stephen checks. ‘Not enough.’
‘Then let’s move fast.’
Stephen turns and directs the beam of light into the darkness ahead.
Despite their need to be hasty, he is forced to keep his pace slow, because the earthy, damp tunnel is so dark, cramped and low that he’s at risk of injuring himself.
The tunnel twists and turns, making it seem much further than it probably is.
Luckily, there doesn’t appear to be any different choices in direction to take, so Stephen continues onwards, safe in the knowledge that his old friend is close behind him rather than any lingering demons.
After several minutes, he stops in his tracks.
‘Something the matter?’ asks Graham.
‘I’m not sure … I thought I heard something.’
Both men stand in silence, holding their breaths. ‘You’re right. I hear it too,’ says Graham. ‘Someone’s down here with us …’
That short sentence is enough to make Stephen’s stomach perform a flip. It certainly sounds like footsteps; a dull thud, thud, thud, but it isn’t coming from behind them. It’s ahead of them.
Creeping forwards, Stephen keeps the beam directed at the ground, so he doesn’t blind anyone or make it obvious he’s approaching. The light is bouncing off the dark walls, casting eerie shadows.
As he rounds the next corner, he walks straight into a blockade of iron bars.
‘Bloody hell,’ he mutters. ‘What is this?’
Graham joins him at his side. ‘An underground prison by the looks of it.’
Stephen can’t fault his guess. It’s exactly what it looks like. He grabs the bars and shakes them, feeling for any loose ones, but they are solid iron.
‘Hello?’ he calls out into the darkness beyond the bars.
The sound of approaching footsteps make him gulp back another lump in his throat, one that causes his eyes to water as he attempts to take a breath.
‘Who’s there?’ comes a small, female voice.
Stephen raises his phone light as a young woman steps into view. Her clothes are stained with dirt, shabby and hanging off her. As the light illuminates her face, she shrieks and raises both her hands to cover her eyes.
Stephen lowers his phone, quickly putting his hand over it. ‘My apologies,’ he says to the woman. ‘My name is Stephen Mallow and this is Graham Williams.’ He pauses. ‘You must be Sophia Hammel.’
The woman coughs and lowers her hand from her eyes. ‘Y-Yes. Oh my God. Are you here to rescue me?’
‘I suppose we are.’
Sophia shuffles forwards and stops when she reaches the bars.
Stephen keeps the beam off her face, but even the residual light is enough to make out her features.
The poor girl is skin and bone, her face pale, gaunt, but still holds the delicacy of youth.
He’s sure that underneath the layers of grime and dirt is a beautiful young woman, by now in her mid-twenties.
She’s been down here all this time. No wonder the torch light hurts her eyes.
‘How long have I been down here?’ she asks.
‘Ten years,’ answers Graham.
Sophia shakes her head. ‘That’s impossible.’
‘I’m afraid it’s true. You disappeared ten years ago, almost to the day. Your father has been keeping you locked down here.’
Sophia’s head nods. ‘Yes. He did it to protect us.’
Stephen tilts his head to the side, like a listening dog. ‘Did you say us?’
‘Yes, my mother’s down here too.’