There it was again.“That.”
This time when I pointed it out, his forehead furrowed. “What the fuck is that?”
That’s what I was saying.
We both stood there listening as the sound quietly echoed again.
Tink, tink, tink.
It was weird. Like a clanging, tapping sound, with a rhythm to it. Three quick taps followed by three long, then…
Tick, tick, tick.
Was that morse code? I really should’ve paid more attention in Boy Scouts. The sound was quiet, like it was coming from far away. No, not far away.
My eyes fell to the wooden floor. “Do you have a basement in here?”
“No.” Sean looked around as the taps came again. “At least, I don’t think so?”
We stared at each other for a second, then went about searching the shed. It didn’t take too long for us to pick up on the fact that every time the sound came, the light flickered. So we followed the cord to a hole in the floor under one of the shelves. And that hole turned out to be a trapdoor that led to a set of wooden stairs.
Sean and I exchanged a look before we headed down.
There were a lot of things I thought I might find in a secret hole in the ground at the Callaghan estate. Blood, a piece of Tico’s clothing, or a furnace – Ned had to clean up after himself somewhere. Hell, I wouldn’t have been surprised to find this place as nothing more than a wine cellar. Dean Whitley’s Mike Brady smile was the last thing I expected to see at the bottom of those stairs.
“Hello Mase. What are you doing here?”
My eyes roamed over the large cage he was in, to the twisted and malformed way his left arm hung. “What are you doing here?”
“Not sure where here is?” Dean lifted his good arm and tapped his chin – which was covered in blood that I assumed came from the cut under his eye. “Are we still in Ashen Springs?”
“Yeah?”
Sean climbed down the last step, then promptly hunched over and threw up. Can’t say I blamed him. Dean was beyond fucked up. There was a deep cut across the left side of his head, bruises covered his face, while dried blood caked his tattered clothes.
“Are you okay?” Given the circumstances, it seemed kinda stupid to ask that question, but the fucker was smiling like he was going for a walk in the park.
“Now that you mention it, I could use a glass of water.”
Water? Really? That’s what he was going to ask for?
“How about we get you out of here first?”
Dean clicked his tongue while wagging his finger. “I always knew you were a smart one.”
“Thanks?” I said, not knowing how else to respond.
The smile on Dean’s face widened. “You’re welcome.”
Right?
“Well,” I shook my head and blew out a breath. “If you’ll tell me where the keys are…”
“Oh,” Dean grimaced. “You didn’t take care of Nate.”
Who the fuck was Nate?
The door being slammed shut vibrated through the room. My brain barely had time to register that before a soft hiss wafted in, along with a smoky cloud.
