Scott took his bag into the bathroom, relieved himself, then stood beneath the rainfall shower. He sighed in pleasure as hot water poured down his body and steamed up the glass around him.
Once he had brushed his teeth and got ready, he went in search of Thomas. Although he could hear people on the ground floor, there was no one outside his door. He carried on going down the corridor until he got to the spiral staircase that led up to Thomas’s living quarters.
Scott knocked on the huge black door at the top before trying the handle and finding it locked. There was no button to press to speak to Thomas or a doorbell to let him know Scott was there.
A single camera pointed down at Scott from the corner of the hall. He waved at it, but nothing happened. Scott sighed and trudged back the way he’d come until he was in the room Thomas had given him for the night.
He stared at the door on the right, the one Thomas had told him not to use, before shrugging and swinging it open. No one jumped out at him, but Scott had picked up his duffel bag to swing at them just in case.
The passage only led one way, and you had to crawl, presumably beneath the windows, to get to the destination. Scott took a deep breath, then got down on his hands and knees.
Fairy lights led the way, red at first before fading into white, then green, then white, then red again. The colours repeated, and Scott felt half hypnotised as he made his way along the length of the house.
At the end of the tunnel, there was enough room to stand up, then a ninety-degree turn, followed by a narrow staircase. Scott had made it too far to turn back, and he kept going until he knew he was on Thomas’s floor, crawling through the walls. Another tunnel, then enough space to stand, then a door. Lights shone around it, the same, red, white and green combination but less intense.
“What’s the worst that could happen?” he murmured before turning the knob and stepping into Thomas’s panic room.
Scott gaped.
There were green lamps in each corner, a huge chandelier with red bulbs hung from the ceiling, and the walls were painted like a rainforest – no – they weren’t walls. They were glass – huge sheets of glass in front of a rainforest. Scott stumbled closer, unable to comprehend. There were trees, and water pouring down a rock face, and mud, and rocks, and moss and vines and a mirror. It gave Scott an idea of the depth of the tank in front of him.
Tank.
It was a tank.
And there, watching him from a branch, was the biggest fucking snake he’d ever seen. Scott launched himself away,tripping over his feet. His arse hit the floor – the fern-leaf painted floor – and he scrambled back on his hands until his head hit something hard.
“Please don’t be another snake,” he whispered, before turning to see what he’d crashed into.
Scott screamed.
Thomas, sat behind him on an armchair that matched the floor, glared.
“Fuck,” Scott spluttered, clutching his chest. “It’s just…too much…snake.”
“I bet you’ve never said that at work.”
“Ha, fucking ha,” Scott replied. He took a moment to get his breath back, then said, “The panic room, the room to panic in. I get it now.”
“I thought it funny.”
Scott hummed, unimpressed. “Well, it’s not. Why is there a tunnel in your house that leads to a pit of vipers?”
“Only two of them are vipers.” Thomas shrugged. “And why not?”
Scott had many answers to that, but none of them materialised.
“Besides, it’s a tunnel out of this room, rather than into it. If someone broke in and tried to steal my collection, I’d need a secret way of getting them out.”
Scott shuddered. “I’m not going to sleep tonight knowing there might be snakes slithering in the walls.”
“Who says I’m going to let you stay another night?”
“How many are there?” Scott asked, deciding he wasn’t ready to ask if he could stay for longer.
“Seven. Virgil, Gordon, Penelope, John, Alan, Lucy and Parker.”
“Your friends,” Scott said, deadpan.
