Andrew checked his watch, then walked toward the end of the corridor and picked up a large standing candelabra. He returned with it and jerked his head to the side. “Step back.”
I moved away several feet. “What are?—”
The church bells thundered, and he swung the candelabra wide and hit the stone right in the center, across Jorge’s name. My heart jumped to my throat. The loud bang racketed from wall to wall and in my ears. And he’d complained about my shoes? The man had lost his mind.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I whisper-yelled at him. “What if someone hears us?”
The bells rang again, and Andrew swung and landed another hard whack. I turned to see if anybody was running in our direction.
After another hit, the stone gave way, and a small opening appeared. Andrew grinned and brought one last good blow to the wall as the bells tolled a fourth time. A large piece of the crypt fell, landing next to his feet. He lowered the candelabra and tore the rest of the pieces with his hands, creating a considerable opening.
Out of his front pocket, he fished out a small flashlight and peered inside the hole. “That’s what I thought.”
“What is it?” My heart hammered just as loud as the racket Andrew had created seconds ago. I inched closer to him, but his massive shoulders blocked my view. A new draught wheezed around us, its ghostly fingers pulling on my loose hair strands.
He straightened his back, and his lips curved into a sly smile. “Do you know what happens next?”
“We go to prison?” I hissed at him.
Andrew harrumphed. “I hope you don’t mind skinny bald guys with a toothy smile.”
I drew my eyebrows together. Had he lost his marbles?
He gave me a sideway glance, then stepped away. “Ladies first.”
What the hell was he talking about?
He motioned with his hand to the hole.
No. No freaking way.
Eyes wide, I backed away until my back pressed against an opposite crypt wall. A chill ran down my spine, either from the cold touch of a stone or the thought of…
“You aren’t suggesting what I think you’re suggesting. Crawl inside of that?”
“There’s an opening on the other side. It’s a passage.”
“Passage to where?”
“The only way to find out is to…” He pointed the flashlight at the hole and made a low whistle. “If I go first, you’ll never follow me. So, you go first, and I follow.”
He is a lunatic.
“I didn’t sign up for this.”
“Yes, you did, when you agreed to come with me.”
A good whack with that candelabra on his head would serve him right, if I could manage to lift it. I exhaled sharply as I slipped my wedges back on. I stepped towards Andrew, so close his body heat radiated through my clothes. Andrew was too tall for me to stare him squarely in the eye, even in my three-inch heels, so I shot a peeved glare up at him, pressing my finger into his hard chest. His stupid grin fell, leaving only that permanent smirk tugging at his lips.
“I don’t like you at all.” I yanked the flashlight out of his hand and leaned in to check out the black gap.
night·mar·ish | 'nit?meriSH |
ADJECTIVE: The next disturbing and bothersome minutes crawling through a dark crypt over a skeleton while not dying to do it and wishing you had a few or five tequila shots beforehand.
ORIGIN: Iglesia San Antonio.
The crypt was deeper than I thought. I didn’t know what I’d imagined, but this one was at least ten feet long. On the opposite side from me, there was an opening, but I had to creep over a dead guy covered in ancient dust and cobwebs. I wasn’t afraid of bones. Life was full of alive people that I had to worry about every day, so I didn’t believe the dead could haunt or hurt me. But still. It was beyond creepy. And disrespectful.
