“It’s here,” Tech says, dropping to his knees to start digging it out. His hands move fast, desperate. Could this be it?
I kneel beside him, my hands trembling as I help. The sand sticks between my fingers, clinging to my sweat. Shawn comes in right beside me, scooping out the sand with her forearms. Still, the progress is slow. For each bit of sand we pull out, more comes tumbling in from the sides. Frustrated, I look over at Tech.
“This is going to take too long,” I tell him. “We have to beat the tide.”
“I know, I know,” he agrees, his face serious. Determined. “Let’s just get a few feet down and then I’ll kick it in.”
I dig harder, faster, feeling the sting of sand under my nails. But I keep going. We expose more of the door, but from what I can see, it looks sturdy as hell. Maybe the saltwater has worn it away over time, eaten away at the hinges. It’s entirely possible the door has lost some of its strength by now.
Finally, there’s enough space for us to crawl through, and Tech starts kicking at the door. His sneaker slams against the wood, making me flinch with each loud bang. At first, the door doesn’t budge. Once there is the first crack, Tech adjusts his stance and starts hammering right against the center. His forehead is damp with sweat, and I reach over to swipe the sleeve of my sweatshirt over it before it can drip into his eyes.
“You’re doing great, Tech,” Shawn calls out, playful yet still encouraging. “Just make sure the opening is big enough for my boobs to fit through.”
We all laugh, and then after another few minutes of grunting, Tech moves back to survey his work. The top of the door is broken away, leaving just enough space for us to get through. As I take a quick peek inside, my anxiety starts to spike. The drop below looks at least five feet, maybe more, and it’s pitch-black in there. Not ideal. The only thing that scares me more than heights is complete darkness.
Tech pulls out a flashlight from his backpack and hands it to me, his movements deliberate and determined. Now that we’ve uncovered our first real clue, an abandoned town, it’s time to get serious. Get real. It’s all so tense and exciting at the same time.
Tech takes out a headlamp, arranging it on his forehead before flicking it on. I stifle my laugh.
“Wow,” Shawn says, widening her eyes. “I always forget how cool you are.”
“Then you should pay more attention,” Tech says with a grin. He pauses, then adds, “Also, can you wait here, Shawn? Just in case something happens, we need to make sure we can get back out.”
“Something happens?” I repeat, my heart skipping. “Like what?”
Tech shakes his head as if it’s not a big deal. “Better not to think about it,” he states, before turning and climbing through the jagged opening, disappearing into the dark.
I look at Shawn, absolutely still thinking about it. “What did he mean?” I ask. “What could happen?”
Shawn shrugs. “Gators?”
Widening my eyes, I look at the door, the abyss beyond it. There can’t be actual alligators in there. The door was shut. I mean… right?
When I turn back to Shawn, wanting her reassurance, she’s already on her feet and backing away. She waves her hat in a dramatic farewell. “Don’t worry,” she calls. “While you make the find of the century, I’ll just be out here having no fun at all.”
“At least there aren’t any gators out here,” I call after her. She laughs.
“I was kidding, Noa,” she says, and waits until I nod that I know. “You’ll be fine,” she adds. “Now go and save Cape Hope. I’ll keep an eye on things.”
She blows me a kiss, which I pretend to catch and put in my pocket. Hopefully it’ll bring me luck. I crouch in front of the broken door, thesmell of rotting fish drifting up from the underground space. Uneasy, I turn on my flashlight and angle it inside.
“Come on in,” Tech says from the dark, startling me. “I’ve got you.”
I take a deep breath, ignoring the panic clawing at my insides, and crawl through the hole. Just as I make it inside, Tech takes me by the waist and helps me hop down. My feet splash in ankle-deep, murky water. I wince, trying not to think about what’s floating in it, or what’s hiding under the surface. The smell is worse now, thick and nauseating.
“Gross,” I murmur, and then swing my flashlight around to get a better look.
The beam cuts through the darkness, and I see the peeling walls, crumbling shelves, and a floor that has been underwater for years. Decades. An old office, maybe? Something that required a desk, which is now broken down and rotted. Everything in this place feels abandoned. Forgotten. I’m suddenly very mortal, very small, in a way.
“Any idea what this place was?” I ask quietly. I don’t mean to whisper, but talking too loud seems disrespectful, or worse, like I might disturb something unseen.Someone.
So yeah—maybe I’m more superstitious than I thought.
Tech’s headlamp shines in my direction. “Not yet, but we’ll figure it out,” he says, his voice reassuring. But underneath, I hear the excitement. He’s thrilled. He starts to look through the desk drawers, trying to find any clues.
I roll my eyes at myself, knowing that I’ve been overreacting. Sure, it’s disgusting in here and everything smells like fish guts, but I’m fine. I’m not in danger. There are no gators. No ghosts.
And then I let out a little yelp when my flashlight catches on a shape in the back corner of the room. It takes me a moment to realize it’s a door.
