Chapter 10: The Cellar
The front door exploded inward in a shower of splintered wood and frost.
Before the heavy wooden frame even hit the floor, Marcus grabbed Sarah by the collar of her coat and shoved her toward the pantry. He kicked away a woven rug, revealing a heavy iron ring set into the floorboards. With a violent heave, he pulled the trapdoor open.
"Down," Marcus hissed, his rifle raised toward the hallway.
Sarah didn't hesitate. Shielding Zoe’s head with one hand, she scrambled down the wooden ladder into the pitch-black root cellar. The air was frigid and smelled of damp earth and rotting potatoes. Marcus dropped in right behind her, pulling the heavy door shut just as heavy boots thundered into the cabin above them.
The darkness was absolute. Sarah pressed her back against the freezing dirt wall, terrified that the pounding of her heart would give them away. Above, flashlights swept over the floorboards, the beams leaking through the tiny cracks in the wood.
"Clear!" a deep, unfamiliar voice shouted.
"They're not here, Mr. Vance," another voice echoed.
David’s footsteps were distinct—hard, impatient paces across the hardwood. "They didn't just vanish into thin air. Check the perimeter. Find the trapdoor. This place is a cliché."
Marcus leaned in, his lips brushing Sarah’s ear. "Follow the wall to the left," he breathed. "There’s a drainage pipe that empties into the ravine. Crawl through it. When you get out, head dead north up the ridge. I have a snowmobile stashed under a white tarp."
"What about you?" Sarah whispered back, her voice shaking.
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"I’m going to buy you a head start."
Marcus shoved a flashlight into her hand. Before she could protest, he turned back toward the ladder, raising his rifle. Sarah bit her lip, tasting blood, and turned away. She felt her way along the freezing dirt until her hand met the corrugated steel of the drainage pipe. It was barely wide enough for her shoulders. Praying Zoe wouldn't wake up and cry, Sarah got on her hands and knees and crawled into the dark.
