“That’s not a good look for you.”
“Shut up. I found something out about the slaughterhouse. It’s a surprise.”
Like the power plant, the slaughterhouse had been the subject of debate for years; Chris’s father had been one of the people leading the charge to have it torn down. There was a vocal group in town who argued for preserving it somehow. It dated back to the 1880’s and nearly everyone in town had a relative who’d worked there in the hundred years of its existence.
Chris didn’t know why you’d want to preserve buildings that still carried a faint whiff of blood and shit, but people got crazy about historic preservation.
There were a series of massive brick buildings at the center of the property. There were metal chutes leading into the building, the death walk for thousands of cattle. Rotting fences had formed the animal pens, and those seem to go on forever. A six-foot fence surrounded the entire property.
“Creepy, right?” Hope whispered, taking the pack off of her shoulder. She unzipped it and took out two flashlights, one red, one blue. She handed Chris the blue one.
He clicked it on. They crossed the parking lot and reached the fence.
“There’s a section cut in the fence,” Hope said.
“Thought you were never up here,” he said.
“Well, I checked it out. You didn’t think I’d stay completely away, did you?” Hope said.
Hope felt around the fence and pulled back a section where the fence had been cut. She peeled it back far enough for them to slip through. She went first, sliding in sideways, and Chris followed.
They approached the first building, walking parallel to one of the cattle chutes. Someone had dumped some old tires in one of them.
Hope hopped over the half wall and dropped into the chute.
“Hey. Be careful,” Chris said.
“Quit worrying, old lady.”
She followed the chute, and before she could get too far, Chris hopped over and dropped down. The place was creepy, and he imagined how the animals must’ve felt going to their doom, where they’d be smashed over the head or have their throats cut. “Where’s this go?”
“The door where the cattle went in is covered with loose plywood. Jonah White told me that. He comes up here to smoke weed,” Hope said.
“White’s a burnout. Hope he’s right.”
They came to the piece of plywood and Hope set her flashlight down. She wiggled her fingers between the brick and the plywood, gave it a tug. “Help me, huh?”
Chris set his flashlight down as well. He gripped the plywood and pulled. It came loose without much of a struggle. The chute had been cut away to allow the plywood to cover the opening.
Chris picked his flashlight up and shined it inside. The chute continued beyond the wall, a dormant conveyor belt on the floor. They followed it and at the end, climbed through an opening. Chris looked around and saw huge machines. There were hooks hanging on chains overhead. The floor was stained with brownish remnants of blood.
“I know they were animals, but this is kinda creepy,” Chris said.
Hope said, “They used to have guys spraying the floor with hoses. My grandfather worked here before the war. Some days they couldn’t keep up with the blood.”
“Nasty.”
“Think of that next time you have a burger,” Hope said.
“I will, then I’ll have a second burger.”
“C’mon, I think I know where I’m going.”
He followed Hope across the killing floor and they found a metal stairwell surrounded by iron railings. A chain was draped across, as if that would keep out explorers. Hope ducked under the chain and it swung, squeaking in the empty building.
“Do you think you should go down there?”
“Where’s your sense of adventure?” she said.
He shook his head. There was no changing Hope’s mind once she was set on something. “At least tell me what we’re looking for.”
“A tunnel. My grandfather mentioned it. The workers weren’t allowed to go near it, but it’s there.”
She descended into the darkness, her flashlight bobbing. He ducked under the chain and followed her down the steps. His skin broke into goosebumps. He was cold, but it also felt like a hundred spiders were dancing up his spine.
They came to a landing, turned, and descended a second set of stairs.
A grease-smudged sign on the wall read: AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY.
They followed a long corridor. Overhead were pipes and wires, spider and cobwebs crisscrossing between them. He saw more than his share of dead rats. And a dead cat, its pink guts exposed and glistening.
Hope made a few turns and they ended up in a room with a large boiler at the center. He swung the beam around the room and saw something piled in the corner. It looked like old rags and as he drew closer, Chris realized they were clothes. There was a pair of men’s running shorts and an Under Armour t-shirt.
They were wet and dark. Along with the running gear were two more t-shirts. One of them said Star Wars on it. They, too were wet. He spotted liquid pooling on the floor beneath the clothes; it was blood. No doubt.
“Hope, we need to get the fuck out of here,” Chris said.
“What’s wrong? Look! I found the door,” she said.
“There’s bloody clothes over here.”
He heard rapping on a steel door. He wished she’d quit screwing around. This was serious.
“I hear something on the other side,” Hope said.
“Come here and see this.”
A moment later, she appeared at his side and put her beam on the bloodied clothes. The sparkle that had been in her eye turned into a flat glaze. “Omigod, they’re soaked with blood.”
“I told you,” Chris said. “What’s on the other side of the door?”
“I thought I heard footsteps from behind the
