His dad repositioned himself between Joel and the door and let loose the power of the .50-caliber handgun.
Boom…boom!
Joel wasn’t sure what happened to trying to be quiet, but apparently they weren’t worried about that anymore. The smoke and dust hadn’t cleared yet when his dad sprang into action and kicked the door in.
“Use your pistol inside.” Ben’s parting words were only just audible over the ringing in Joel’s ears from the door breach. Gunner, on the other hand, was overwhelmed with excitement and pulled out of his grip to chase after Ben, who’d already disappeared inside before Joel even had a chance to stand up.
He scrambled to his feet and readied his grandfather’s .45, using the flashlight grip like his dad had shown him. Only use it in short bursts. Joel repeated the rule to himself a few times in his head and thought about what his dad had said. Too much light and he’d make himself a target.
Joel did his best to keep up, but his dad and Gunner were moving aggressively through the interior. These containers were larger than the ones used for the other homes in the camp, and the three on the bottom floor were all open inside, forming one big room for the most part, except for a few dividing walls here and there. Joel was able to catch up when his dad stopped at another set of stairs that he presumed led to the two containers on top.
This was Joel’s first chance to take a good look at the sparsely furnished but cluttered space. There were a few really nice-looking pieces of furniture and a fancy-looking bed, but they seemed out of place compared to the rest of the things. Most of it looked like junk and stuff he’d rather not touch. Overall, it stunk of mildew and smoke. Joel did his best not to bump into anything, but the floor was a minefield of garbage and random stuff.
Realizing he was standing in what must have been the kitchen, he made the mistake of looking around for something they could possibly eat, but he soon regretted it when he noticed a plate of fly-infested leftovers sitting on the counter. The sight was enough to turn his stomach, and it suddenly felt very warm and suffocating inside the dank little shack. The distraction caused him to misstep and kick an empty glass jar across the plywood floor. It took what felt like forever for the jar to stop rolling, all the while making an impossible amount of noise. It was just his luck to kick the jar into the only open section of floor in the place.
“Hey, stay with me. I need you.” Ben made eye contact before starting up the stairs. Joel tried to shake it off and occupy himself with the last opening they had come through; he knew his dad was counting on him to bring up the rear, so he needed to step it up and do his part. How could he expect his dad to include him in more of this type of thing if he couldn’t handle what little bit was asked of him already?
Joel kept an eye on the front door while moving into a position halfway up the steps to the second floor. He stopped when he could see the second-floor space and the lower floor at the same time. Before he could think about joining his dad upstairs, Gunner appeared at the top of the steps. His dad wasn’t far behind and shaking his head.
“Nothing. Nothing of ours, anyway.” Ben’s disappointment was visible. Gunner pushed his way past Joel on the stairs and jumped the last couple of steps to the first floor below. Something had Gunner’s attention, and both Joel and his dad watched as the dog sniffed his way around the room. Gunner didn’t stop moving until he reached a spot along the back wall about halfway across the three-container-wide room.
“What is it, boy?” Joel asked.
Gunner responded by getting even more excited and letting out a few high-pitched cries while dancing around the same spot in the wall. Ben was on it in a split second, and Joel helped him as they cleared away empty wooden crates, the same kind he’d seen all over the camp, some filled with moonshine jars.
The removal of the crates revealed bare rock with a crude wooden door fashioned over an entrance. Ben and Joel stared at it for a moment as if it wasn’t real. But it was, and surprisingly, there was no lock. Not one they could see, anyway. Faint yellow light escaped from the edges of the door. Joel put his eye up to one of the larger cracks and tried to peek past the door. He was surprised at the cool draft of air coming through the crevice, but it felt good on his face. He watched his dad cautiously step up to the door and work his hands around the edges.
“I don’t think it’s locked.” Joel wasn’t sure why his dad was looking for a key; it was just a flimsy plywood door, much less sturdy than the one they had just kicked in.
Ben continued searching the perimeter of the opening. “I’m making sure it isn’t rigged.”
That was something Joel hadn’t even considered before now. He had a lot to learn yet, and sometimes it was painfully obvious, even to him.
“You follow with Gunner and watch behind us,” Ben instructed. The sliver of light at the bottom edge of the door grew as Ben pulled the wooden panel back from the opening. Joel wasn’t sure what he expected, but it definitely wasn’t a long, poorly lit tunnel carved into the rock. A string of lightbulbs, half of them burned out, ran along the ceiling and disappeared as they
