Instead, he said, “Are we sure?”
“Yes,” Ricky said.
George nodded.
Alan opened the door.
When the purple light flooded out from under the stairs, something screeched above Amber and plaster dust rained down on her. She realized that one of them had been clawing its way across the ceiling, trying to sneak up on them. The light had driven it back into the darkness.
“He could be down there,” Alan said.
“I’m counting on it,” Mary said. She slipped past him and Amber heard her feet descending.
Up until that moment, Amber had figured that the door led only to a closet. She hadn’t bought into the idea that there was another staircase that led down to a basement. When Mary disappeared, that doubt was erased.
George followed next.
Ricky brought up the rear of their group. He pulled the door shut behind them.
The light stayed on. Amber realized that she had been absolutely convinced that when the door clicked shut, the lights would go off and they would be trapped in darkness again. The lights were mounted to the ceiling above her. They also glowed from between the treads under their feet—mounted flat against each riser.
“George,” Ricky said, “don’t touch anything.”
At the bottom of the stairs, Mary looked left and right before she headed off to the right. Amber felt trapped on the stairs with walls on either side and people above and below her. There was nowhere to run. When she descended low enough, she glanced into the room on the left. It was a strange combination of pantry and bathroom. There were shelves of dry goods, but also a big sink next to a toilet. The whole space was lit up with bright white light that was almost soothing after all the purple, fuzzy light that had been assaulting her eyes. When she was convinced that there was nothing hiding in the pantry bathroom, Amber turned right and followed George and the others.
Her eyes met Ricky’s and he looked as confused and concerned as she felt.
Turning to her right, Amber saw Mary rush across the floor.
Tucker was more cautious. Ricky ran to catch up with the dog as he made his way to the place under the stairs. There was plenty of light coming from under there, but the way the dog was moving—nose to the floor and tail perfectly still—it was clear that there was something in that space.
Amber followed Mary. An old man was lying fully clothed on a small cot. Amber knew who it must be, but she couldn’t align the attacker from the garage with this feeble man on the cot.
“Be careful, Mary,” Amber said.
“Mom,” George said. He reached out to hold her back as she leaned over Romeo Libby.
“Tucker, hold on,” Ricky was saying to his dog.
Alan seemed to be the only sensible one of the bunch, in Amber’s opinion. He was scanning the perimeter of the room, looking for possible entry points and tracing the wires that supplied the lights with power. Amber joined him at the far wall, where a bank of car batteries sat on shelves.
“Even if they cut the power…” Alan started to say.
“It’s not enough,” Amber said. “They do that tapping thing and they can shut off switches from a distance, or they hypnotize people into doing it for them. We’re not safe, even with all these lights.”
George had joined the conversation.
“The noise,” George said. “That white noise generator I accidentally turned on in the dining room. There are switches all over the place, I’ve seen them. I’m thinking that any of the light switches that look dark brown are actually for turning on the white noise.”
He pointed towards the panel at the bottom of the stairs. “There’s one there.”
“Don’t touch it,” Amber said.
“I wasn’t going to.”
Alan was already headed that direction, but he didn’t reach for the switch. The electrical box was mounted right to a stud, so Alan could follow the wire that led from it. He traced it through to the pantry bathroom. Amber turned at the sound of metal clinking and saw Ricky coaxing another dog out from under the stairs. Tucker was now wagging his tail, trying to engage with the other dog. His enthusiasm was returned slowly.
“I think he’s right,” Alan said, coming back in. “Looks like that switch controls an audio system.”
“You’re sure?” Amber asked.
“It’s not wired to the lights. I’m sure of that,” Alan said.
“Give it a shot then,” Amber said.
Alan flipped the switch and they all looked up at the sound above them. It was muffled by the floor, but they could definitely hear the sound of static up above.
“It works,” George said.
“That remains to be seen,” Alan said.
# # #
“What’s that, Romeo?” Mary asked, raising her voice. “Speak up?”
They gathered around where Mary was kneeling next to Romeo’s cot. Tucker stood at the back of Ricky’s leg, protecting their backs. Albert wormed his way in close to the cot and pressed his head up under Romeo’s hand. The old man’s face softened when he felt the dog’s fur under his fingers.
“You stole my life. He’ll be here soon,” Romeo whispered.
“Who?” Mary asked.
Ricky put a hand on his mother’s shoulder. “Don’t trust him, Mom. He always lies.”
“Romeo, tell us what you’re talking about. If you lie to us, we’ll know.”
Romeo shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut. When he opened them again, a tear ran down one of his wrinkles.
“Prescott is coming. Nothing stops Prescott,” Romeo said. “He’ll bring me back. I’m sorry.”
“Why were you doing their bidding?” Ricky asked. “Don’t try to pretend you’re sorry. You tried to sacrifice us.”
Romeo shut his eyes again and nodded. His face was contorted with pain.
“I did,” he whispered. “They made me do it.”
“Who cares about his regrets,” Alan said. “Romeo, you’ve been helping them all these years—tell us how to get out of here.”
Romeo shook his head. “I can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t?” Ricky asked.
“They’re my brothers and sisters. Marie was my wife. I can’t…” Romeo whispered.
“What’s even wrong
