“You’re going in the hole?” Amber asked. “That’s ridiculous.”
Even as she said it, she realized that she wanted to know what was down there.
“Wait,” Ricky said. “What did you mean about it working either way?”
“Well, I figure that they’re not even here. They tried to get the Harpers the night before last, and then last night they probably returned to look for them again or maybe try to find us. I don’t imagine that they had enough time to get back here.”
“It doesn’t seem like they’re here,” Amber said.
“So, worst case scenario I figure they left behind a sentry or something. If I get down there and it’s empty then I set up the mirrors. If there’s a sentry, then I kill it and poison this location. It works either way.”
“Works to do what? Get yourself killed?” Ricky asked.
“No, works to put them on their heels. Or just him, maybe. I’m guessing this all stems from SE Prescott. We get him on his heels and we’re in the driver’s seat.”
“You jump to the conclusion that everything revolves around a creature that has survived for a hundred and forty years, and then you think it will be easy to put him on his heels? Don’t you think something that old is pretty crafty about survival?” Ricky asked.
“I can’t imagine that many people have come after him,” George said. “It requires too many logical leaps that most people are unwilling or unable to achieve.”
“For good reason,” Ricky said. “Right?”
“Like I said,” Amber said, “it’s ridiculous. I don’t mean that going in the hole is a bad idea—it’s just ridiculous that we would send one person in alone. Two of us are going and one is staying up here with the satellite messenger in case something goes wrong.”
“Okay,” George said.
“Yeah,” Ricky said with a sigh, “but it only makes sense that the two people with experience are going in. George, you’re staying up here.”
“No,” George said. “It was my idea.”
“You’re outvoted,” Amber said. She put the satellite messenger in his hands.
George looked at it for a couple of seconds before he accepted his fate. Amber picked up the rope and tested her weight against it. From her bag, she produced a headlamp. It didn’t penetrate very far into the hole before the light was swallowed by the shadows. She could only hope that once her eyes adjusted it would be enough.
“Wait,” George said. He found another coil of rope and tied it around the mounting wire of one of the mirrors. He lowered it carefully into the hole. Ricky pulled out a flashlight and watched its descent. Amber turned on one of her small lights and stuck it in her front pocket for easy access.
She took a deep breath and looked back at the hole.
Rick picked up the rope between Amber and the hole. He lifted it and then let it go slack again.
“It’s touching the bottom down there. Won’t be too far. You want me to go first?”
Amber shook her head.
“I’ll be right behind you then.”
“Good.”
# # #
Amber felt his weight on the rope just before sand and a little dirt rained down from above. She positioned a hand above her headlamp to protect her eyes and crouched down as she pointed her flashlight and her wooden spear down the passage.
It started small but then looked like it opened up a few paces in.
Ricky landed on the floor next to her. He pulled his own stake out from where he had tucked it into his belt.
He flicked to rope to tell George that they were down safely.
When Amber began to move down the passage, Ricky put a hand on her shoulder and shook his head. He pointed to himself to tell her that it was his turn.
After ducking through the opening, Ricky was able to get to his knees. Amber slid the mirror in after him and he pushed it out in front of himself.
He made his way forward slowly, pushing the mirror with one hand and gripping his stake and the flashlight with the other.
Amber followed.
The passage was almost perfectly round and the dirt of the walls was so smooth that it almost looked polished. Roots that penetrated into the passage had been cut off. On her right, amber saw a rock that had been pressed flat into the wall. She thought about the stone walls out in the woods. According to Alan, they had been created by pushing all the rocks to the permitter of a pasture. It looked to Amber like this passage had been made in a similar way. It hadn’t been dug—the dirt had just been compacted in every direction to make the space.
Ricky gestured back to her and Amber leaned to the side to see around him. There was a small hole—maybe a foot across—in the ceiling of the passage in front of him. She saw tattered, dirt-colored cloth around the edges of the hole. When Ricky repositioned his light, Amber looked up into it, and she saw a grinning skull looking back at her. Her breath caught in her throat and it felt like ice water was flushed through her veins.
“The wife?” Ricky whispered.
For a moment, the words didn’t make sense. Amber realized which direction the passage was leading—directly below the graves of the family. They were looking at the remains of Mrs. Prescott.
Ricky ducked low to move below the exposed corner of the casket. He pushed the mirror in front of him and crawled. Amber didn’t want to point her light up into the casket and see the skeleton up close, but there was something about the…
Amber reached forward and grabbed Ricky’s ankle.
He gasped and turned to see that it was her.
Amber put a finger to her lips and then pointed up at the hole.
Through just that gesture, she communicated the realization to him. Ricky’s eyes went wide and he slowly nodded. Amber pointed past him to the mirror until he seemed to understand what she was getting at. He
