Broken Wings 2 - Midnight Flight Andrews, C. (books for students to read TXT) 📖

small flame threw a lot more light on the doors than I thought it might. She started the screwdriver and had me turn off the light. I crouched and watched as she worked, moving with such care, I barely heard anything. She put each screw she took out into her pocket.

“We'll fix it when we leave,” she whispered. “That way no one but you and me will know we were down there.”

I nodded.

When all the screws were out, she lifted the hinge carefully and folded it over with great care, barely making a sound.

Then she stepped back. “Ready?”

I wasn't, of course. I could never be ready for this, but then, I thought, we'll go down there and look around. There'll be nothing there and she'll change on the spot, maybe even admit she had made up Posy. The whole thing would finally be over and done. It will be better for both of us. Dr. Foreman will stop questioning me about it and surely congratulate me on helping her cure Gia.

She lifted the door ever so gently and held it open just enough for me to slip in and under.

“Go ahead,” she said. “Flick the lighter so you can watch your step. When you're down far enough to make room for me, I'll come in and close the door softly after us.”

I hesitated and looked up at the dark windows. They were more like mirrors now, reflecting starlight. On the stucco walls, shadows danced almost like savages gleefully watching me do something stupid.

“Go on before someone hears us,” Gia urged. “Go.”

I took a deep breath and snapped the lighter on again. In the glow I could see that the stone steps were chipped and cracked. I saw spiderwebs in every corner, but fortunately, no sign of any snakes. Gia put her hand on my shoulder, pressing me downward. I lowered my head and stepped onto the first step, then turned and slipped under the opened metal door, backing down carefully. I held the lighter up in front of me. My arm was trembling so much that the little flame wavered, but stayed lit.

“Okay,” I said.

“Wait.”

“What?” My heart seemed to thump and come to a stop in anticipation. “Gia? What is it?”

“I think I hear something. Just keep still.”

To my surprise and shock, she lowered the metal door. I didn't move a muscle. The light went out so I had to flick it on again. Then I heard a strange new sound, like a tiny grinding. What was that?

“Gia?”

I stepped up until my head was an inch or so from the metal door.

“Gia, what's happening?”

The grinding continued and then stopped.

“Gia?”

I heard nothing. I waited and listened.

“Gia?” I called more frantically. I pressed on the metal door, but it didn't lift. “What's happening?”

At last I heard her whisper through the crack, “I can't face her. Go on inside yourself and talk to her.”

“What?”

I listened and heard nothing.

“What did you say, Gia? Gia!”

I pushed on the metal door. It moved, but this time the hasp and the lock stopped it from going any farther.

That grinding.

She had put the hinge back, screwed it in. I was locked within. My heart pounded until the blood filled my face and the pounding echoed in my ears. I pushed and pushed, but the metal door didn't budge. It was heavy, too.

I thought about screaming for help, then stopped before I started and thought, how would I explain this to Dr. Foreman now? I hadn't done anything but violated rules. The buddies were sure to pounce on me.

“Gia, please. Let me out. Please,” I begged. “We'll both get into so much trouble if you don't. Please. Hurry.”

I thought I felt something on my ankle and spunaround, losing my balance. Fortunately I caught myself on the side of the concrete before I fell down the remaining steps, but in doing that, I dropped the lighter. I heard it bounce down the steps. Now, in the pitch darkness, I was sweating more from panic than heat. I heard myself whimper.

Slowly, using my foot, I searched each step until I felt something move. I hesitated, waiting to see if it would move again, but under its own power. I touched it, and then, confident it was the lighter, I knelt down in careful increments and felt for it. When I had my hands around it, I permitted myself to breathe again.

I flicked it on.

I had the lighter, but what was I going to do?

I looked at the door at the bottom of the stairs. Maybe it was unlocked and maybe I could make my way through the basement and then upstairs and out the front door of the hacienda without anyone hearing or knowing. It was worth a try. Certainly, I couldn't stay here all night and I didn't want to shout for help if I didn't have to.

I continued down the stairs and turned the door handle, pushing gently on it. The door groaned so I stopped and waited, listening to see if anyone moved about above. There was no sound so I pushed again and the door opened enough for me to slip through. I thought about it again, looked back up the stairs, realized I had no choice, and went into the basement.

It wasn't much of a basement, just a single, long room. I lifted the lighter as if I were imitating the Statue of Liberty or something and turned slowly. There was furniture, a small bed and a dresser. The bed had a light blue pillow and a blanket. Someone had obviously slept there. The pillow was still indented with the shape of her head.

Over to the right of the bed was a small desk, resembling the desks we had sat at when first brought to the orientation room. Instead of a stool, there was a wooden chair. I saw a small lamp on the desk and approached slowly, gazing into the dark depth of the basement. What frightened me the most, of course, was the possibility