And Then She Was Gone(68)
The flashlight blinked twice and shut off.
Jack chuckled nervously.
“Jack.” Chandler’s voice was low and strained. “If this is a joke, I’m going to kill you. Turn the flashlight on.”
“The batteries are dying. Calm down.”
Jack could hear Chandler breathing harder. “Shake the flashlight!”
Jack shook the flashlight and tapped the side with his hand. It lit for one brief moment, but then they were plunged into darkness again.
“Crap!” Chandler’s voice rose.
“It’s okay,” said Jack. “We’ll just feel our way back up.”
From somewhere in the darkness, a man’s voice growled.
Jack’s heart thumped in his chest. Chandler sucked in a breath and held it.
The door at the top of the stairs closed with a loud clang.
19
I’m Looking
Footsteps descended the metal stairs. Jack moved blindly in the dark toward the wall.
“Stop!” yelled a man’s voice.
Jack froze, but only for a second. He tried to calm his breathing as he snuck toward the wall again. “I just wanted to ask you a question,” he said.
“You’re not the police. Why are you here?”
“Listen.” Chandler’s voice was loud. “Our friends are waiting for us outside.”
Jack winced. On the one hand, he knew what Chandler said made sense; but on the other, starting off with a lie was not the way to begin a conversation.
“That’s not true. I watched you come here. You drive a blue Impala.”
Damn.
Jack heard Chandler’s sneakers slide along the cement as he shuffled forward.
“Stop moving,” the man said. “I’m looking.”
“Jack?” Chandler’s voice was even, but Jack heard the fear in it.
“Are you afraid?” the man asked.
Jack felt his heartbeat shift up a gear. Sweat poured down his back. He took another step, and at last his hand touched the wall.
“Stop moving,” the man repeated.
“You can’t see me.” Jack took another step forward as quietly as he could.
“I can hear you,” the man said. “I’m looking. Are you afraid of the dark?” The question hung in the air.
“I got locked in a supply closet when I was a kid,” Jack said. “The light was on a timer. It shut off Friday night at five o’clock.” He continued forward with one hand against the wall, talking fast and loudly to mask the sound of his footsteps. “She didn’t come and get me until three twenty-seven Monday morning. It was this dark the whole time.”
Jack stopped and listened.
“Why did she lock you in the closet?” the man asked.
Jack tried to figure out where the voice was coming from. It echoed off the walls, but he guessed the man was at the base of the stairs. He started talking and moving again. “She wanted to go out, but there was no babysitter, so she locked me in there. I don’t know how long it took, but if you spend enough time in the dark, it stops scaring you.”
“It’s still scaring me,” Chandler muttered.
Jack stopped and listened. His heart pounded in his ears, and that was the only sound he heard.
A flashlight turned on. Hollow dark-brown eyes stared at Jack from only inches away. Jack’s breath stuck in his chest. He blinked rapidly.
“You could trip in the dark.” The man marched around Jack and walked past Chandler. As the flashlight beam lit Chandler’s face, he looked ready to bolt. “I told you I was looking. For my flashlight. Found it. I have another light over here.”
The man lit the candle in the can. In its flickering light, Jack scrutinized him. He appeared to be in his thirties, but his face was weathered and worn. A long black ponytail hung down his back, and he wore an old camouflage jacket.
The man set the homemade lantern down on the stack of cans. “Are you on assignment?”
Jack’s mind raced for an answer to the odd question. “Are we on assignment?” Jack repeated, hoping for more information.
“I heard you outside. You two are in the Army. Are you on assignment?” the man asked again.
Jack hesitated. He didn’t know which way to answer so he replied, “We enlisted.”
“So yeah, we’re in the Army. Thanks for the light.” Chandler gave Jack a look that screamed: Should we run?
Jack shook his head slightly. He looked at the man’s jacket. “Were you in the Army?”
“Marines. I’m still in. I’m on special assignment.” The man snapped to attention and put his hands at his sides. With his shoulders squared, he looked powerful. “Names. Now.”
“Chandler Carter, and he’s Jack Stratton,” Chandler blurted.