She released his belt loop, turned on the flashlight he gave her.
Like caves, that’s how she thought of Bluff House’s basement. A series of caves. Some of the walls were the old stone where the builders had simply carved through. There were passages and low archways, section to section. Normally, she could have flipped switches and flooded it with welcome light, but now her beam shimmered and crossed with Eli’s.
“Like Scully and Mulder,” she commented.
“The truth is out there.”
Appreciating him, she smiled and stayed close behind him as he ducked an archway, turned left and stopped, with Abra bumping into him.
“Sorry.”
“Hmm.” Eli shone the light on the chipped red paint of the mammoth machine.
“It looks like something from another world.”
“Another time, anyway. Why haven’t we updated this? Why haven’t we hardwired a new generator into the house?”
“Hester didn’t mind power outages. She said they helped remind her to be self-sufficient. And she liked the quiet. She’s well-stocked with batteries, candles, wood, canned goods and so on.”
“She’s going to be self-sufficient with a new, reliable generator after this. Maybe this bitch is just out of gas.” He gave it a light kick. He took a glug of wine, set the glass down on another utility shelf and, crouching down, opened a five-gallon gas can. “Okay, we’ve got gas here. Let’s check the creature from another world.”
Abra watched him circle behind it. “Do you know how it works?”
“Yeah. We’ve gone up against each other a few times. It’s been a while, but you don’t forget.” He looked back at her. His eyes widened as he aimed the light on her left shoulder. “Ah . . .”
She jumped, spun around in circles, glass in one hand, bottle in the other. “Is it on me? Is it on me? Get it off!”
She stopped when he laughed—full, deep, helpless laughter that struck a wonderful and warm chord inside her even as it infuriated.
“Damn it, Eli! What is it with men? You’re all such children.”
“You took out an intruder, in the dark, alone. Then you squeal like a girl over an imaginary spider.”
“I am a girl, so I naturally squeal like one.” She topped off her glass, drank. “That was mean.”
“But funny.” He gripped the gas cap on the generator, twisted. Got nothing. He rolled his shoulders, tried again. “Suck it.”
“Want me to loosen it for you, big boy?” She fluttered her lashes.
“Go ahead, yoga girl.”
She flexed her biceps, came around with him so they stood hip to hip. After two mighty attempts, she stepped back. “Apologies. It’s obviously welded on.”
“No, it’s rusted and old and whoever put it on last time was showing off. I need a wrench.”
“Where are you going?”
He stopped, turned back. “Tool department’s back here, or it used to be.”
“I don’t want to go back there.”
“I can get the wrench all by myself.”
She didn’t much want to stay where she was alone, either, but couldn’t bring herself to admit it. “Well, keep talking. And don’t make any stupid gagging or choking or screaming sounds. I won’t be impressed.”
“If the basement monster attacks, I’ll fight him off in silence.”
“Just keep talking,” she insisted as he walked deeper into the dark. “When did you lose your virginity?”
“What?”
“It’s the first thing that came to my mind. I don’t know why. I’ll go first. The night of my senior prom. It’s a cliché for a reason. I thought it was forever, Trevor Bennington and I. It was two and a half months, six if you count pre-sex. . . . Eli?”
“Right here. Who dumped whom?”
“We just drifted apart, which is unsatisfying. We should’ve had some drama, some deception and fury.”
“Not all it’s cracked up to be.” His voice echoed eerily, making Abra turn to ujjayi breathing as she skimmed her flashlight around the area.
She heard a kind of thump, a curse. “Eli?”
“Damn it, what’s that doing here?”
“Don’t be funny.”
“I just rapped my damn shin on a damn wheelbarrow because it’s sitting in the middle of the damn floor. And . . .”
“Are you hurt? Eli . . .”
“Come back here, Abra.”
“I don’t wanna.”
“There’s no spiders. I need you to see this.”
“Oh God.” She inched her way along. “Is it alive?”
“No, nothing like that.”