Chapter 5 - The Darkness Below
The sudden blackout swallowed the basement whole. The hum of Sarah’s laptop was the only sound, its screen casting an eerie blue light across her horrified face.
She slammed the laptop shut to kill the glare, plunging herself into pitch-black silence. Her senses dialed up to an agonizing peak.
From the top of the stone stairs came the unmistakable sound of a key sliding into the lock of the heavy basement door.
Click.
The door creaked open on its iron hinges. Heavy, measured footsteps began descending the cold stone steps.
""Sarah?"" Marcus Thorne’s voice drifted down, smooth and deceptively friendly. ""Are you down here, my dear? Arthur sent me to check on the electrical panel. Seems the circuit breaker tripped on this wing.""
Sarah held her breath, crouching behind the sturdy metal shelving unit near her narrow bed. Marcus was Arthur’s trusted friend of fifteen years. Seeing him on that video, conspiring to destroy a six-year-old child, made her stomach churn with revulsion.
She felt in her pocket. The flash drive was secure. She quietly slid her phone from her apron, keeping the screen dimmed, and typed a quick text to Dr. Henderson: Julian in danger. Bring police with you to Vance Manor.
She hit send, but the message stalled. No Signal.
Marcus had brought a signal jammer with him.
""I know you're down here, Sarah,"" Marcus called out, his voice closer now. The beam of a powerful flashlight cut through the dark, sweeping across the concrete floor, illuminating the laundry hampers, the boiler, and finally sweeping within inches of the metal shelf where she knelt.
""Eleanor told me you seemed quite observant today,"" Marcus said, his shoes crunching slightly on the gritty floor. ""A sharp girl like you could go far in life. Or... you could make a very tragic mistake. Misplacing items that don't belong to you, for instance.""
Sarah glanced around frantically in the dark. Beside her hand on the lowest shelf was an old cast-iron wrench used for the radiator pipes. Her fingers closed around the cold, heavy metal.
""You won't get away with this, Mr. Thorne,"" Sarah said, intentionally throwing her voice toward the far corner near the water heater.
The flashlight beam snapped instantly toward the sound. ""Ah, there you are.""
Marcus moved quickly toward the boiler, pulling a small, silenced pistol from inside his tailored trench coat. ""You should have stayed out of family matters, Sarah.""
As he turned his back to inspect the space behind the boiler, Sarah lunged from her hiding spot, sprinting full speed toward the open stairs.
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Marcus spun around, shouting a curse as his flashlight caught her retreating silhouette. ""Stop right there!""
Sarah bounded up the steps three at a time, but halfway up, Marcus lunged forward and grabbed her ankle. Sarah fell forward onto the hard stone stairs, the iron wrench slipping from her fingers with a loud clang.
