Someone, apparently, had busted their way into the house. Allie thought that was ironic. She and Lucy had to fight their way out, while someone had done the exact opposite and left a hell of a mess behind, too.
Only when she was absolutely sure there was no one hiding in the area did she take her hand off Apollo. The dog, finally released, trotted forward again. She hurried after him, sticking to the shadows. She worried about being spotted at first, but there was plenty of darkness to keep her hidden as long as she stayed away from the pool of lights gathered around the back patio. Ironically, it was Apollo’s coat of white fur that would give them away if someone were to sneak a peek out one of the back windows.
Apollo led her across the house to the other side before angling back toward a pair of bushes that were hidden from view. She crouched next to the dog, her fingers tightening reflexively around the gun in her hand.
“Now what?” she asked him.
Apollo stuck his head into one of the bushes. She moved closer, then pushed aside the foliage to reveal a small open window barely a foot high and two feet long. She peered in at what looked like a darkened basement on the other side. The bushes made for an effective and natural camouflage even in the daylight, never mind at night.
“So this is how you got in, huh? You sneaky dog.”
Apollo didn’t hesitate; he slipped into the opening and she heard a slight thump! as he landed below on the other side.
She sighed after him. “Looks easy enough…”
It was big enough for a dog, but would she fit? Probably. She didn’t have to worry about shards of glass sticking her as she crawled through, because someone had draped a thick and well-used (and dirty) duvet over the bottom portion.
You have squatters, Walter.
She wondered what Walter would say when he found out strangers had been using his house — or, at least, the basement — while he was in the city. Then again, considering how little he came out here, maybe it wasn’t so bad someone found a use for this place in the meantime. What Walter didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, after all.
That last thought made her smile wryly to herself. What Walter didn’t know might not hurt him, but what he did know, apparently, could. The men with guns waiting out here for them were proof of that.
She took a deep breath and eased herself headfirst into the window, doing her best to stay away from the sides and top even though whoever had been using this opening before her had done a tremendous job of clearing the frame of any leftover dangers. She felt like a worm sliding on her belly as she squirmed left and right, but always pushing forward.
The underground room was just as dark inside as it had looked from the outside, but once she allowed her eyes to adjust, she began making out covered objects along the walls, including a long something (Furniture?) directly below her. She would have been more afraid of falling and breaking her neck against the concrete floor if someone else — maybe even a lot of someones — hadn’t been entering Walter’s basement exactly this same way for God knew how long now. And if some squatter could survive this entry…
She took another deep breath and let herself drop, praying she wasn’t falling straight down into a sharp machine of some kind. Relief flooded her as she bounced off the soft cushion of a sofa, the fabric covering it crumpling (too loudly) against her body.
Apollo was waiting for her in the blackness, his eyes focused on the basement door at the top of some stairs on the other side of the room.
“See anything, boy?”
He glanced back at her for a moment, then looked forward again.
“Guess not.”
She took a step forward, crunching broken glass on the floor in the process. She looked around the basement, seeing more now that her eyes had begun adjusting to her environment. It helped that she had been moving through darkened woods for the last couple of hours.
There was an old faded blanket in a corner that she could smell even from across the room, and she had to step around an unlabeled can that was fresh enough that still-wet something was leaking out of it.
You’ve definitely got squatters, Walter.
“What now?” she asked Apollo when she was standing next to him.
The dog moved silently to the stairs and then went up.
“Wait,” she hissed, but of course he didn’t listen.
She sighed and followed him, thankful the steps were concrete so she didn’t have to worry about creaking staircases. The door at the top was closed, which she hadn’t noticed from below because of the lack of light. Fortunately the steps were gray, which made them easy to spot as she navigated up.
At the top landing, Apollo sniffed the air before letting out a small whine.
“What?” she whispered.
He licked his nose and pawed at the door.
“Was it open before, the first time you came through here?”
He walked around in a circle for a few seconds before sitting on his haunches and waited silently.
“I take it you didn’t close the door after you let yourself in the last time?”
Apollo lowered his head and licked at fresh dirt on his front paw.
“Why do I keep expecting you to answer?”
Allie pressed her ear against the door. It was cold to the touch, and though she was very still and quiet, even slowing down her heartbeat, she couldn’t make out anything that sounded like voices — or human activity — on the other side.
She put her hand on the silver doorknob before glancing over at Apollo. He stared patiently back at her.
“Stay down here, understand? I don’t know how many people are out there, and I can’t be looking after you, too.”
Apollo lay down on the smooth concrete landing, brown eyes watching her back.
She faced the door again, then finally gave the knob a slight twist — it moved without resistance. Unlocked.
I should have stayed with Lucy, she thought, just before she finished turning the doorknob (Quietly!), then pushed the door open, sticking her gun hand out first.
A half-second later she had slipped outside before she could change her mind. She left the door partially ajar behind her; if she needed to retreat in a hurry, the second it would take to twist open the doorknob might very well be the deciding factor between living and getting a bullet in the back.
The things I do for you, Walter, she thought as she went still and tried to place her location in the house.
She was in the back of a long hallway that was partially lit by a single lightbulb in the middle. She was standing in the shadowy area in the back, the realization making her breathe slightly easier. And she knew where she was, too: she had seen the hallway when she first entered the house, chasing after Walter and Lucy. She had glimpsed two back hallways at that time — one led to the bedrooms, and the other, she now discovered, to the basement.
She was flexing her fingers against the Sig Sauer when a figured appeared in front of her. He was all the way on the other side of the corridor — twenty feet, at least, maybe more? — but at that split-second he might as well be right in front of her.
Allie flattened her back against the closest wall and took aim at the man as he walked from left to right before disappearing off to the other side of the hallway opening.
Her heartbeat had picked up noticeably as she slowly lowered her gun hand. At the same time, she began picking up voices coming from the living room.