I follow Cassandra into the tunnel and drag the lid back over the entrance while still aiming the flashlight down.
The air is damp and cool, but I walk this path once a week, checking for signs of disturbance and making sure the exit stays clear, so I know there are no critters living in here.
The tunnel structure was built offsite in custom-designed sections, and then when the city received a surprise grant to upgrade the sewer system, and all the roads were torn up, there was a three-day period when some extra heavy machinery showed up.
That machinery tore up a path between the back of my house and the abandoned house. Something about a bad septic tank. And because I’m a good neighbor, I made sure new sod was laid the moment they finished filling the dirt back in.
My neighbors got upgraded utilities, and I got a new exit strategy. A win-win for everyone.
The tunnel isn’t wide enough for two people to fit side by side, so I hand Cassandra my flashlight and move ahead of her.
The glow she points at my feet is more than I need to make it through the couple of curves. I’ve taken this path with light, no light, holding my breath… But I’ve never taken this path with someone.
We stay silent as we go, but when my steps slow, Cassandra leans around my side and shines the flashlight forward.
“The other door.” She’s still whispering, but I can hear the understanding in her tone.
When I left her in the safe room last night, I know she went through the closets because she put on my sweatshirt and stole a pack of Skittles. I assumed she must have also opened the final closet door, revealing the back entrance to the safe room. Which is where we are now.
Same as the other door, this one has a palm reader mounted to the wall beside it. I place my hand against the surface, and we listen while the locks disengage.
There’s no such lock on the entrance at the gazebo. But I do have a way to flood the tunnel with a substance that will render anyone inside unconscious. So there’s that.
