Chapter Twenty-Six Delaney

Chapter Twenty-Six

Delaney

Now: Saturday, 7:37 p.m.

We need a shovel to clear the doorway, as the snowdrifts have piled several feet high, up to our waists. The mountain is eerily quiet when we finally finish. The storm has momentarily abated. It's a starless night, swirling ice crystals blotting out the heavens.

Our many layers of winter wear and inadequate footwear make traversing the landscape awkward; the snow is packed tight in places, while in others we sink through to our thighs. Camille and I forge a trail for the rest of the group to follow. It takes ten minutes to navigate fifty feet, but we eventually make it to the driveway. Now three flashlights strong, we fan out, sweeping bright beams in all directions. I doled out our supplies, keeping one light for myself and delegating the other two to Liam and Camille. The only people I trust at this point.

"There's the attached garage there." I point to my left. "And I remember a shed out back, but we should check for anything like a guesthouse around the other way." My breath mists in the air, momentarily warming my nose before leaving it more chilled than before.

Liam nods along with me. "If Silva has survivalist skills, she'd find a spot that's away from the elements, where she can keep warm and dry. We should check for a root cellar. Or a caretaker's hut nearby. Or an old outhouse."

Wyatt snorts. "An outhouse? This isn't the frontier."

Liam ignores him. I'm stuck on how long it took us to go not far at all, and the bitter chill is slowly but surely leaching away our body heat. The temperature is well below freezing—and plummeting.

"There's no way we can cover all that ground without it taking hours," I say. "It took us forever to even make it to the front of the house—"

"No, we're not splitting up. Safety in numbers," Liam asserts.

"We'll freeze. I know we said we wouldn't, but it'll go faster if we split up." I plead with Liam to think sensibly.

He sighs but relents. "Cam and Wyatt, come with me; Piper and Willa, go with Delaney. We go right to look for a caretaker's property or any neighbors; you go left to check the garage and shed. And you three, you stick together. I don't want Silva getting any ideas."

Take-charge mode on Liam is sexy as hell, even if he has stuck me with the duds.

We turn left toward the slopes while the others backtrack several feet in the direction of the trees and a small, slanting hill. Hiking that will be a beast. At least our first stop is close. Piper takes the lead, pushing a path over to the attached garage. It's taken the brunt of the snowfall: five feet of glistening white balances precariously on the roof. It could avalanche off at any point, crushing us if we're not careful.

"Over here. There's a padlock." I beckon Willa and Piper to a door around the corner. "We just have to figure out the code."

"It's nineteen-forty-eight," Piper says. "Same as the front door."

I round on her. "How the hell do you know that?"

"It was in the welcome book."

It's an old instinct, the way Willa and I lock eyes. Sharing the same thought: It's weird that Piper knows that. I have a bad feeling about this.

I turn back to the door and key in the numbers with my thumb. 1-9-4-8. A rapid double beep confirms Piper is correct, and the lock clicks open. My hand is tentative on the handle, the flashlight poised at head height in the other.

"What are you waiting for?" Piper asks impatiently.

"One second!" Slowly, I turn the knob.

There's a crack, then a rush of cool air at my temples. In the split second, my brain grasps at explanation. Is the door booby-trapped?

Then chaos fills in the gaps. Behind me Willa shrieks, and Piper calls out a belated "Watch out!" I whip around and find Willa on the ground.

I gasp. "What happened?"

"Look," Piper says, pointing up at a row of icicles lining the eaves. Some are nearly a foot long and look deadly. There's a gap over the door where two are missing from an otherwise uninterrupted line. "One of those almost hit me. I felt it graze my shoulder." Willa's breathless, massaging said shoulder.

"Help her up?" I suggest to Piper, getting us back on task. She offers her uninjured arm, and I sweep my flashlight beam over the empty two-car space. It's not unlike any of our garages, with a workbench along the back wall and an extra fridge and freezer chest next to a towering metal storage unit. Familiar red cups are stacked on one of the shelves.

"The freezer," Willa whispers, and suddenly this doesn't feel like an ordinary garage after all. We inch toward it, Scooby-Doo style: me in the front with the flashlight and Willa and Piper behind me. It's old hat for Willa, cowering in the back, but I'm surprised Piper isn't leading the charge.

When we reach the human-sized chest, I indicate silently. Piper lays her good hand on the lid. I ready my flashlight to brain someone, as needed. And then I tick off with my fingers. One. Two. Three.

Piper whips the freezer open.

It's empty. All three of us exhale loudly. But we're not doneyet.

"Over there," Piper says in a low voice. She directs my arm to the right. The light reveals two doors, catty-corner to each other. It's like some messed-up game show. What's behind door number one?

I count down again. One, two, three. Willa does the honors this time, throwing open the door on the left-side wall.

"It's the house," I say. "There's the pantry by the kitchen." I direct the light so they can see.

"So where does this one go?" Piper asks, and we turn to the other door, which faces the back of the house.

"Outside?" I guess. But there's only one way to find out. I'm on deck, so I hand Piper the flashlight and grip the knob hard. It turns with a snick and opens onto pitch black. It does not go outside.

Piper shines the flashlight forward, and we all suck in a breath.

This door goes to the basement.