Chapter Nineteen: The Door
There were four little niches in what had once been a solid wall. Four little piles of bones. Four skulls adorned with jewelry. Horror and curiosity had compelled her to go on working through the night, relying only on her senses of touch and hearing. Now the shaft of sunlight had returned, and she could see what her efforts had uncovered.
This necklace belonged to Ocean Stewart, she thought, kneeling beside the first skull. And Donna Wilkes was wearing an ID bracelet with the name of her brother, who was killed in Vietnam. These daisy earrings belonged to Holly Whitby. Deborah Niedermeyer wore her boyfriend's class ring.
"I'll take care of you," she whispered, wondering when her mouth had become so dry, when the hollowness in her stomach had shifted to painful cramping. "I'll get us all out of here. I promise."
She sat up and rested her chin on her knees. Her arms ached and her head pounded.
I will get out. I just wish I knew how, she thought. How long have I been down here? How long can I last?
As if in reply, the cellar door gave a drawn-out creak. The shaft of sunlight expanded like a balloon- swelled, and burst, and flooded the dusty room with light.
Despite the weakness of her body she was on her feet at once, poised for fight or for flight. She clutched the nail in her fist, its sharp end jutting from between her fingers, the way her father had taught her to carry her car keys at night; and when she heard footsteps on the stairs, she flexed her fingers, feeling the reassuring press of metal against her skin.
The man descended swiftly, almost eagerly, and stood before her, haloed in the light pouring in from above. He looked at her, standing grim-faced and ready in front of a wall filled with bones- and he smiled.
"You found my shrines," he said. "Enterprising girl. And now are you ready to worship with me?"