Chapter 10
The wooden basement stairs groaned under their collective weight as they descended rapidly into the subterranean darkness. The violent sounds of the mercenaries attempting to breach the heavy oak door echoed terrifyingly above them. Everett switched on a small pocket flashlight, its weak, yellow beam slicing through the thick darkness of the cellar. The space was cluttered with forgotten furniture, dusty wine racks, and heavy canvas tarps.
"Where does this lead, Everett?" Sloane demanded, her breathing heavy but controlled. She kept one hand firmly pressed over the inner pocket of her jacket, protecting the hard drive.
"There should be an access hatch," Everett said frantically, moving boxes and pushing aside a heavy wooden cabinet against the far wall. "My grandfather used to talk about a tunnel built in the nineteen-twenties for running rum from the cove. It exits near the tree line, a quarter-mile away from the property."
"Help him look!" Maren instructed, dropping to her knees despite the cold, damp concrete. Bennett stayed incredibly close to his mother, his small hands clutching the hem of her sweater. He was exceptionally brave, holding back his tears despite the absolute nightmare unfolding around them.
The heavy thudding on the door upstairs transformed into the distinct, terrifying whine of a battery-powered circular saw. The mercenaries were cutting through the deadbolt. They had less than two minutes before the basement was swarmed.
"Here!" Maren shouted, her hands scraping against a recessed iron ring set into the stone foundation wall.
Everett rushed over, wedging his fingers under the rusted iron handle. It was incredibly heavy, sealed tight by decades of moisture and neglect. He grunted, his muscles burning as he pulled with all his remaining strength. The stone panel groaned, scraping loudly against the concrete floor before finally giving way. A blast of freezing, briny ocean air rushed into the cellar, carrying the distinct scent of pine needles and rotting seaweed.
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"Go, go, go!" Everett urged, practically pushing Sloane and Bennett into the narrow, dirt-walled tunnel. Maren followed immediately.
Everett squeezed through the opening last. Before he pulled the heavy stone door shut behind him, he looked back into the cellar. The basement door at the top of the stairs finally gave way with a massive crash, and a beam of tactical light cut through the gloom. Everett slammed the stone panel shut, plunging them into total, suffocating darkness just as the first mercenary rushed down the stairs.
