Ashes (Ashes Trilogy 1)

She was perched on a step stool, riffling through a shelf packed with candles and matches, when Ellie came to the door. “I found a whole bunch of clothes and soap and shampoo and tow—” The girl’s eyes widened as her flashlight swept over the pantry’s shelves. “Wow. We could live here forever.”

“Maybe not that long,” Alex said. “But it sure looks like they were set for the winter.”

“Hey, hey!” Ellie swooped on something on a bottom shelf. She came up with a bag of chocolate chips. “Can we make cookies?”

The girl’s face shone with so much excitement that Alex laughed. “Sure, but not tonight, okay? Let’s get cleaned up and then we’ll scare up something to eat. Tomorrow we can see about cookies. Show me what you found.”

“Ooo, ooo, I almost forgot,” Ellie said as they left the kitchen and the still-sleeping Mina. In the common room, they passed by Tom, who was scooping the clog of ash from the fireplace. “I found the basement.”

Tom paused, shovel in one hand, broom in the other. “What basement? Where? I didn’t find a basement.”

“In the bedroom,” Ellie said, all but adding duh. She tugged on Alex’s hand. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

“Okay, that’s a weird place for a cellar,” said Tom. They were in the smaller of the two bedrooms, clustered around a small rug doubled over on itself to reveal a hinged cellar door cut out of the floor. Ellie had dragged the door open by pulling on a metal ring set flush to the wood. “And you found it how?”

“I heard it,” Ellie said. “When I walked on it, the wood squeaked, and then when I pulled back the rug, there it was.”

“I can’t believe I missed this,” Tom said.

“Maybe I have better ears,” Ellie said.

“You’re heavier,” Alex said to Tom. “Everything squeaks. Honestly, you’d almost have to know it was there.” She aimed her flashlight into the dark maw. The light rippled over a set of narrow wooden stairs and brick walls. At the very bottom, she saw that the floor was poured concrete. This close, she could feel cold air feathering up from underground, and then she smelled it: wet rock, moist earth, and—

She sucked in a sudden breath.

“What?” Tom asked.

The stink was almost nonexistent but absolutely unmistakable.

Probably nobody down there now, though; it’s too faint. Still, she didn’t

like it. “I’m not sure we should go down there.”

Tom’s forehead creased in a frown. “Why not?”

“I’ve been down already,” Ellie said.

Tom rounded on the girl. “You went down without—”

“Guys, it’s just a great big room with a couple boxes and a big metal, you know, box.” At Tom’s look of consternation, Ellie sighed. “I just looked. I didn’t touch anything. Come on, I’ll show you.”

“Ellie!” Tom and Alex said in unison as Ellie backed down the stairs. “Wait, Ellie,” Tom said. “Let me get—”

“And you said I’m stubborn,” Alex said.

“No, I said you were difficult.” Tom turned on his heel and started for the hall. “Go down with her. I’m getting the shotgun. Don’t touch anything.”

“I’m not stupid,” Alex muttered, but he was already gone.

And the smell was still there.

Ellie was waiting at the base of the stairs. “See?” she said as Alex backed down. “It’s empty except for the boxes.”

Well, not quite empty. Her light glided over a workbench running along the near right wall. A rusted iron vise was clamped to one end, and there was a mousetrap atop the work space, but no tools and only a thin rat’s coil of wire hanging from the pegboard. A haphazard stack of cardboard boxes were piled against the brick to the right of the workbench. Christmas Ornaments was scrawled in black Sharpie on one. Another was labeled Fishing Gear. One stood open, and Alex saw a tongue of black cloth. The dead-meat stink was no stronger down there, though, and she thought Ellie would’ve mentioned a dead body or two.

She heard the creak of Tom’s footsteps overhead, and a spear of light pierced the darkness as he shone his flashlight down the stairs. “What do you see?” he called.

“It’s like I said,” Ellie called back.

“Workbench, boxes.” Aiming her light, Alex strafed the darkness to her left—and froze.

The metal cabinet was dark green, wide, almost directly opposite the stairs, and the door was open. Not much, maybe six inches, but enough so that when she moved a little to her left, her flashlight picked up a glint of metal, the twinkle of a scope.

“Alex?”

“Tom,” she said, and smiled. “Tom, it’s a gun safe!”

“What?” She heard Tom clattering down the steps, fast. “Wait—”

“So there are more guns?” Ellie asked. “That’s good, isn’t it?”

“I think so.” She started forward, reaching for the safe, wrapping her hand around the metal latch. “Good thing it’s open, too. Otherwise, we’d have to find the combina—”

From behind, Tom cried, “Alex, no, stop!”

Something slammed against her back as a bright orange flash erupted out of the dark, and a shotgun boomed.

26

The blast was deafening, loud enough that Alex thought her head would burst. Her ears shrieked with pain. The air split with the whirr of a slug where she’d been standing just a second before. Her throat closed on the choke of burnt gunpowder, scorched cloth, and hot metal, and her mouth was watering, her eyes streaming. She could feel the icy cold of the concrete against her hips. She thought Ellie was screaming, but the sound was muffled in cotton; she was virtually deaf and could barely breathe. Tom had hit her from behind, knocking her to the ground, but now his body lay draped over her. He was not moving.

“Tom?” She couldn’t hear herself, but felt the word in her throat. Still half-stunned by the blast, she tried turning over. God, please, let him not be dead. “Tom?” A moment later, his hand closed on hers and relief flooded her chest. She heard the low drone of his voice, but couldn’t make out the words. “What?”

“Booby trap.” His mouth was against her ear. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, I think so. What about you?”

“I’m fine.” Tom’s weight eased. The ringing in her ears had thinned to a high whine, enough so she could hear the dog barking from the bedroom overhead. Her head was killing her, and when she sat up, the darkness spun.