Chapter 12 - The Descent into the Pipes
The kitchen was plunged into chaos as Elena shoved Toby and Lily toward the open pantry door, where the narrow metal service ladder disappeared down into the dark concrete drainpipe.
"Toby, go down first! Hold onto the rungs tightly and don't look down!" Elena commanded, her voice fierce and commanding despite the panic threatening to tear her apart.
Toby didn't hesitate. He grabbed the cold iron rungs of the ladder and began to climb downward into the darkness, his grey t-shirt swallowed by the shadows within seconds. Lily followed immediately after him, sobbing quietly as her light blue dress snagged on the rough metal edge of the hatch.
"Elena, get down there!" Mark yelled, stumbling into the kitchen from the dining room, his shoulder bruised and his blue button-down shirt soaked in dust. He grabbed Agent Vance by the collar of his trench coat, shoving him toward the ladder. "You first, Vance. You got us into this."
Vance didn't argue. He grabbed the rungs and scrambled down the ladder with desperate speed, disappearing into the subterranean depths below.
From the dining room, the sound of heavy, dragging footsteps and ragged breathing echoed closer. The creatures had filled the entire house, their numbers multiplying with every second the front door remained open.
Elena stood by the edge of the hatch, refusing to climb down until Mark was beside her. "Mark, grab my hand! We have to go together!"
Mark turned back to look toward the dining room doorway. A pale, gaunt face peeked around the corner, its milky eyes locking directly onto his. Behind it, half a dozen more figures crowded into the kitchen hallway, their long fingers clawing at the wallpaper.
Mark reached out and grabbed Elena’s hand, pulling her toward the ladder. But as he stepped onto the top rung, a heavy hand gripped the back of his shirt, yoking him backward out of the hatch.
"Mark!" Elena shrieked, her feet slipping down the ladder as she desperately clung to his arm.
Mark slammed against the kitchen linoleum, his boots kicking out to dislodge the pale hand gripping his collar. He looked up to see Vance reaching up from the ladder, grabbing his wrist with all his strength.
"Let go of my shirt!" Mark roared, twisting his body and tearing the fabric of his blue shirt right off his shoulders as he lunged back toward the hatch.
With a final, desperate heave, Mark dropped down into the pipe, slamming the heavy iron service hatch shut above them just as a dozen long fingers began clawing frantically at the underside of the metal lid from the dining room side.
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Mark dropped the iron locking bar into place, securing the hatch as the frantic scratching and whispering echoed loudly in the confined space of the drainage pipe.
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