Chapter 5 - The Locked Exit
Victoria’s shoes clicked rapidly against the wooden steps as she bolted toward the kitchen, her silhouette cutting sharply against the bright light above. Arthur didn't chase her. Every ounce of his physical and emotional energy was funneled into keeping his daughter’s heart beating through Clara’s frantic compressions.
"She’s coughing! Mr. Russo, she moved!" Clara cried out, her voice breaking with a mixture of shock and profound relief.
A raspy, agonizing wheeze tore through Lily’s throat, her small body convulsing as she gasped for the oxygen she had been denied for far too long. Her eyelids fluttered open, revealing unfocused hazel eyes that stared blindly up at the flickering bulb. Arthur pulled his daughter tightly against his chest, wrapping the wool blanket around her shivering shoulders.
"I’ve got you, sweetheart. Daddy’s right here," he whispered fiercely, pressing his face into her messy blonde hair.
Suddenly, the heavy kitchen door above them slammed shut with a resounding, metallic crash. The sound of a heavy deadbolt sliding into place echoed down the cellar stairs, followed by the sharp clack of a key turning from the outside.
Arthur froze. Clara scrambled up the first few steps and threw her weight against the heavy oak door, but it didn't budge an inch. The reinforced security deadbolt—installed to keep intruders out—had just been locked from the kitchen, trapping them in the dark, damp cellar.
"She locked us in!" Clara screamed, pounding her bruised fists against the solid wood. "Victoria locked us down here!"
Arthur gently set Lily down, wrapping her securely in the blanket, and stood up with a dark, terrifying resolve hardening in his eyes. He walked to the base of the stairs and looked up at the impenetrable barrier between them and freedom. Victoria’s muffled voice drifted down through the thick wood panels, cold and triumphant.
"Enjoy the dark, Arthur," Victoria called out, her footsteps fading rapidly toward the front foyer. "The estate sale starts tomorrow."
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Arthur reached out and gripped the brass doorknob, twisting it violently, but it held firm against his strength. There was no cell phone reception down here, no secondary exit, and the estate security guards were locked outside the main house perimeter. As the distant sirens of the approaching state troopers began to wail faintly in the night air, the cellar lights suddenly flickered twice and went pitch black.
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