Chapter 85 Section 16

"Kate! Jason!" Their names echoed behind me.No one answered me. I leaned the trapdoor against the shelf behind it.I moved the workbench so that if the trap door were to fall suddenly, it would be blocked by the workbench before it was closed and possibly locked.Then I shone my flashlight into the darkness and saw a switch on a terminal post five paces below.I tried the first step and was able to go down easily to turn on the light in the basement. No, I warn myself.Patty couldn't help setting traps on the floor, or doing tricks in the basement.I got this far because I put myself in Patty's shoes and thought like him.What will Patty do to protect his basement?The broom handle is still in my hand.I stuck it down and flipped the switch...

There was an arc of light from the switch that made me flinch back, the broom handle was blackened, the light went out, and the electric shock was so powerful that it hit the broom handle in my hand.My palms tingled as the electricity reached me. A plume of smoke rose from the disguised switch.I smell burning wires.I shone it with a flashlight and walked down carefully.I tried my best to reduce the pressure on the steps with each step, and kept holding on to the handrail behind me, so that even if I took a step in the air, there would be something to support me so that I would not be able to fall.The further down I go, the less wind I hear.I looked where the flashlight fell, some boxes, a long handyman's bench, tools hung on the wall above the bench, shelves for groceries, a washing machine, a dryer, a kerosene stove, a Laundry tub, and a water heater.A window above the washtub was boarded up.The walls and floor were plastered with cement a long time ago, and there were pipes, wires, and exposed purlins on the ceiling, and a puff of moisture rushed in.

I went further down and saw another switch on another terminal, this time on the bottom.I picked up the broom handle that had fallen on the floor, held it out, and flipped the switch with it again, and this time it was real.The lights in the basement ceiling were on, dimly lit—sixty-watt bulbs—but still made me squint. "Kate! Jason!" I heard the echo again.Again I heard no answer. I checked the location.The wall facing the lot behind the house was on my left, no door, just a tall bookshelf-like thing with some canned peaches and pears on it.I pored over it from every angle, looking for a trap.I took a safe step to the left and pushed the shelf with the broom handle.

The shelf slid. I poked my head in and out of the corner, peering in at the exposed space.It was a tunnel about fifteen feet long, and the cement was so smooth that it looked freshly plastered.Patty copied Orville Dante's approach, except that instead of a wooden ceiling, Patty used concrete. At the end of the tunnel was a door covered with metal, with a deadlock, but instead of a knob to turn, there was a narrow slot for the key, and I had no doubt that the door was locked. I wanted to knock it open, but I hesitated.Why did Patty build this tunnel in particular instead of attaching the ceiling directly under the house?That will build faster and easier.Was Patty just imitating what Orville had done?Or is there still a trap in this tunnel?I surveyed the bare floors, walls, and ceilings and saw no danger.I was about to shout Kate and Jason again, and suddenly I understood the purpose of building the tunnel: if a stranger came to the basement, Kate and Jason would not be able to hear them because they were too far away, and they would not move. be heard by others.

But how can I open that door?Noticing that its hinges were on the side of the tunnel, I turned to the right, walked to the workbench, and grabbed a hammer and a chisel. I stopped again, and a sound surprised me. Like something is dripping.In the silent basement, the soft voice seemed loud. I looked at the washtub, its tap was tightly shut and there was no seepage. tick.I turned away, trying to discern where the sound was coming from.Tick, tick, and on and on. I focus on a pipe sticking out of the wall at the bottom of the stairs, tick, tick, I smell it, tick, gasoline.drip down.Gasoline was dripping from the pipe onto the concrete floor.It must have been caused by me flipping a disguised switch on the stairs.The final trap set by Patty.If the previous fails, a detonator will ignite when enough gasoline has flowed to the ground.The house and the intruders, along with the evidence against Patty - all will be lost in the flames.

Clutching my hammer and chisel, I ran into the tunnel.I tried the doorknob to verify that the door was locked.My frantic movements made echoes.I lifted the chisel under the head of a nail with the hammer on top, loosened the chisel, and dropped it to the ground with a thud.I also removed two other nails, pulled out the hinges, and shook the door vigorously. "Kate, here I come!" I banged on the door hard, "Jason, it's Dad! I'm here to get you out!" But they didn't knock on the other side of the door, and I didn't hear a sound answering me. The door wobbled and I stared at the key mechanism, hoping to unscrew the screw from the metal plate and disengage the lock, but Patty knocked the screw heads off.

I tapped the concrete next to the lock with a hammer and chisel.Some cement blocks fell, and I beat harder, my arms hurt, and large blocks of cement fell.I was worried that the sparks from the tap would detonate the gas, but I had no other choice.I had to do something before the house burned.Do everything I can.I was expecting the bolt to show the lock head, but the bolt is in a solid metal sleeve that protrudes a few feet into the wall as far as I know, and I'd have to spend all day knocking out more cement. I ran back to the workbench and looked at the tools, looking for a crowbar.No.I turned to the shovel and pick by the workbench for an ax with which to hack the metal-clad door.

No. The smell of gasoline grew stronger.I saw a three-foot pipe on the ground, probably left over from a trap.I didn't pay attention to it, stared at the tool on the tool table again, looked back at the tube, and grabbed it.I ran down the tunnel with the smell of gasoline filling the air.I tapped the cement next to the center hinge with the hammer and chisel, and the cement splattered again. My arms are cramping.Regardless of the pain, I hit the chisel harder.I couldn't see the target, I hit my fist and screamed loudly. I hit the chisel harder, despite the blood oozing from my knuckles.When a hole was knocked out, I put down the hammer and chisel, inserted the pipe into the hole, and, using it as a lever, pressed down with all my might.I was sweating and kept pressing on the tube.Suddenly, the door came loose, and I pushed hard, and the ditch widened.I staggered and nearly fell as the door banged and moved, the crack wide enough for me to squeeze through.