Page 22 of Last Date
Merrick said sardonically, “Kip will protect me.”
“Don’t bet on it.” I led the way since I had my little flashlight.
At the front of the room, someone was trying to calm people, but many of them were still rushing toward the exit. The scrape of metal chairs on the floor was jarring, but Merrick and I just kept moving toward the basement door. Once we reached it, Merrick unlocked it and went in.
“Shouldn’t I go first? I have the light,” I said, peering over his shoulder into the darkness.
“Just shine it around me.” He moved slowly down the wooden stairs, holding on to the rickety railing.
“I don’t understand why you won’t just let me go first,” I grumbled, trying to shine the light around his broad shoulders.
“It might be dangerous.”
“So?” I scowled.
He made a grunting sound and scraped off some spiderwebs that caught on his hair. “Doesn’t anyone ever come down here?”
“Probably not. Would you come down here if you didn’t have to?” I winced as the board beneath my foot squeaked alarmingly. “We’ll be lucky if we don’t fall through the stairs.”
“Try to be lighter.”
I squinted at the back of his head. “How exactly would I do that?”
“Shhh. I think I hear something.”
A chill ran down my spine. “What?”
He stopped walking, and I bumped into his back. I put my hands on his hips to steady myself, and he glanced at me over his shoulder. “What are you doing?”
“Trying not to fall to my death.”
He sighed and started moving down the stairs again. The hair on my nape was stiff as we finally reached the bottom. The floor was cement, which was a relief. At least we didn’t have to worry about falling through a rotten floor. I shone the light around the large area and spotted an electrical panel across the room.
“There it is,” I whispered. “The panel is over there.”
“Why are you whispering?” Merrick asked.
I grimaced. “I don’t want to wake Babadook, just in case it’s in here.”
Merrick shivered. “God, don’tsaythat.”
I laughed nervously. “Hurry. I want to get out of here.”
“Yeah, I didn’t plan on hanging out and having a picnic.” Merrick strode to the panel, and I hurried after him. He opened the metal door, and it squeaked loudly, as if it hadn’t been opened in decades.
I shone the light on the black switches. “There, the one at the top seems to have been tripped.”
Merrick reached up and flipped the switch. “Hopefully, that does the trick and the lights are back on upstairs.”
“Let’s go check.” I turned, and we headed slowly up the stairs. When we pushed open the door, sure enough, the big room was once more bathed in light. “Whew. Problem solved.”
Merrick stood with his hands on his hips, staring up at the fluorescent lighting. “Why would the breaker have tripped, I wonder. It looks like the only thing pulling current are the lights overhead.”
“Maybe someone plugged in a blender in the kitchen area.”
“They’re serving cookies and punch, not margaritas.” He frowned. “I’ll have the city inspector come take a look tomorrow. I don’t want the building burning down from an electrical fire.”
“Good idea.”
