Prisoner (The Traveler Chronicles Book 2) by Dennis Green

Author:Dennis Green [Green, Dennis]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: thriller, Science Fiction
Publisher: Happy Hour Publishing
Published: 2016-06-11T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

ADAM AND I looked at each other. Even though there was no reason to think anyone knew we were out there, we began to whisper.

“Do you think Dawson is in there with them?” Adam asked.

“I don’t know.”

“We need backup.”

I nodded. “But I don’t want to wait around. Why don’t you call it in while I try to figure out a way in?”

He nodded and turned away, whipping his phone out.

I reluctantly pulled my head away from the door. Some irrational part of me did not want to lose contact, however tenuous, with the girls.

At least I hoped it was the girls. If the voice belonged to some half-crazed homeless woman, I would get to add embarrassing fuckup to my list of accomplishments for the day.

I looked at the hasp and padlock. It wouldn’t be too hard to knock the hasp off, but if Dawson was in there, the noise would warn him. I looked around, hoping that Red Trav might show me the way, but he had disappeared.

Typical. Never any help around when the real work needed to be done.

There had to be another way in. If Adam was right, and this was the way they brought cars into the showroom, there had to be another door nearby. They wouldn’t have wanted to wrestle with the big loading door whenever someone just wanted to come into the building.

Normally, you’d expect an entry door to the right or left of the large one. But the right and left sides of the sliding door were both featureless brick. There was no entrance door.

Or was there?

I studied the center of the wooden door again. It was weathered, and over the years the wood had warped and split. It was no longer a set of tongue-and-groove panels snugged tightly together. The gaps were not so big that you could see through them. But the lines created a kind of mosaic, a crazy quilt of cracks and joinings that masked a subset of gaps that were more regular.

I backed away a few feet from the door, so that I could see the big picture.

Yes.

What at first glance appeared to be just another bunch of lines and cracks was actually a rectangle the size of an entry door. All the other cracks in the door camouflaged it quite effectively.

It was like that picture that is either a vase or two people kissing, depending on how it struck you.

Now that I knew what to look for, however, I noticed a round hole right where a doorknob should be.

When I was little, my cousins and I played in an old barn on my uncle’s farm. Most of the doors to the building were secured with a bent nail that you hooked an eyebolt to. But some of them had knobs.

Not doorknobs like I had at home, though. These were just a hunk of metal attached to a long, four-sided rod, with a similar hunk on the opposite side. The rod ran through a square bracket, fitting snugly.

Turn the knob, the rod turns the bracket, which pulled the latch out of the way, door opens.

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