Orchard of Skeletons by Eli Wilde

Author:Eli Wilde [Wilde, Eli]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Witching Hole Publications
Published: 2023-03-27T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

“Isaac, wake up!”

It was the replicant. Right beside me. Its eyes lit up the lounge, but the light still cast crazy shadows due to it being so low to the ground. Groggily, I pulled myself from Macy’s arms. She got up too, resting on her elbow.

“What is it?”

“Finch. He is close. His vehicle just appeared on the satellite GPS.”

I stood up quickly and felt dizzy. “Shit. We need to run, but where to?”

“We cannot run. There is no cover outside for miles. He would easily track us down if we set off running now. We must stay hidden here.”

“What?”

“Take everything we’ve got into the cellar and close the trapdoor after us.”

It was a stupid plan, but I couldn’t think of anything better. I picked up our belongings and the blankets we had been sleeping on and raced to the cellar. Macy followed carrying the replicant. At the kitchen table, I was about to move it when the replicant spoke again.

“Leave the table over the trapdoor,” it said. “If you move it, Finch is more likely to see the outline to the cellar and check it out.”

It was difficult opening the trapdoor with the table in place. The door was as wide as the inner legs of the table. I managed by angling the table to one side, using my back to hold it up, while Macy entered with the replicant.

“This won’t work,” I said.

“What is it?” Macy asked.

“The latch to the door. They are sure to see it.”

The joiner had done a good job trying to keep the latch concealed. It was sunken into the wood, but he left a small hole just large enough to fit a hand to pull the door open. That, and the edge of the door sticking up was how I first noticed it.

The engine of Finch’s Hummer suddenly droned in the distance. The sound became louder as it sped closer to us.

“It is too late to do anything about it now,” the replicant yelled. “Get down here quickly.”

I couldn’t leave things as they were. I needed to do something. I let the door fall closed and remained in the kitchen.

“Isaac,” Macy screamed from the other side of the trapdoor.

Brakes screeched.

Doors opened then slammed shut.

“They’re in here. I know they’re fucking in here.”

Finch.

“Get your sorry butts into that damned house and bring them out to me.”

At the sink was a dry cloth. I picked it up and went back to the cellar trapdoor.

Someone kicked the front door open.

A gun shot.

Another.

“We know you’re in here, boy. Come on out. We won’t harm you. We just want to make a deal.”

I didn’t recognize the voice. Finch must have recruited more men.

I forced the cloth into the latch and pulled the door open with my back once more against the table, angling it to the side. Macy tried to pull me into the cellar. I resisted, gently lowering the table and door at the same time as I entered the cellar, attempting to make as little noise as possible.

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