Page 9 of Pumpkin Patch Peril
In the sudden, absolute silence that followed, four hearts beat loud enough to power a small farm.
They were trapped.
CHAPTER FIVE
The darkness inside the barn was absolute—the kind of thick, suffocating blackness that made you question whether your eyes were actually open. Four elderly women stood frozen like statues, afraid to move lest they walk into a pitchfork or tumble over a wheelbarrow.
“Well,” Ida whispered into the void, “this is cozy.”
“Don’t move,” Ruth hissed. “There are sharp things everywhere in here.”
“I can’t see my hand in front of my face,” Helen added, though nobody could verify this claim since nobody could see anything at all.
Mona took a tentative step forward and immediately collided with what felt like a hay bale. “Oof! This is ridiculous. We’re four grown women, not cave explorers.”
“Technically, we’re four grown women trapped in a barn like characters in a bad horror movie,” Ida pointed out helpfully. “All we need now is ominous music and someone with a chainsaw.”
“That’s not helping, Ida.”
They shuffled around in the darkness for several minutes, bumping into each other and various farm implements. Ruth managed to walk face-first into a hanging rake, which swungback and nearly took out Helen. Ida stepped on something that squeaked—whether it was alive or just a rusty hinge, nobody wanted to investigate further.
“Wait a minute,” Helen said suddenly, her voice brightening with the tone of someone who’d just remembered something important. “We have phones!”
“Phones?” Mona asked blankly.
“Flashlight apps! We all have flashlight apps!”
There was a moment of profound silence as this revolutionary concept sank in.
“Oh, for crying out loud,” Ruth muttered. “Sometimes I think we really are as addled as people assume.”
The sound of fumbling ensued as four elderly women attempted to locate their phones in the darkness. Purses were rustled, pockets were patted, and several creative words were muttered under various breaths.
“Got it!” Ida announced triumphantly.
A brilliant white light suddenly blazed to life, temporarily blinding everyone in the immediate vicinity.
“AHHH!” Helen shrieked, throwing her hands up to shield her eyes. “Point it down!”
“Sorry!” Ida swung the phone wildly, creating a strobe effect that would have been impressive at a nightclub but was considerably less helpful in a barn full of sharp objects.
“Not in my face!” Ruth protested, stumbling backward into a wheelbarrow.
Three more lights flicked on in rapid succession, creating a chaotic light show as each woman tried to orient herself while simultaneously being blinded by everyone else’s phones.
“This is like a very confused disco,” Helen observed, squinting against the glare.
“Point them all down at the ground,” Mona instructed, taking charge of the situation with the authority of someone who’d organized church potlucks for forty years.
They managed to coordinate their flashlights into something resembling useful illumination, casting four overlapping circles of light on the dirt floor. The barn looked different in the harsh LED glow—more mysterious, full of deeper shadows and strange angles.
“There’s the door,” Ruth said, pointing her light toward the massive double doors that had so recently sealed their fate.
They made their way carefully across the barn, stepping over tools and around hay bales like a geriatric commando unit. When they reached the doors, Mona put her shoulder against them and pushed.
Nothing.
“They’re stuck,” she announced, though this was fairly obvious to everyone.
