Page 18 of Organized Chaos

She planted an elbow and kicked her feet behind her, then pulled as hard as she could. Then did it again. And again. Her thighs scraped over the floor, then her knees and her feet. She rolled away from the jagged gash in the floor and put a hand over her heart. “Your turn.” She doubted Phillip heard her breathless words, so she scooted back toward the edge and peered down. “Come on.”

Phillip shook his head. “It won’t hold.”

As though determined to prove him right, the floor under Sarah let out an ominous sound. She rolled to safety. “What do I do? If I find some rope, can you pull yourself out?”

“Get my dad.”

Sarah heard the fear he tried to hide. “I don’t want to leave you here alone.”

“I’ll be fine. Dad has the key to the chain. I can get out that way.”

The sound of wood and nails giving way and Phillip’s yelp sent Sarah creeping forward again. She peered through a gap. The shelves had given way and collapsed. Phillip stood beside them, a look of utter helplessness on his face.

“I’ll be right back with your dad.” She slid to safety and jumped to her feet. She had to save Phillip. Nothing else mattered right now except getting him out of there and back to his safe, secure life.

She careened through the house, banging her elbow, then her knee, as she fled. Night wrapped around the house, casting shadows into her path and blotting out the dangers that lay in her way. She kept going despite the aches and pains.

Phillip needed her to rescue him.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Help Phillip. Help Phillip. Help Phillip. Her heart beat in time with the steady pulse of words crashing through her mind. Sarah stumbled from the house and out into the night air. A crisp wind tore through her sweater and left her shivering. No time to worry about that. She grabbed her keys from her bag and sprinted for her truck.

The engine cranked on the second try, and she spun the wheel while punching the gas. Gravel spewed under her tires and pinged off the undercarriage. Her headlights bounced over the uneven terrain, offering just enough illumination that she stayed on the drive and out of the grass growing on either side. The ranch house came into view and Sarah pressed harder on the gas. Stars sprinkled across the night sky begged for her attention. She’d never seen them so bright. Not right now. She’d spend all the time she wanted on stargazing once Phillip was safe.

Her truck engine growled and sputtered. Sarah let off the gas and began easing onto the brake. The driveway leading from the abandoned house joined into the drive towards Phillip’s parents’ home, and the land leveled out.

She bumped to a stop alongside a larger, newer truck but didn’t slow down long enough to appreciate it. She leaped from the truck and bolted up the steps and across the porch, where she jabbed her finger into the doorbell.

Peals rang out through the house.

Sarah jabbed it again, then rapped her knuckles on the thick pane of glass in the center of the door. “Hello? Mr. Williams?” She knocked and pressed the doorbell again. Her nerves clanged around inside until a light flicked on upstairs.

She heard footsteps pounding and the crash of voices within the house. She started talking before they tried to chase her away. “I’m sorry to bother you. But Phillip is in trouble. He’s trapped in the old farmhouse.’

The door banged open. Roger stood on the other side, a shotgun in one hand. The muzzle pointed at the ground, and he didn’t seem inclined to raise it or even move as he eyed Sarah across the open space.

She swallowed hard. No doubt she looked a fright, but that couldn’t be helped. “Do you remember me?”

He twitched his head in a nod. Behind him, an older woman with long, silvery-blonde hair appeared on the staircase. “Who is it?” She shot a look at Sarah and clutched her robe tight against her throat. “Oh my.”

“What about Phillip?” Roger asked. He looked past Sarah. “You said something about Phillip.”

The story spilled out of her in a gush of words that piled on top of each other and likely made no sense whatsoever.

Roger proved her point when he held up a hand. “Wait. Slow down. Where is Phillip?”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you.” She threw her hands into the air, exasperation taking hold. “We fell through the floor. Phillip is stuck in the cellar. He needs the key to unlock the chain.” She held out her hand. “I’ll take it to him.”

“It’s the middle of the night.” Roger’s expression reminded her so much of Phillip that her heart mule-kicked her ribs. “You expect me to trust you when you show up looking crazed and demand I give you a key?”

“Well, it’s the truth.” Sarah blew hair from her face and met Roger’s look. “We’ve been trapped down there all day. That’s why I look like this. Phillip thought I was trespassing. That’s why he followed me into the house.”

Roger rubbed the groove that appeared between his eyes. “I forgot to tell him you’d be there.” He looked back at the woman who must be Phillip’s mother. “His studio overlooks the old house. I should’ve known he’d see her arrive and go check it out.”

“You think she’s telling the truth?” the woman asked.

Sarah longed to comfort her. “I know this looks and sounds crazy. Trust me, I’ve had more than enough crazy. I actually accused Phillip of being a madman earlier today, so I understand your concern.” She hopped from foot to foot. “Please trust me. Even if you won’t give me the key, come with me to the house and let him out. It’s dark down there. And cold. And he’s hungry.”

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