Page 11 of Organized Chaos

Yeah, imagine that. All it had taken for her to find another Christian was to fall through the floor of an abandoned house and end up trapped in a cellar with a complete stranger.

“Well, since it seems that miracles are going in our favor, let’s use that to our advantage.” She shook out her hands and motioned for him to follow her. “We’re going to get out of here.”

“Sarah, I’ve already told you. There are only two exits, and we’re not getting out of either of them on our own.” He sounded defeated.

Sarah grabbed his arm and pulled him along. “I’ve survived spiders, serial killers, and snakes. And that’s all in one day.” She eyed him while grinning. “Stop thinking about all the things we can’t do and focus on what we can do. I’m tired and hungry. I want out of this place. Night’s coming fast, and as much fun as I’m having, I do not want to stay here all night.”

“Neither do I.” He stopped tugging against her and allowed Sarah to lead him back to the crumbled staircase. “We’d probably have better luck with the chained door.”

“Nails are easier to get out than chains are to break.” She could see it in her head. Phillip would boost her up to the door. She’d give it a good kick. The nails would fly out and they’d be free. She was no Chuck Norris, but surely the door wouldn’t bethat hard to break down. Not with how easily the floor caved under them.

Phillip’s disagreement settled over her, but he didn’t argue. One point for the businessman. He’d learned that arguing was pointless. He shook his head, dark hair falling into his eyes, and laced his fingers together. “I’ll lift you up. If you can grab that last stair in front of the door, you’re on your own from there.”

“Oh, you know you’ll catch me if I fall.”

He grunted. “Why do I feel like that’s more of a when than an if?”

Sarah waved him off. “Oh, ye of little faith.” She put her foot in his hands and held onto his shoulders.

He stood and began to lift. “Climb onto my shoulders.”

Sarah gulped but did as he ordered. “Maybe I should have taken off my shoes first.”

“I can handle it.” He spoke through gritted teeth.

She searched overhead for something to hold onto and found a notch in the wall. Thoughts of spiders rushing out almost sent her careening backward, but she managed to shove her fingers into the crack and pull her weight upward.

Phillip shifted his weight. “Once you’re on my shoulders, I’ll hold your ankles to help keep you steady.”

Sarah took slow, deep breaths to steady her heart and planted her second foot on Phillip’s shoulder. With a heave, she wrenched her body up and straightened to her full height. “Don’t look down. Don’t look down. Don’t look down.” She swallowed hard. “The door is to the right.”

“My right or yours?” Phillip’s warm hands wrapped around her ankles and held fast.

Sarah focused on the feeling of his calloused palms and tried to ignore the flutter in her belly. “Your right.”

Phillip inched sideways.

Sarah put her hands on the wall and moved along with him until she reached the perfect spot. “Okay, stop.” She scrambled for a handhold on the remaining step. The wood splintered when she pulled, sending shards raining down on Phillip. She winced for him, but he never moved or made a sound. “You okay down there?”

“Never better.” His sarcastic reply gave her an excuse to grin.

“This board isn’t going to hold. If I could get a little higher.” She stood on her tiptoes and stretched her arms to their limit. Her nails scratched the door but there was nothing for her to grab. The stair had sat flush against the wall and the door. There was no gap, no place for her to even stand if she did manage to pull herself up.

Defeat was a bitter pill to swallow. It tightened her throat and made tears well in her eyes.

Phillip tightened his grip on her ankles. “We’ll find another way. Come on down.”

“Okay.” She managed a tight whisper then realized the predicament she’d put herself in. “There’s just one problem.”

“What?”

“I don’t know how to get down.”

Phillip gave that same grunt she’d heard so many times today that she feared she’d hear it in her dreams. No. Not her dreams. Her nightmares. Phillip was not dream-worthy material. Or so she tried to convince her heart when her stomach gave a little somersault.

“Can you reach down and grab my hands?” He let go of one ankle and stretched his hand upward. It brushed her knee, and Sarah let go of the wall long enough to reach down. Their fingertips brushed, but then she lost her balance and began to teeter. She squealed and grabbed for the wall again. Phillip’s hand returned to her ankle. “Steady. I won’t let you fall.”

Why did she believe him? Oh, right. Because he’d done nothing but help her and try to protect her the whole time they’d been stuck down here.

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