Carefully studying the map,
Tom flashed his light around the damp, musky cellar. Cluttered with centuries of worthless junk, it was an enormous space running the length and breadth of Weatherly.
Tom and Trevor rushed over and examined a section of wood paneling. As Sarah tapped it, the wall echoed.
“See,” she said, encouraged. “It’s hollow on the other side.”
“Find a heavy object to smash it with!” Tom urged, knowing their time was running out.
Grabbing the first thing she found, Sarah handed him a lead pipe. “Will this work?”
“Most definitely.” He held it firmly. “Stand back! Both of you!”
Without a moment to spare, he hammered the wall, shattering the dry brittle planks into pieces. A cloud of dust engulfed them.
“It’s working!” exclaimed Sarah, jumping in and pulling away the debris.
Little by little the wall disappeared, exposing a small opening.
“We found it!” said Trevor triumphantly.
Tom flashed the light inside, revealing a long tunnel that led into a dark abyss.
While Tom stared down the mysterious passageway, Sarah noticed his anxiety.
“What’s wrong?” she asked tensely.
His voiced trembled. “I — don’t — like — small — places.”
“You’re telling me this now,” she said bluntly, a slight frown on her forehead. “It’s our only way out!”
“I know . . . just give me a second,” he grumbled irritably. Splashing along the water-soaked floor, Sarah and Tom hurried through the subterranean tunnel.