Read Online The Survivor Chronicles (Book 2): The Divide by Erica Stevens - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Erica Stevens
Tags: Fiction
Ads: Link
under his arm and located the handles once again. Raising the butt end of the camera above his head, he smashed it down on what he hoped were the handles. It thudded off the cabinet and his hands screamed in protest as it hit floor.
Shaking off the lingering tingles in his hands, he grasped at the handles to find them still intact. He grabbed the camera and swung it down four more times before it broke apart in his hands and crumbled on the floor. He shook his hands out again as he stretched a tentative hand toward the handles, in the hope that at least one of the blows had managed to break it free.
Relief filled him as one of the handles twisted in his hand and broke off. He slipped his finger into the hole, located the lock, and pulled it back. The bottom door sprang open; a wave of whatever had been stored inside spilled around him and buried him up to his knees. Xander shoved the cameras, what felt like DVD players, and maybe some lenses off of his lap. He rose to his feet and began to kick and shove everything aside to make room to move the cabinet.
When he was done, he grabbed hold of the cabinet and managed to maneuver it out of the way. He was panting by the time he was done, but at least it was finally clear. "Can you get out?"
He heard the click of a knob and then what sounded like someone shoving their shoulder into a door. Something scraped and then it became silent again. "No. There's still something blocking the door."
At least the voice wasn't muffled anymore. Xander fumbled forward, his hand came in contact with the door and then slid down toward the handle. He ran over the frame and brushed up against a mouth and mustache in his exploration. "Sorry," he muttered.
"I'm not hitting on you, but that's the best thing I've felt in awhile," mustache informed him.
Xander chuckled as his hand slid further down the door. He didn't understand what was blocking the door, couldn't figure out why they couldn't get it open. He knelt down, and his knee connected with something metal. It appeared to be some kind of camera stand as his hands slid up and down it. He followed the stand to where it had become wedged against the cabinet he'd just pushed aside.
"Close the door." The door scraped and the stand clattered to the ground. Xander lifted it up and threw it across the room; he was temporarily pleased by the noise it made as it crashed into the opposite wall. "Try it now."
The door creaked open; he heard the loud sigh of breaths as someone began to cry softly. "It's ok Molly, we're out now."
Sniffles filled the air, but the crying didn't completely stop. "Thank you, thank you so much. I thought we were going to die in there."
Xander recognized it as the voice that belonged to the mustache. "Yeah, ah… you're welcome," he replied awkwardly. "It's going to be difficult getting out of here. I'm pretty sure I remember the way, but we have to go slow and hold onto each other. Grab my shirt."
He found mustache's groping hand and wrapped it around the bottom half of the back of his shirt. "How many of you are there?" he asked.
"Four," mustache answered.
"There's water and wires to watch out for, but I only came across one hole in the floor."
"What's happening out there?" a small voice squeaked.
"Nothing good," Xander answered honestly. "But I don't know what exactly happened, or what is happening."
"How did you manage to find us?" mustache inquired.
"Luck," Xander muttered as he made his way cautiously toward the doorway. He called out obstacles and directions to them as the man's clasp remained firm on his shirt. He made it into the hallway and counted the steps back toward the split. The heavy breathing and scuffling sounds seemed extremely loud, though he didn't think he'd have been able to hear them under normal circumstances.
"Stopping." They slopped to a halt in the puddle as he searched carefully forward with his foot. The hole had been around here somewhere, he was certain of it. He hesitatingly took a
Shaking off the lingering tingles in his hands, he grasped at the handles to find them still intact. He grabbed the camera and swung it down four more times before it broke apart in his hands and crumbled on the floor. He shook his hands out again as he stretched a tentative hand toward the handles, in the hope that at least one of the blows had managed to break it free.
Relief filled him as one of the handles twisted in his hand and broke off. He slipped his finger into the hole, located the lock, and pulled it back. The bottom door sprang open; a wave of whatever had been stored inside spilled around him and buried him up to his knees. Xander shoved the cameras, what felt like DVD players, and maybe some lenses off of his lap. He rose to his feet and began to kick and shove everything aside to make room to move the cabinet.
When he was done, he grabbed hold of the cabinet and managed to maneuver it out of the way. He was panting by the time he was done, but at least it was finally clear. "Can you get out?"
He heard the click of a knob and then what sounded like someone shoving their shoulder into a door. Something scraped and then it became silent again. "No. There's still something blocking the door."
At least the voice wasn't muffled anymore. Xander fumbled forward, his hand came in contact with the door and then slid down toward the handle. He ran over the frame and brushed up against a mouth and mustache in his exploration. "Sorry," he muttered.
"I'm not hitting on you, but that's the best thing I've felt in awhile," mustache informed him.
Xander chuckled as his hand slid further down the door. He didn't understand what was blocking the door, couldn't figure out why they couldn't get it open. He knelt down, and his knee connected with something metal. It appeared to be some kind of camera stand as his hands slid up and down it. He followed the stand to where it had become wedged against the cabinet he'd just pushed aside.
"Close the door." The door scraped and the stand clattered to the ground. Xander lifted it up and threw it across the room; he was temporarily pleased by the noise it made as it crashed into the opposite wall. "Try it now."
The door creaked open; he heard the loud sigh of breaths as someone began to cry softly. "It's ok Molly, we're out now."
Sniffles filled the air, but the crying didn't completely stop. "Thank you, thank you so much. I thought we were going to die in there."
Xander recognized it as the voice that belonged to the mustache. "Yeah, ah… you're welcome," he replied awkwardly. "It's going to be difficult getting out of here. I'm pretty sure I remember the way, but we have to go slow and hold onto each other. Grab my shirt."
He found mustache's groping hand and wrapped it around the bottom half of the back of his shirt. "How many of you are there?" he asked.
"Four," mustache answered.
"There's water and wires to watch out for, but I only came across one hole in the floor."
"What's happening out there?" a small voice squeaked.
"Nothing good," Xander answered honestly. "But I don't know what exactly happened, or what is happening."
"How did you manage to find us?" mustache inquired.
"Luck," Xander muttered as he made his way cautiously toward the doorway. He called out obstacles and directions to them as the man's clasp remained firm on his shirt. He made it into the hallway and counted the steps back toward the split. The heavy breathing and scuffling sounds seemed extremely loud, though he didn't think he'd have been able to hear them under normal circumstances.
"Stopping." They slopped to a halt in the puddle as he searched carefully forward with his foot. The hole had been around here somewhere, he was certain of it. He hesitatingly took a
Similar Books
