by Amy Cross
“Don't worry about that now.”
“I think she's trying to get our attention.”
“It's just the mechanism, Jenna. Ignore it.”
“I never thought about the possibility that she might have gone back upstairs,” she continued, taking another step back, until she bumped against the bannister. “I don't know why she'd have done that, but maybe she thought it was safer, or maybe she thought we were up there.”
“Jenna, pay attention!”
She turned and saw that he'd almost reached the far end of the laundry room.
“If Mum's up there,” she told him, “I have to go help her!”
“Your mother's not up there.”
“Then what's that noise?”
“It's the house,” he replied, sounding a little irritated as he began to open a panel on the floor. “Jenna, stay focused. I promise you, your mother's not upstairs.”
“How do you know that?”
“Jenna, just trust me.”
She paused, watching as he worked, and then she turned toward the bottom of the stairs as the bumping sound continued.
“Jenna! Don't go up there!”
“But Mum -”
“She's not up there. Trust me on this.”
She took a step toward the stairs, filled with a sense of panic as she heard more bumping noises.
“Mum?” she called out. “It's okay, I hear you! You're going to be okay, Dad and I are going to get us all out of here! This house isn't going to keep any of us!”
“Jenna, stop!” Owen shouted.
“I can't leave her!” she said firmly, with tears in her eyes as the bumping sound continued. “She must be so scared. I'll just -”
“Jenna, I'm telling you, she's not -”
Suddenly he let out a cry of pain.
Turning, Jenna hurried back to the door and saw to her horror that a spike had emerged from the wall and shot through her father's chest, pinning him against the wall.
She immediately took a step forward.
“Dad!”
“Stop!” he shouted, reaching up and putting a hand on the spike. He grimaced as he tried to push it back.
At the last moment, Jenna felt the floor moving beneath her feet. She stopped just as more spikes shot out from the door-frame, missing her face by inches.
The other, larger spike retracted from her father's chest, leaving him to slump down against the floor as he clutched a fresh wound on his right side, just below the breastbone. With the spike gone now, blood was pouring out and starting to soak his shirt.
“Dad, get out of there!” Jenna shouted, filled with panic.
She watched as blood flowed freely from the wound. Her father's trembling hands were trying to keep the wound closed, but he slumped forward as more blood dribbled down onto the floor. Already, he was starting to look pale.
“Dad!”
“I'm okay!” he hissed, which was clearly a lie. “It's not... I'm fine. Don't come in here! Don't risk it!”
“But -”
“I made a mistake,” he continued, taking a series of deep breaths. “I should have known there'd be...” He paused, before reaching out with bloodied hands and starting to lift the panel from the floor. “I've got this,” he told her, his voice tense with pain. He let out another gaps, but he kept going. “If you come in here, it'll just distract me. For God's sake, Jenna, stay out there where it's safe.”
Hearing another bump from upstairs, Jenna looked toward the ceiling.
“It's definitely Mum,” she said after a moment, turning back to Owen. “I have to -”
Stopping suddenly, she saw that there was a mass of pulleys and gears in the exposed part of the floor.
“I was right,” Owen said, staring down at the section of machinery. “This is different to the other parts of the house. Marchionne was right to guard this area. I can...” He paused, leaning closer to the hole in the floor. “I see what I have to do. There's a kind of conduit unit down there. If I can stop this part of the mechanism, I think the house'll be temporarily disabled. It'll probably have some way of repairing itself, but there should be a short period when we're able to get out.”
“Are you sure?”
He paused. “Not really, but it's our only chance. I just have to get down there.”
Jenna watched as he swung his legs over the edge of the opening.
“Stop!” she shouted. “What the hell are you doing?”
“I'll be okay.”
“What if there are traps down there?”
“There probably will be,” he replied, staring down at the mass of wires and pulleys that criss-crossed the space. “Then again, this is a delicate part of the machinery. Too many traps would risk damaging the house itself, so I just have to be careful and out-think this asshole. Come on, you've seen the photo of Marchionne in the hallway. He was just some dusty old fart.” He turned to her and forced a smile, despite the fear in his eyes. “I can do this, Jenna. It won't be easy, but I can disable the mechanism. The most important thing is that you stay out there and don't distract me.” He paused. “I love you, Jenna. I'm going to get us out of here.”
Hearing another bumping sound from above, she looked up at the ceiling.
“That's not your mother,” he said firmly.
“You don't know that,” she replied, trying not to panic.
“Yes, I do.”
She shook her head.
“Jenna,” he continued, “your mother... Your mother is dead.”
She turned to him. “You don't know that. She might just -”
“I saw her,” he added, interrupting her. “I told you I was trapped in a space beneath the house. What I didn't tell you is...” He paused, with tears in his eyes. “I was going to wait until we got out of here, but... While I was down there, I saw your mother's body sliding down through another opening. The house tidied her away, Jenna. I don't know how, I can't even begin to explain how everything works here, it must be to do with weights but...”
His voice trailed off.
“I'm so sorry,” he added. “Jenna, there was nothing I could do.”
“No,” she replied, “you're lying. You're just trying to keep me from going to find her.”
“I wish it was that,” he continued, “but... Your mother's body slid right past me and disappeared into the depths beneath the house. I tried to grab her, but I was too late. I saw enough, though. I saw her face, and I saw...” He paused again, as if he could barely get the words out. “So just stay put. Promise me you won't take any unnecessary risks. I lost your mother to this house, but I am damn well not going to lose you as well.”
“You're lying,” she stammered, wiping her eyes. “Mum's alive, she's -”
Hearing another bump above, she looked up, but this time the bump seemed different somehow. Hearing it again, she realized it did sound more like another piece of machinery being moved into place out of sight. Deep down, she knew her father was telling the truth.
“The house killed her?” she whispered, feeling a rising sense of anger in her chest. After a moment, she turned and looked over at the photo of Cesar Marchionne. “He killed her? A guy who's been dead for over a century reached out from beyond the grave and killed Mum?”
“Stay focused, Jenna,” Owen said firmly. “There'll be time to get angry later. Right now, you have to stay exactly where you are. The more I have to worry about you, the more I'll be distracted.”
She turned and saw that he was already lowering himself into the space beneath the laundry room floor.
“Dad, stop!”
“It'll be okay,” he replied, glancing at her before lowering himself further and finally disappearing from view. “If I'm right,” he continued, “I should be able to interrupt all the mechanisms, at least for a few minutes. When that happens, you have to get the hell out of this house. Don't wait for anyone, not even for me!”
“Be careful!” she called out, as she heard him clambering through the space, just out of sight
.
She waited, and she could hear him working, but she couldn't see him. She desperately wanted to go through and help him, but she forced herself to hold back.
“Dad?” she said after a moment. “What's happening?”
“I've almost got it. Just wait.”
“Watch out for traps,” she continued. “Please, Dad, you have to be careful!”
“I am. Believe me, I'm being very careful.”
She waited, but each passing second felt like an eternity and the ticking of the house continued with metronomic precision. Although she didn't want to her interrupt her father and risk distracting him, she desperately wanted to know what he was doing, and to make sure he was okay.
“Dad?” she asked finally, after several minutes had passed. “What's happening? Give me an update.”
“This is such a complex system,” he replied, his voice sounding further away, as if she'd climbed even deeper into the maze of machinery. “When this is all over, I want to take the whole place apart and find out exactly what makes it tick. Pardon the pun. Cesar Marchionne really was a genius, he created something I can't even begin to understand. Right now, I have to work out the right spot to...”
His voice trailed off.
Jenna waited, while still hearing bumps from upstairs.
“Dad?” she said cautiously. “Are you -”
Suddenly she heard a cry of pain, accompanied by a snapping sound. She stepped forward, her eyes wide with shock, but she stopped just in time as the spikes shot across the doorway again.
“Dad?” she shouted. “Dad, what -”
Before she could finish, she heard an agonized roar from the hole in the floor.
“Dad? Are you okay?”
“Don't come in here!” Owen shouted. “Jenna, stay back!”
“Dad, please,” she continued, with tears streaming down her face. “What happened? Are you okay?”
A moment later, she heard a slicing sound, as if some kind of trap was retracting.
“Damn it!” Owen hissed, his voice filled with pain. “Jenna, you have to be ready to run. Don't look back, don't hesitate, just run as soon as you get the chance, I think I -”
He let out another cry, followed by a gasp.
“I think I see a dead-weight mechanism for the front door,” he continued. “I can almost reach...”
She waited, fighting the urge to go into the room and help him.
“Dad, please,” she said after a moment, “tell me what's happening down there. Tell me -”
She gasped as she heard another crunching sound, accompanied by another gasp from her father.
“Dad!” she screamed.
“I'm okay,” he replied, even though his voice sounded much weaker now. “I've almost got it, this... This bastard was smart, but I'm smarter. I can do this...”
“Dad, get out of there!”
“Get ready to run, Jenna. Run and don't stop, not until you're clear of the house, but not until the door opens. I can take care of myself, but only if I know I don't have to take care of you as well. Do you understand?”
Turning, Jenna looked toward the front door and saw that bright morning light was now streaming through the window. For a brief moment, she felt a pang of hope in her chest at the thought that maybe, just maybe, the long night of misery was coming to an end.
“Almost...” Owen hissed. “I've nearly...”
Suddenly he let out a gasp, and Jenna turned to look back over at the exposed gap on the floor.
“Dad?”
She waited, trying to hold back the sense of panic that was now rising through her chest. After a few seconds, however, she realized the only thing she could hear was the house's regular ticking sound.
“Dad?” she screamed. “Say something!”
Still hearing nothing, she took a step back, while desperately trying to remember how her father had made it through the doorway. He'd taken the sheet of paper with him, so the notes were gone. She paused, thinking over the calculations and timings, before realizing that she knew what to do. Rushing forward, she activated the spikes and then held back, counting as they shot out from the frame. As soon as they'd retracted, she waited for the blade, counting again until it slid back up.
Stepping forward, she began to count again, before taking another step and waiting as the next set of spikes missed her by inches.
“Dad!” she shouted. “Are you okay?”
She took another step forward, away from the traps.
“Dad -”
Suddenly she remembered the third set of spikes. She began to duck out of the way, but a fraction of a second later she felt a sharp pain as one of the spikes sliced into her small of her back and burst out just above her hip on the right. Looking down, she froze as she saw the spike's bloodied tip, but a moment later it retracted and she felt another flash of pain as she stumbled forward and then dropped to her hands and knees. The pain was building fast, and she could already hear blood dribbling from her wound and spattering against the bare floorboards. A moment later, she realized she could feel a burning sensation running up the right side of her chest to her armpit.
“Dad?” she called out, trying to push through the pain. “Say something...”
Crawling forward, she almost reached the hole in the floor, before slumping down as she felt her right leg starting to seize. She let out a gasp of pain, before trying to move forward again and immediately feeling a grinding sensation in her hip. Her heart was pounding, racing faster than the ticking sound that came from the walls all around. Letting out another gasp, she hauled herself forward and then grabbed the edge of the opening, pulling herself further until finally she looked down into the gap.
“Dad?” she stammered. “Where...”
For a moment, all she could see was a vast, criss-crossing maze of wires, pipes, pulleys and other mechanical devices extending deep beneath the house. Some were spinning and turning, while others were completely still as if awaiting their next instruction, and she began to realize that the house itself was nestled atop a vast underground maze of clockwork pieces.
It took a few seconds for her to spot the figure further down, but finally she was able to make out her father's bruised, bloodied face. His body was curled up in a fetal position, as if he was trying to make himself as small as possible, and the ticking sound of the house's mechanism seemed louder than ever, echoing through the cavernous space as – far below – a huge, creaking metal rod turned slowly, keeping the entire system running.
Chapter Sixteen
“Dad!” Jenna screamed. “Say something!”
She waited, but there was no response.
“Dad!”
Reaching down, she slipped her right hand between two of the pipes. Her father was several meters deeper, however, and she could see several large wounds in his torso and neck. She tried reaching further, but immediately a set of spikes shot out from the side, with one piercing her wrist and briefly pinning her arm against the side of the pit. She cried out, but the spike quickly retracted.
Before she could pull her arm up, however, two large metal clamps suddenly shot into place from either side, partially crushing her hand. She cried out as the clamps squeezed tighter, and then she saw a metal pulley turning. One of the clamps eased a little, allowing her to finally slip her mangled hand free. Her fingers were bent and twisted, and when she tried to move them she felt a sharp pain as blood ran from a wound in her palm. Pain was building by the second, and finally she let out an agonized cry as she tried and failed to clench her fist.
“Jenna!” her father shouted suddenly.
Looking down, she saw that he'd moved slightly and was looking up at her.
“The lever on the side,” he stammered. “I got one thing wrong. You have to turn that before I can shut the mechanism off down here.”
Looking around, Jenna felt filled with panic before, after a moment, she spotted a metal lever next to one of the pulleys.
“This one?” she called out, reach
ing toward it with her undamaged left hand.
“Turn it!”
Her fingertips were still stinging, but she managed to grab the lever and turn it. The mechanism briefly shuddered, and when she looked down at her father she saw that he'd started working on part of the system much further down.
“What are you doing?” she shouted.
“Everything I try,” he replied breathlessly, “just gets... The machine repairs itself, and it has defenses, as if... It must notice differences in the weight distribution, something like that, but...”
He gasped as he reached toward another set of pipes.
“There's -”
Suddenly more spikes shot up from below, and Jenna screamed as she saw the tips of all three bursting out through her father's chest. He froze for a moment, impaled, and this time the spikes stayed in place.
“I can do this!” Owen gasped, reaching out with a broken piece of wood in his right hand. “When you hear the front door swing open, that means the house is disabled.” He paused, as if he was on the verge of losing consciousness. “You have to get out when that happens, Jenna. There might not be a second chance, so you have to run.”
“What about you?”
He shook his head.
“I'm not leaving you!” she shouted.
“I'll be...” He gasped. “I'll be right behind you.”
“How?” she asked. “How the hell are you gong to escape?”
“Just run!” he replied, as blood started running from his mouth. “Don't worry about me!”
“I'm not leaving you!” she shouted again.
“I can't get out of here,” he replied, still holding the piece of broken wood in his trembling hand. “I knew that from the start, when I came down here. The defenses are too strong, but you can still escape, Jenna. I think the house'll be out of action for at least half an hour, maybe a little longer, while it repairs itself. Get the hell out of here and find help.”
“You have to come with me!”
“I can't. At least...” With the bloodied spikes still poking through his chest, he reached a little further toward the main part of the mechanism. Fresh blood dribbled from his mouth, running freely down his chin. “At least you'll be... You'll... You'll get out of the house, Jenna. That's all that matters now...”
