Chapter 11 (part 2)

Max left the window and then checked around both sides of the shack. The three other shacks that sat behind the first one were just as featureless, the windows boarded over and looking as if the slightest wind might knock them over. He trailed around the left side of the first shack, looking for another window.

What he found was even better. At the far end of the main shack, there was thin wooden door. It hung loosely to the building on faulty hinges, its lower left side jutting out of the frame a bit. Max experimentally stuck the toes of his boot into this area and pulled the door towards him. The door gave a bit but, even in its dilapidated state, was still locked from the inside.

He looked to the weak doorknob and was sure that a single shot from his pistol would blow the lock apart. But there was no sense in bringing attention to himself. He holstered his gun for the moment and then kneeled down by the bottom of the door. He grabbed the crooked, swollen edge of the door with both hands and pulled forward as hard as he could. The door groaned and popped in protest. Over his head, one of the hinges popped out of the frame and clattered to the ground.

The door didn’t come out of its frame, but the lower half of the door was now completely free and loose. Max eyed the bottom of the door and the frame, pretty sure that he could squeeze through it. He peeked inside first, but only saw darkness.

Inside, he heard another scream of pain. It sounded like it belonged to the same voice that had issued the first scream.

Max paused for a moment, waiting for another scream or any indication that things were still progressing for the worse inside. After ten seconds of silence, Max started crawling through the bottom of the weakened door and into the darkness of the shack.

Inside, it was far too dark to make sense of anything. But now that the outside walls no longer separated him from the people inside, Max could hear things more clearly. He heard faint footfalls, walking away from him. He brought up a mental snapshot of the grounds and the shacks and thought that the footfalls were headed away from that first large room. Perhaps they were headed out to one of the shacks in the back.

Max took the binoculars from his shoulder and put them to his eyes, switching on the night vision feature. After adjusting the sights, he saw that he was in a hallway of some sort. Directly in front of him there was another door, closed and just as weak -ooking as the one that had allowed him entrance into the shack. To both sides, lined up against each wall, were several cardboard boxes and torn fragments of magazines.

Keeping the binoculars to his eyes, Max slowly crept forward. When his hand fell on the door in front of him, he prayed that it wasn’t locked. He took the binoculars away from his face and tried the knob.

It turned freely and with a slight rusty sound. When Max slowly opened the door, a faint murky light spilled into the hallway. Before opening the door any further, Max listened for any signs of a presence immediately beyond the door. The only thing he heard was the faint mumble of conversation coming from somewhere very far off to his left.

He took the chance and poked his head out of the door. He found himself peering into another thin hallway, lit by three kerosene lanterns that hung from crudely made hanging devices that were attached to the roof.

To his left there was an open doorway that looked out onto the three other shacks. A wooden walkway ran from the doorway in both directions, towards the adjoining buildings. He could still hear two faint voices from that direction, seeming to grow farther away, maybe into one of the other shacks.

Max looked to his right and saw two doors along the far wall. One was cracked open a bit, revealing a filthy restroom. The other was a fairly large door that seemed almost inappropriate in the fragile shacks. Five huge locks ran down the side of the door like large metal fingers digging into the wall.

Beyond this locked door there was the open walkway that led into the main room that Max had looked in on through the boarded up window. He listened intently and was certain that the room was empty.

Flexing his grip on his gun, he walked deeper into the darkness of the hall. He closed his eyes, said a silent prayer just in case God was listening, and walked towards the walkways and the voices.