“I don’t think we should be doing this,” says Bobby, keeping an eye out as I try to pick the lock and open the door to Mr. Calaveras’ basement.
“If he’s coming back, Michelle will text us and let us know,” I remind him. “That’s the whole reason for leaving her behind.”
She wasn’t happy about drawing the longest straw, but she knew that somebody had to keep watch, should things go badly.
“But what if you can’t pick the lock?” asks Bobby. “Can we go back to the tree house then?”
“Too late for that,” I tell Bobby. “I just did it.”
“Where did you even learn how to pick a lock?”
“On the internet,” I say. “I figured it would be a good skill to have. You just never know when you might need to pick a lock to get out of a jam.”
“Or get into a jam,” he says as we peer down the stairs leading to the basement.
“I’ll go in first,” I tell him, and begin to make my way down the stairs.
“What if Mr. Calaveras comes back?”
“We’ll be long gone before that happens,” I assure him.
“Why would he leave in the middle of night?”
“I don’t know,” I say as I flip on the light switch. “Maybe he went hunting?”
“Hunting?” asks Bobby. “Did you just say ‘maybe he went hunting’? That doesn’t exactly make me feel any better.”
“Do you smell that?”
“Yes, I smell it,” he says. “It’s the same smell from the tunnel. The smell of death. It seems to be coming from behind that door in corner of the room.”
I walk over and reach for the doorknob. It’s locked.
“I hear noises coming from the other side of the door,” says Bobby.
“I hear them too … It’s Kenny!”
I don’t want to risk us getting caught, so I don’t pick the lock. I reach into my backpack instead and pull out a hammer. I hit the doorknob hard, breaking it off.
“My God!” screams Bobby. There are skeletal remains in a cage. It looks like the body of dog without its head.
Much to my relief, a second cage holds Kenny alive and well. I begin hitting the padlock until it gives way. I open the cage and grab Kenny.
“What do you think happened to that animal’s skull?” Bobby asks, looking at the cage with the skeletal remains.
We get our answer to that question when we see the shelf on the left side of the room. Lined up in a row like trophies are a dozen dog skulls, but they aren’t the most horrifying part of our discovery.
“Is that what I think it is?” asks Bobby.
I turn and look in disbelief. What Bobby and I are seeing now isn’t a dog’s, but a lone human’s skull.
“Let’s get out of here,” I whisper.
We start moving up the stairs when Kenny begins to growl. Mr. Calaveras stands at the top, blocking our path and holding Michelle in a headlock.
“Going somewhere, boys?” he asks with an evil grin.
“I’m sorry,” Michelle cries out. “He snuck up on me.”
“Breaking and entering is against the law, boys,” warns Mr. Calaveras. “I told you to stay away. Why didn’t you listen?”
Bobby had been right. Mr. Calaveras’ leaving had all been a trap, and we had fallen for it.
