Horacio Ashmont's Arc

Chapter 10 of 12

Horacio returned through the tunnel the next morning, this time with purpose. He had a route now, a way out if Scrooge moved faster than expected. But the locked room bothered him. The door sat at the end of the abandoned building's upper hallway, its brass lock old but solid. He picked the lock with a bent nail and a strip of tin, working by feel until the mechanism clicked. The door swung inward on rusted hinges. Inside, an old well dominated the center of the room, its brick walls crumbling inward. The chain hung slack, the bucket long gone. He leaned over the edge and dropped a pebble. No splash came, just a hollow thud against stone. The well explained everything. The tunnel had been sealed because this building was condemned. The foundation had cracked when the well collapsed, making the whole structure unsafe. That's why it stood empty despite its grand facade. No buyer would touch it without rebuilding from the ground up, and no one had the coin for that in this part of the East End. Horacio backed away from the well and tested the floorboards near the walls. They held firm, but the center of the room sagged toward the shaft. His escape route led to a building that could collapse at any time. He couldn't bring his people here, not even in an emergency. The tunnel was useless. He latched the door behind him and descended to the cellar, his earlier hope replaced by a cold certainty that he'd wasted a night chasing shadows instead of finding real safety.