Mrs. Hansen's Arc

Chapter 9 of 14

Mr. Hansen returned from the barn carrying rope coiled over his shoulder and two lanterns. Mrs. Hansen took one of the lanterns and held it over the shaft opening. The light showed the chain mechanism more clearly now, its links crusted with rust but still holding together. She pulled the chain to test it. The winch above groaned, and the birch drum turned with a grinding sound. The chain held, but barely. She could see where the iron links had worn thin in places, see how the wooden supports had settled unevenly over the years. Mr. Hansen leaned closer to examine it. "That won't hold both of us," he said. She already knew. The mechanism had been built for one person, maybe a hundred pounds at most. Two would snap the chain or pull the whole frame apart. Mr. Hansen started tying the rope to the winch frame, preparing a backup line. She watched him work for a moment, then pulled her phone from her pocket and set it on the stone edge of the shaft. She wouldn't need it down there. He looked up at her, rope still in his hands. "I'm going," she said. Not a question. He opened his mouth, then closed it. They both knew she'd made up her mind before he'd even come back from the barn. She lowered herself into the shaft, gripping the chain with both hands. The winch creaked as it took her weight, and she heard Mr. Hansen step forward above her. But the mechanism held. She descended slowly, hand over hand, the lantern light swinging against the stone walls. The geometric patterns grew clearer as she went down, carved deep into rock that had been sealed for longer than anyone remembered. When her boots touched the floor of the chamber, she looked up. Mr. Hansen's face appeared in the circle of light above, watching. She'd gone down alone, but she wasn't the first person to stand here. Whatever the people before her had left in this sealed place, she was about to find it.