Under the Floorboards (and In the Walls)

A Girl, A Crate, and a Handful of Flares-George

We were crouched behind a bush. Sides pressed close together. Flo had one hand on the ground to balance her and the other clenched tight to mine. Peering through the branches off the bush we could see the house across the street. We could not see the man who had just disappeared inside.

I'd always known that Flo was insane. I just didn't know she was a "break into a dangerous agency and listen to their top secret meeting about planting a source in the house of a prominent member of the government" insane. I'm just glad she called me.

My girlfriend was amazing. After finding a side door open she fearlessly sauntered into the lair of evil psychopathic wizards. Well, adults playing dress up. She heard their plan. Basically, not nice things. Plant sources in old peoples houses. Hoping that this was our chance to get evidence, she called me. From a phone box on Cherry Lane she told me where to meet her. Almost as soon as I got to Cherry Lane we observed a man leave. We followed him two miles on foot to the residence where he disappeared inside. The occupants were obviously out now.

Just as I was afraid that I would never be able to stand again, he emerged. I made eye contact with Flo. She nodded. The hunt was on.

We followed him again. Down streets, alleyways. Following Flo's lead we stayed enough behind him that he wouldn't notice us, but he was always within sight. Eventually, we were by the water. Dark warehouses squatted beside the river. He ducked into an office, slick as can be. There was a window, covered, but emitting light. Without hesitation, Flo darted out of the shadows and pressed against door, head close to the window. I waited. Whatever could be learned, I wasn't needed now.

After a moment she made here way quickly to another door on the building. One I assume would lead directly into the warehouse. After a moment she had picked the lock, beckoning to me, she slipped inside. Inside was dark and dank. I flicked on a penlight. Flo was already trying to pry open a crate.

"This is where they get their sources," she whispered to me. "A black-market seller who doesn't sell widely. I had my suspicions."

Together we pulled the lid off. Uniforms? They looked like robes but had a crest over the heart. I recognized it as Saunders Paranormal Investigators. But Flo was undeterred, digging, she pulled out a silver case. A source. She grinned at me, and I grinned back.

I pulled myself up into the box and began digging around for another. This could be all we needed! Tip DEPRAC off to search this warehouse. Flo joined me in the crate, and we stood up to our waist, definitely smelling up the uniforms. We found three more silver cases.

Suddenly we heard a noise. I clicked off my light. Someone had come into the warehouse. I ducked down with Flo. She began shoving uniforms at me. I knew what she wanted. Burrowing under the mound we hid ourselves and worked to regulate our breathing.

"Did you hear that?" A sultry voice whined.

"Probably rats. One got my lunch today." Another voice replied dourly.

They were approaching our crate. I prayed that my rapier was covered.

"What's this?" They had seen that the crate was opened. "Someone's been digging in here."

"One of the clients were just here meeting with the big man."

"Oh..." the first man sighed with frustration. "They always come in here and mess up the crates."

"Can't blame them for checking that the goods are here. I just wish they would close them up."

I wasn't breathing anymore, and I don't think Flo was.

The cover slip over the top of the crate and I felt the strikes of the hammer reverberate through my bones as they nailed the lid down. We were trapped in a crate with four sources and possible more. This was something Lockwood did. Not me.

-

I felt like I was one with the crate and its occupants. Every breath from Flo I could feel. Every rat that scurried past in the dark I heard. Then the workmen loaded up our crate and others into a truck. They swore about curfew starting soon. Then we went on a little drive. I felt every uneven patch of pavement. Every bump. We made winding turns and I was afraid of becoming sick. Then we stopped. And our crate was picked up again but with a lot less grace. The workmen didn't have a forklift here. Finally we were left alone. Where, I didn't know. But it was silent. And cold. Flo began to stir for the first time. And then her breathing came in jagged. My hand found hers in between the uniforms. She squeezed it with enough ferocity to convey her panic and I knew. Flo was claustrophobic.

"It's ok." I whispered. She gave my hand a squeeze in acknowledgement. I had to find a way our. We could barely move. It had been difficult to get the lid of on the outside. From the inside it would be impossible.

"George?" Flo sounded scared and I knew she was seconds away from freaking out.

"I'll get us out," I promised, a plan forming. "Do you think there are anyone around?"

"I can't hear anything" came her small voice.

We would be found out eventually if we stayed so it was worth a shot. I let go of Flo and found my waist. My work belt was fully stocked. Gripping small flare, I twisted and struggled until my hand reached the top of the crate. "Flo, get as far as you can to your side of the crate." I heard her move as she obeyed.

This was stupid. This had Lockwood written all over it. But I was doing it anyway. We had just received a new batch of flairs. They could light with a flick of your thumb instead of needing a lighter. I hadn't been able to try one out yet. Now was a good as time as any. I light the flair, sticking it up in the corner of the crate. I had a couple seconds before it blew. I pushed back and shoved as many uniforms over it as possible with my hands and then kicking with my feet as I tried to protect my face.

With a crack it exploded. I felt a pain in my knees, but I kicked upward. With one corner now destroyed the lid was compromised. I felt it give and scrambled up through the uniforms breathing in the fresh air. Flo popped up beside me. We looked at each other and then at our surroundings. We were in a storeroom with three other crates. Shelves lined the walls except for one where a roll over door explained how we got in. Another wall had a small door, probably leading further inside the building. Gingerly, we climbed out of the crate. Flo gave me an unexpected hug. I think she was just happy to be out of the stupid crate after over an hour.

"Our first home," I murmured into her hair.

"Don't," she said and then she laughed. It was a stressed laugh. I knew she didn't like to show weakness. She had been close to a break down in that crate. Laughed relieved tension so I laughed with her.

I gingery touched my knees. "Dang it." I swore. "These were new." Now they had holes in the knees. And were blood stained. Thankfully, it didn't seem deep. Just a little charred flesh was all. Ugh.

"Where do you think we are?" I asked after a moment.

Flo shrugged. "To guess? Saunders."

We tried the small door. Unlocked, at least from the inside. I peered into the hallway. It was clear. Before we left, we closed the crate and covered the damaged corner with a tarp. If someone checked in here, we wouldn't want them to see evidence. Then we snuck out. Whenever we heard voices, we went another way. Thankfully, there only seemed to be a couple people in the building. Older people.

We confirmed a couple things. We were in Saunders, Flo recognized it from when she had snuck in earlier There was a phone. And from listening at a couple doors, they were leaving soon. We went back to the little kitchenette/breakroom where we had found the phone and I called Portland Row, praying that Lockwood and Lucy were home. 

I just finished the first draft of the last chapter!! A bit of editing left. I've been slow on updates lately but hopefully now I can get the last couple chapters out quickly as I edit them. #SaveLockwoodandCo #LockNationDesignsMerch