“Look Daisy.” He flashed his light on the ground and aimed it down a path on the dirt. “Someone’s actually been here! See the footsteps.” The dirt showed the imprints of something – but not clearly what could be called footsteps. There was an unbroken trail that dragged off into the distance to the front of the basement.
“They must be old footsteps”, said Little Joe, trying to comfort himself and Daisy.
“Maybe you’re right, but I don’t know,” she said, nervously. Her voice was broken, her breath now uneasy. “They probably are old, after all who would come down here anyway? I’m sure even the homeless have a limit on the stench they take in.” She smiled a fake smile.
She looked at the trail below her feet. The hair stood on its end on her arms and back. “I want to leave now, Li
