Freedom Fighters

24. Hole

Careful as to not strain his abdomen, Dario made his way to his feet gingerly out of bed. Oliverio's father, Alfredo, scanned the doorway, making sure there was nobody in sight. Holding the wounded rebel's hand, he led the way to another room just down the narrow hallway.

As soon as the door opened, Dario coughed at the waft of musky dust. The room was cluttered with all sorts of equipment, from hoes to linen baskets and shovels. An unlit lantern hung from the ceiling. Presumably, it was a storeroom of sorts. Alfredo shoved away all sorts of tools and oddities in his way till he made some space in the middle of the room. He then knelt down and placed his hands on a wooden floorboard. With a little effort, he yanked up the floorboard. Dario's mouth opened in surprise as he realised that the floorboards had not been nailed in. A few more followed the first floorboard before a hole wide enough to fit him emerged. 

"Get in, quick." Alfredo's voice was gruff and to the point. 

With the older man's help, Dario stuck his legs in while maintaining a grip on the floor. He could feel the coarse moisture of soil beneath his feet. Slowly, he eased his body into the opening. Soon, he found himself under the floorboards. The space around him was rather adequate, as if they were made to contain a person. 

As soon as Dario fit himself inside, Alfredo grabbed the floorboards and lay them over the hole in rapid fashion. Whatever light that flowed into the musky room soon was closed off from him. Only small openings remained between the floorboards, allowing Dario to breathe rather easily. Try as he might, he could not see the happenings above him. 

His heart still beating fast from the exertions, he decided that he should sit down to rest. His right hand then came in contact with a somewhat glossy surface. In curiosity, he used his hands to feel the object. He wiped away the dust that coated it and ran his fingers around it. It seemed to be a wooden box of some sorts that was not much wider than his two palms put together. He then felt a cool metallic clasp. He pulled it. 

The box opened and Dario let his curiosity get the better of him as he felt for the objects inside. The left compartment seemed to contain an assortment of chains and necklaces while the right contained... stashes of notes. 

It was the Chang family fortune, Dario realised in an instant. A wave of guilt rushed into him and he closed the chest hastily, locking the clasp before placing it back.

He could feel the cool moisture of the dank soil through the thin fabric of the pants. He hugged his knees, looking up at those small openings between the planks that seemed to be the only thing connecting him to the world above. In this enclosed dusty space, dark thoughts began to seep into mind. 

A creeping fear encroached into his consciousness. Those soldiers... what would they do when they found him? He would definitely be shot, right? He had cheated death once. Would he survive one more time?

He hoped so. Perhaps the soldiers would not find this hiding spot. Would they even bother to look that closely? They were just making a routine visit to check for surviving revolutionaries, right?

Unless...

Someone tipped them off?

That possibility loomed larger and larger by the second, and Dario found himself breaking out in cold sweat. If someone did tip the soldiers off, they would ransack the entire house for him. And no doubt he would be found, by any means possible.

He could only hope it was not the case. Apprehensively, he perked up his ears, listening for anything at all that would give him any clue to his current predicament. 

Nothing... nothing yet.

In this contained space with only his fear as his companion, Dario lost track of time. A still silence cloaked the musty and humid air. Perhaps an hour went by? He did not know. The only things that disrupted his focus were the aching pain in his abdomen and the sound made by his increasingly rapid heartbeats.