the building with a tremendous force—this time from another corner. Katie knew that Jerry was systematically taking out the structural parts of the building until it tumbled down into a pile of rubble—falling into itself.
“C’mon, Shane! You can do it!” she yelled through the wall.
More pounding and scratching came from the other side of the door. Until something clicked and the door opened an inch. “Get back!” she yelled, before kicking the door open the rest of the way.
Katie stumbled into the main room on the second floor. There she found Shane slumped on the floor, leaning up against the wall. Dried blood had stuck to the side of his head and face, he was missing his gold-rimmed glasses, and breathing hard.
“C’mon, we’ve got to get out of here now,” she said, and began untying his restraints. “You okay?”
He nodded.
The room spun slightly for Katie and she had to steady herself as she pulled Shane to his feet. “We need to leave now,” she urged. “Where’s your phone?”
“Back pocket,” he said.
Katie quickly reached for his cell phone and found it. Dialing 911, she explained the address and the line went dead. She frantically called McGaven’s number and when he answered, “Get help to Elm Hill… we need…” The connection went dead.
It was perfect timing; the next impact against the house was larger than the previous ones, shaking the entire mansion like a combined explosion and 8.0 earthquake. The floor shifted and then tilted to one side. The groans and screeches emitted from the old house were deafening. The mansion tried to hold together, but ultimately its tired old construction began to let go.
Both Katie and Shane couldn’t hold tight to anything and were left sliding across the main floor to the other side.
The rattling was unrelenting, deep groans, screeching, cracking, and crashing was heard all around them. There was nothing that Katie could do.
Fifty-Two
McGaven took the last turn on the road before the driveway to Elm Hill Mansion too fast and he fishtailed the car, barely getting it back under control. He was followed by four patrol cars, the sheriff’s car, and soon the fire department would be arriving after the place was secured. He knew that he was putting his job on the line, but he also knew that there was no room for mistakes.
Within seconds, he drove up the driveway for Elm Hill Mansion and saw an earthmover still idling on the property. No one was around.
The main structure of the house was smashed to pieces.
Katie’s car was there, along with another small vehicle.
McGaven drove all the way up to front yard area, slammed on his brakes and flung open the door.
The other patrol cars fanned out and took their backup positions, ready as needed.
McGaven stood in the middle of the property. Diesel hung in the air. There was an eerie quiet. “Katie!” he yelled. “Katie!”
Sheriff Scott, driving a department SUV, sped up to the property and stopped. He was out of the vehicle in seconds, running toward McGaven.
“What happened?”
At that exact moment, the entire mansion collapsed. Creaking, groaning, and crunching grew in sound as the structure slipped into its own grave. First from the middle inward, then the second and third floors crumbled and fell downward with a huge crash. Each piece of carefully planned and designed lumber let loose and caved in at weird angles, leaving a pile of rubble.
Dust rose into the air.
“Back up!” McGaven yelled, and everyone ran from the spectacle until it was finished.
When it was done, the once beautiful house was now a pile of old wood and shattered dreams. Its history halted. Dust continued to float over to the police officers in swirls with the humidity. There was a distinct smell of old barn wood and wet earth mixed with surrounding forest.
McGaven stood next to Sheriff Scott and they both were speechless for a moment.
Scott turned to the officers and said, “We need rescue workers here now! Get the fire department out here now!”
“Do you think Katie’s in there?” whispered McGaven, barely able to speak, still staring at the wreckage. “Do you think she even survived that?”
“If anyone can survive something like that—it’s Katie.” The sheriff left to coordinate the rescue, pushing his personal feelings aside.
McGaven stood still, gaping at the wreckage, but then he had an idea.
Fifty-Three
“Shane,” said Katie with a raspy voice. “You okay?”
She sat up and was able to free herself from the larger beams of the house. They were lucky, she thought—at the final moment she’d dragged