Beyond the hole was a storage room of some kind, empty of anything that wanted me dead as far as I could tell. The water level stood about neck high, but it kept squirting through the crack of the closed door on the left. That probably wasn't a good sign. I waded toward it, wondering how long I could hold my breath in case of an underwater escape. Mom had timed me a couple times in the bathtub when I was really little, but the bubbles I made with my butt in the tub made me snort too much to ...