Chapter 6 - The Coal Chute Escape
The chute was pitch-black, narrow, and reeked of damp earth and old soot.
Eli crawled on his belly, dragging his knees and elbows against the rough stone floor, pushing his heavy backpack ahead of him inch by painful inch. Spiders brushed against his face, and the rough stone scraped his skin, but he didn't slow down.
Behind him, muffled through the stone walls, he heard Vincent yelling inside the kitchen: "Where is the boy?! Where is the safe?!"
Eli pushed harder. Up ahead, a faint speck of silver moonlight pierced the darkness.
He reached the end of the chute, shoving his body through the narrow rusted grate. He tumbled out into the wet, cold grass of the garden shed, gasping for breath as rain washed over his face.
A heavy thunderstorm had rolled over the Hudson Valley, dumping sheets of cold rain across the mansion grounds. Lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating the towering silhouette of Carrow Manor.
Eli grabbed his backpack, slipped his arms through the straps, and sprinted out of the shed toward the thick tree line surrounding the estate.
Suddenly, a bright beam of light swept across the wet grass.
Standing on the back patio of the mansion was Vincent, holding a high-powered flashlight in one hand and his gun in the other. He caught sight of Eli’s small running figure near the treeline.
"Stop!" Vincent roared, his voice carrying over the thunder.
Vincent fired two shots into the night sky, the loud pops echoing through the woods.
Eli didn't look back. He dove into the dense underbrush of the forest, his heart pounding like a drum as branches whipped across his face and clothes. He knew these woods—he had played in them every summer with his grandfather—but in the dark and rain, every tree looked like a terrifying shadow.
Behind him, he could hear Vincent crashing through the wet leaves, chasing him with relentless speed.
"Eli! You can't outrun me in these woods!" Vincent shouted from fifty yards behind. "Give me the backpack, and this all ends!"
Eli kept running, his feet slipping on the wet mud. He knew the main county highway was about half a mile through the forest, past the old stone bridge over Carrow Creek.
May you like
If he could reach the bridge, he could flag down a passing car.
Suddenly, Eli’s foot caught on an exposed tree root. He stumbled violently, tumbling down a muddy ravine, losing his grip on his backpack as it slid down into the rushing, swollen waters of Carrow Creek.
