Chapter 4 - The Escape
Dominic grabbed the guard’s flashlight and led Elena toward the far end of the basement, past stacks of rotting wooden crates and rusted iron shelving.
“There’s an old coal chute behind these barrels,” Dominic said, his breathing labored as he shoved a heavy wooden cask aside. “It leads out to the drainage ditch behind the garage.”
Elena stepped in, helping him lift a heavy iron latch. The rusted grate swung open, revealing a narrow, sloping brick tunnel covered in leaves and soil.
“You go first,” Dominic ordered softly, handing her the Glock. “If anyone is standing at the top of that ditch, press the trigger twice.”
“I’ve never shot a gun in my life,” Elena whispered, looking at the heavy metal firearm in her hand with terror.
“Point at the chest and squeeze,” Dominic said simply. “Now go.”
Elena crawled into the narrow chute, her knees scraping against the rough brick. She pushed through a dense layer of wet leaves, emerging into the cold night air inside a overgrown ditch behind the mansion’s detached three-car garage.
She scanned the treeline. The night was dark, heavy with fog rolling off Boston Harbor. Nothing moved.
“Clear!” she whispered down the chute.
A moment later, Dominic dragged himself out of the tunnel, gasping as he clutched his bleeding ribs. The exertion had torn his stitches open; fresh crimson was spreading rapidly across his bandage.
“My car is parked three streets over on Maple Avenue,” Elena said, supporting his uninjured side as he stumbled forward.
Suddenly, the heavy beam of a spotlight cut through the fog from the front driveway of the mansion. Shouted orders echoed across the estate as Marcus’s surviving men realized the basement was empty.
“Search the woods!” a man screamed. “Find them!”
Elena and Dominic ducked low, moving quickly through the dense brush behind the neighboring properties. Every footstep felt like a mile; every snapping twig sounded like a gunshot in Elena’s ears.
They reached the quiet suburban street where Elena’s rusted 2012 Honda Civic was parked beneath a broken streetlamp.
Elena unlocked the doors, helping Dominic slide into the passenger seat. He collapsed against the headrest, his forehead slick with cold sweat, his face pale as death.
Elena scrambled into the driver’s seat, shoved the key into the ignition, and turned it.
The engine sputtered. Click-click-click.
"No, no, no, please," Elena sobbed, turning the key again.
The battery was dying.
Down the street, two hundred yards away, two sets of headlights turned onto Maple Avenue. A black SUV began moving slowly down the road, its high beams sweeping across the parked cars.
"Elena," Dominic rasped, his eyes barely open as he looked at her. "Leave me. Take the gun and walk away."
"Shut up!" Elena snapped, her hands gripping the steering wheel. She slammed her foot on the gas pedal and turned the key a third time with all her strength.
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The engine roared to life.
Elena threw the car into drive, stomped on the accelerator, and tore away from the curb just as the black SUV accelerated behind them, its high beams locking onto her rear bumper.
