Chapter 8 - The Underground
The tunnel was cold and smelled of wet earth.
Claire used her phone’s flashlight to guide them down the narrow path.
Emma was crying silently, squeezing Claire’s hand.
“Keep walking, baby. We’re almost there.”
Above them, the muffled sound of gunfire echoed through the earth.
Claire stopped. Her heart felt like it was going to burst.
Damian was fighting his own men up there. Men who wanted to kill her daughter.
“Mama, is Damian coming?”
“I don't know, sweetie.”
They reached the end of the tunnel.
A heavy iron grate blocked their path, opening up to a small, private dock.
A sleek speedboat bobbed in the dark water.
Claire pushed the grate. It wouldn't budge.
She pushed harder, her shoulders burning.
It was locked from the outside.
Panic set in.
“Help me, Emma. Push!”
They both pushed, but it was useless.
More gunfire echoed from the tunnel behind them. Footsteps were coming down the stairs.
Claire shoved Emma behind a stack of wooden crates near the grate.
“Don't make a sound,” she whispered, grabbing a heavy iron pipe from the floor.
She stood in the shadows, raising the pipe.
A figure emerged from the darkness of the tunnel.
Tall. Limping slightly.
Claire swung the pipe with all her might.
A hand caught her wrist in mid-air.
“It’s me,” Damian grunted.
He was bleeding from a cut on his forehead, his suit jacket torn.
Claire dropped the pipe and did something she swore she would never do again.
She hugged him.
Damian froze for a second, then wrapped his uninjured arm around her tightly.
“Are you hurt?” he whispered.
“No. But the grate is locked.”
Damian pulled a set of keys from his pocket.
“I know.”
May you like
He unlocked it and pushed it open.
“Get in the boat.”
