Chapter 7 - The Escape Through the Floorboards
"They're inside!" Vance hissed, abandoning all caution as he lunged across the small bedroom and slammed the door shut, throwing the flimsy brass privacy lock. It wouldn't hold a determined boot for more than five seconds.
Clara didn't hesitate. She dropped the glass pitcher onto the bed, ran to the small crib where her baby was sleeping soundly under a light blanket, and scooped the infant into her arms, pressing the tiny body tightly against her chest.
"There's no time for the front door," Vance said, dropping to his knees beside the nightstand. He grabbed the corner of a heavy woven rug and yanked it back, revealing a square wooden hatch cut directly into the floorboards. "This is an old bootlegger crawlspace built into the foundation. It leads out to the drainage culvert behind the treeline."
"Go! Go!" Clara urged, dropping down on her hands and knees with the baby clutched safely against her ribs.
Vance lifted the heavy hatch, releasing a damp, earthy smell of stagnant water and old concrete. He climbed down first, holding up his arms to guide her. Clara descended rapidly into the pitch-black void just as the bedroom door behind them splintered open with a deafening crash.
"Clear the room! Check the closets!" a harsh, unfamiliar voice shouted from above, followed by heavy footsteps stomping across the bedroom floor.
Clara held her breath, pressing her face against the cold dampness of the earth beneath her while Vance pulled the wooden hatch back into place, sliding a rusted iron bolt home just as boots thudded heavily directly over their heads.
"Footprints lead toward the kitchen window, but there's no sign of them outside!" a voice yelled back through the house.
"Search the perimeter! She couldn't have vanished into thin air!"
Down in the dark, cramped crawlspace, Vance motioned frantically for Clara to stay low. They crawled on their bellies through the narrow concrete tunnel, the sharp gravel scraping against Clara’s knees, her only focus keeping her baby shielded from the dust and debris.
After thirty agonizing yards of crawling, the tunnel opened up into a wide corrugated metal culvert where the cool night air rushed in.
Vance pushed open the rusted drainage grate leading out into the dense, rain-soaked woods behind the property. He scrambled out first, extending a hand to pull Clara and the baby out into the safety of the dark forest.
As they collapsed against the thick trunk of an oak tree, trying to catch their breath in the downpour, Clara looked at the detective with burning questions in her eyes. "If the entire precinct is dirty, where are we supposed to go?"
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Vance wiped the rain from his forehead, his expression grim. "We’re going to the only person in this state who doesn't answer to local judges or corrupt police captains."
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