Chapter 9 - The Culvert Confrontation
How Marcus had managed to haul his battered, malnourished frame out of the crawlspace and catch up to them so quickly was a mystery Ryan didn't have time to solve. But there he stood, leaning heavily against the concrete wall, clutching his ribs with one hand and coughing violently into a bloodstained handkerchief.
"I told you... I told you to wait by the access road, Pete," Marcus rasped between wet, rattling coughs, his voice echoing loudly inside the concrete tube. "Why did you drag her all the way down into the culvert?"
The bulky man—Pete—loosened his grip slightly over Maya’s mouth, allowing the little girl to take a ragged, sobbing breath. "The subdivision street was crawling with a neighbor's car, Marcus! I had to take the low route through the drainage ditch or someone would've spotted us carrying a kid out of Ryan Miller's backyard!"
"Well, now we're stuck," Marcus muttered angrily, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve. "The federal marshals are still combing the tri-state area for my old corporate accounts. Once I get my hands on the bearer bonds I left stashed in the foundation of Ryan's house, we catch the midnight freight train out of the county. But we need the kid as leverage to make sure Clara keeps her mouth shut."
Maya let out a muffled whimper, her amber-brown eyes wide with sheer terror as she looked around the dark, damp concrete pipe.
Ryan didn't wait another second.
He didn't call out a warning. He didn't hesitate. He launched himself out of the darkness of the culvert like a missile, his shoulder driving squarely into the side of the bulky man named Pete.
The impact caught Pete completely by surprise. The heavy man stumbled sideways, losing his footing in the wet mud, and dropped Maya as he crashed hard against the concrete wall of the culvert. Maya scrambled away instantly, letting out a sharp cry as she scurried backward into the shadows of the pipe.
"What the—!" Pete roared, swinging a massive fist blindly into the dark.
Ryan ducked the blow, but Pete’s heavy forearm caught him across the chest, sending him staggering backward into the mud. Before Ryan could recover his footing, Marcus Vance stepped forward, kicking out with his heavy boot and catching Ryan squarely in the shin.
Ryan hissed in pain, dropping to one knee in the freezing muck.
Marcus towered over him, his face twisted in a cruel, triumphant sneer. Despite his frail appearance, the malice in his eyes was blinding. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a heavy, rusted iron pipe wrench, raising it high above his head with both hands.
"You always were an arrogant prick, Ryan," Marcus snarled, his voice echoing off the concrete walls like thunder. "You thought you could build your perfect little life, design your perfect little house, and leave me rotting in the dirt? Well, tonight, your masterpiece becomes your graveyard."
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Ryan looked up, watching the heavy iron wrench begin its downward descent toward his skull.
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