Chapter 9 - The Trap at the Point
I froze, my blood running cold.
The headlights of two large black SUVs swept across the dusty windows of the boathouse, casting long, writhing shadows across the wooden walls. Car doors slammed shut in unison outside.
"They found us," I whispered, grabbing Leo and pulling him behind the heavy wooden workbench.
Marcus didn't panic. He calmly closed the laptop, removed the USB drive, and slipped it into the breast pocket of his hunting jacket. He walked over to the corner, picked up a heavy iron crowbar, and jammed it securely beneath the reinforced double doors.
"They tracked your phone’s cell tower ping before you turned it off, Clara," Marcus said, his voice entirely steady. "Amateur mistake, but expected under pressure."
"What do we do?" I asked, my heart hammering against my ribs. "There’s only one way in and out of this point!"
"Not quite," Marcus muttered, walking over to the back wall of the boathouse and pulling aside a rotting canvas tarp.
Behind the tarp was a low, square metal hatch set into the concrete foundation, fitted with an industrial padlock. Marcus pulled a heavy ring of keys from his pocket, found the right one with practiced ease, and unlocked the latch with a sharp click.
"An old drainage tunnel," Marcus said, swinging the heavy hatch open. It led down into darkness, smelling faintly of river water and damp earth. "It exits half a mile down the shore near the old lumber mill. My truck is parked hidden in the brush over there."
"Uncle Marcus, what about you?" I asked, hesitating as he pushed Leo down into the mouth of the dark tunnel.
"I’m going to stay right here and welcome our guests," Marcus said, a dark, dangerous glint in his eye as he picked up an old landline telephone receiver that was still hooked to the wall. "Your mother thinks she can buy and sell this town. It's time someone reminded her what happens when the bills come due."
May you like
He shoved me gently toward the open hatch. "Go. Take the boy. I’ll meet you at the truck in ten minutes."
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