Chapter 15 - The Siege Begins
The impact was sickeningly loud,
a dull thud of metal against bone.
Julian slumped back into the cellar,
letting out a low moan before going silent.
I didn't wait to see if he was dead.
I dropped the kettle and turned back to James.
"Help me!"
I shouted to Leo.
My nine-year-old son,
his face pale and tear-stained,
rushed over and grabbed his father’s other arm.
Together,
we dragged James toward the back door,
his legs trailing uselessly on the floor.
We made it to the porch just as Mark climbed out of the cellar,
gasping for air,
his shirt torn and covered in blood.
"Is he down?"
Mark wheezed,
holding his side.
"I hit him with the kettle,"
I said,
my voice shaking.
"Good girl,"
Mark said,
stumbling toward his SUV.
"We have to go."
"His men are in the woods."
"They’ll be here any second."
"Where are they?"
I asked,
scanning the dark tree line.
"All around us,"
Mark said.
"He didn't come alone."
"He just wanted the glory of taking the baby himself."
We piled into Mark’s SUV,
the boys huddled in the very back,
James slumped in the passenger seat,
and me in the middle with Maya.
Mark slammed the car into gear and floored it,
the tires spinning on the gravel.
As we sped away from the cabin,
bullets began to pepper the back of the vehicle.
"Get down!"
Mark shouted.
I threw myself over the children,
feeling the impact of the rounds hitting the reinforced glass.
"Is the car armored?"
I screamed.
"Only the glass and the doors!"
Mark yelled back,
weaving the car through the narrow logging road.
"If they hit the tires,
we’re done!"
The chase was a blur of high-speed turns and the terrifying sound of gunfire.
I looked back and saw two pairs of headlights following us through the trees.
They were gaining on us.
The road was too rough,
too unpredictable.
"We can't outrun them on this road!"
Mark shouted.
"I have to move the fight."
"To where?"
I asked.
"The old quarry,"
Mark said.
"There’s a bridge."
"If I can get across it,
I can blow the supports."
"Blow the supports?"
I asked,
horrified.
"With what?"
"The emergency kit in the back,"
Mark said,
glancing at me in the rearview mirror.
"It’s not just first aid,
Sarah."
"I told you,
I knew this day was coming."
I looked at my brother,
the "black sheep" who had spent his entire career preparing for a war he hoped would never happen.
He had known our family was a ticking time bomb.
He had known James was a liar.
And he had prepared to save us anyway.
"Mark,
I'm sorry,"
I whispered.
"For what?"
he asked,
skidding around a sharp corner.
"For not believing you,"
I said.
"For thinking you were just being cynical."
"Save it for when we're safe,"
Mark said.
"Right now,
I need you to hold onto that baby like she’s the only thing that matters."
"Because to those men back there,
she is."
We reached the edge of the quarry,
the massive pit yawning like a dark mouth beside the road.
The bridge was a narrow,
rusted iron structure that looked like it would collapse under the weight of a bicycle,
let alone a three-ton SUV.
"Hold on!"
Mark screamed.
We hit the bridge at sixty miles an hour,
the metal groaning and shrieking under the tires.
I closed my eyes,
praying to a God I hadn't spoken to in years.
We made it to the other side,
the car sliding sideways in the mud.
Mark jumped out before the car even stopped.
He ran to the back,
grabbing a small,
black box.
"Stay in the car!"
he ordered.
I watched through the back window as the first of Julian’s cars reached the bridge.
It slowed down,
the driver realizing the trap.
But the second car,
traveling too fast,
slammed into the back of the first one,
shoving it onto the iron planks.
Mark pressed a button on the box.
A deafening explosion rocked the quarry,
a blinding flash of orange and red lighting up the night.
The center of the bridge vanished in a cloud of dust and twisted metal.
The first car tilted forward,
its headlights pointing into the abyss,
before sliding silently into the dark.
The second car screeched to a halt at the edge of the broken road.
Mark ran back to the SUV,
his face illuminated by the fire behind him.
"It’s over,"
he said,
getting back into the driver’s seat.
"For now."
I looked back at the fire,
the bridge that was now a gap between our old life and whatever came next.
James was still unconscious,
his breathing shallow but steady.
The boys were silent,
clinging to each other in the dark.
And in my arms,
Maya finally started to cry.
It was a loud,
vibrant,
demanding sound.
The sound of a survivor.
I held her close,
kissing her forehead,
and for the first time since James called me to the hospital,
I felt like I could finally breathe.
The daughter we could never have was finally safe.
But as I looked at the ruins of the bridge,
I knew that the secrets she carried were far from buried.
We were no longer the family I recognized.
We were something new.
May you like
Something forged in fire and lies.
And as the sun finally began to peek over the horizon,
