Chapter 10 - HIDING IN PLAIN SIGHT BENEATH THE RUSTED CROWN OF THE OLD MILL
The cabin was no longer safe.
With the bounty on her head,
the woods would soon be crawling with hunters.
Savannah knew they had to move,
but they couldn't go far.
"The mill,"
she said,
looking at Julian.
"The old Carter textile mill on the river."
Julian looked at her as if she had lost her mind.
"That place is a ruin,
Savannah."
"It's right in the middle of his territory."
"Exactly,"
she said,
standing up and wrapping Maya in a heavy coat.
"He'll be looking for us in the suburbs,
at the borders,
in the hidden corners of the countryside."
"He'll never expect us to be sitting in a building with his name on the chimney."
"The basement levels are reinforced,
the power is still connected for the security cameras,"
"and the tunnels lead directly to the subway lines."
"It's the one place he thinks he already controls."
They left the cabin at dusk,
leaving the fire to burn out.
The drive back toward the city was a tense,
silent ordeal.
They passed police checkpoints where officers were checking IDs,
their breath visible in the cold air.
Julian used a fake permit for a delivery company,
the same one he had used for years to move equipment through the city.
They reached the mill at midnight,
the massive brick structure looming over the water like a ghost ship.
The windows were boarded up,
and the iron gates were chained shut.
But Savannah knew the way in.
They moved through a side door,
entering a world of rusted machinery and shadows.
The basement was dry and surprisingly warm,
the heat rising from the city’s underground steam pipes.
Julian set up his workstation on an old industrial table.
"We're here,"
he said,
looking at the monitors.
"We're right in the heart of the beast."
Savannah sat on a crate,
holding her daughter.
She looked up at the ceiling,
listening to the distant sound of the city above them.
Roman was up there,
somewhere,
pacing his penthouse,
screaming at his men,
trying to hold onto a world that was slipping through his fingers.
And here she was,
ten stories beneath his feet,
holding the match that would light the final fire.
She felt a sense of calm wash over her.
The drama of the chase was over;
the era of the siege had begun.
She was no longer the runaway wife.
She was the rebel queen,
sitting in the ruins of the old kingdom,
waiting for the right moment to strike.
"Maya,"
May you like
she whispered,
kissing the baby’s forehead.
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