Chapter 10 – THE ESCAPE HATCH

Dust and debris rained down from the ceiling.

The heavy steel door buckled inward, the metal groaning under the force of the blast. The crowbar Luca had wedged under the handle bent violently, but the door held. Barely.

“Go!” Luca yelled, boosting Isabella up toward the air vent. She scrambled through the opening, her ruined wedding dress tearing on the metal grate.

I picked Sophie up, my muscles burning, and pushed her up toward Isabella. Go, baby! Crawl fast! I signed frantically.

Sophie didn’t hesitate. She scrambled into the dark shaft.

I turned back to Luca. “Come with us! Please!”

“I have to hold the choke point!” Luca shouted over the sound of a second, smaller explosion hitting the door lock. “If I don’t slow him down, he’ll catch you in the cellar!”

“I’m not leaving you to die!” I screamed.

The door hinges screamed, metal shearing away from concrete.

Luca grabbed me by the waist and practically threw me up toward the vent. “Live, Julia! Give that little girl the life she deserves!”

I grabbed the edge of the vent and hauled myself inside just as the steel door gave way completely. It crashed to the floor with a deafening clang.

I looked back through the grate.

Marcus stepped into the panic room, a heavy assault rifle in his hands, a tactical flashlight strapped to the barrel. The beam swept across the room, illuminating the dust.

Luca was waiting for him.

He didn’t fire blindly. Luca stepped out from behind the crates, raised his handgun, and fired two precise shots.

Marcus grunted, stumbling backward as the bullets hit his tactical vest. But he didn’t fall. He raised his rifle and unleashed a hail of gunfire.

“Luca!” I screamed.

“Keep moving!” Isabella yelled from ahead of me in the shaft, grabbing my arm and pulling me forward.

I scrambled through the dark, narrow tunnel, my heart tearing in two. We crawled for what felt like an eternity, the sounds of gunfire echoing up through the metal walls, distant but terrifying.

Finally, the shaft ended. We tumbled out onto the cold stone floor of the wine cellar.

It was pitch black, but I remembered the flashlight feature on my phone. I pulled it out of my pocket and turned it on, the beam cutting through the rows of dusty bottles.

“The service elevator is this way,” Isabella gasped, leading us toward the back of the cellar.

We reached a heavy metal door. Isabella hit the call button.

Nothing happened.

“The power,” I realized with sinking dread. “The power is out. The elevator won’t work.”

Isabella let out a sob of frustration. “Then we have to take the main stairs. They lead right back up to the kitchen.”

Where Marcus and the gunfire were.

I looked at Sophie. She was pale, covered in dust, clutching her pink dress. She was relying on me.

I gripped the black car keys Luca had given me.

“We take the stairs,” I said, my voice hardening into steel. “We stay low. We don’t stop for anything.”

We crept out of the wine cellar, inching our way up the stone spiral staircase. The smell of smoke and gunpowder grew stronger with every step.

We reached the top and slowly pushed open the door leading to the kitchen hallway.

The kitchen was destroyed. Bullet holes riddled the stainless steel appliances. The emergency lights cast long, eerie shadows.

And lying on the floor in the center of the room, groaning in pain, was Marcus.

His rifle lay several feet away.

But Luca was nowhere to be seen.

I stepped cautiously into the kitchen, keeping Sophie behind me.

Marcus heard us. He painfully rolled onto his side, his hand reaching out toward a fallen kitchen knife.

“You’re… not going anywhere,” Marcus choked out, coughing blood.

He grabbed the knife and tried to push himself up.

I didn’t think. I didn’t hesitate.

I picked up a heavy cast-iron skillet from the stove, stepped forward, and swung it as hard as I could against the side of his head.

Marcus collapsed, completely unconscious.

I dropped the skillet, gasping for air.

Then, a hand fell on my shoulder.