Chapter 8 - The Ghost of the Past
I stripped off my jacket and wrapped it tightly around Brucie's face.
I coughed violently as the gas burned the back of my throat.
Luke collapsed to his knees, struggling to keep his eyes open.
"I'm sorry," he choked out, reaching for my hand.
I squeezed my eyes shut, preparing for the inevitable end.
Suddenly, a massive explosion rocked the entire hallway.
The steel shutter covering the nearest window was violently blown inward.
Cold night air rushed in, clearing the deadly gas instantly.
Through the billowing smoke, a figure stepped into the corridor.
It was Grandpa Bruno.
He was covered in bandages, limping heavily, and holding a grenade launcher.
"Get away from my granddaughter," he growled, leveling a pistol at Luke's head.
"Wait!" I screamed, shielding Luke with my body.
Grandpa lowered the gun, his eyes softening as he looked at me.
"I'm sorry I lied to you, Clover," he panted, leaning against the wall for support.
"Your father was a monster, and Eleanor was even worse."
"I took you to give you a normal life."
Before we could escape through the shattered window, a voice rang out.
"How touching," Eleanor sneered, stepping out of the smoke with a dozen guards.
She was holding a detonator in her hand.
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"The estate is rigged with C4, Bruno," she stated coldly.
"Give me the baby, or we all burn together."
