Chapter 8 - The Cornered Prey
Mark's devastating confession hung in the cold warehouse air for a fraction of a second before chaos erupted.
Director Vance realized it was a bluff and screamed at the guards to open fire on us.
Mark violently shoved me and the incubator behind a massive steel shipping container just as bullets began tearing through the space we had just occupied.
Sparks rained down around us as the deafening roar of automatic gunfire echoed off the high ceiling.
I crouched over the incubator, using my body as a human shield to protect Noah from the ricocheting bullets.
Mark frantically searched the area for anything we could use as a weapon or a distraction.
He spotted a forklift parked nearby with a heavy pallet of industrial chemicals resting on its forks.
He told me to stay put and wait for his signal to run toward the loading dock doors at the back of the building.
Before I could protest, Mark sprinted out from behind the container, drawing the guards' fire away from me.
He dove behind the forklift, blindly turning the ignition key and slamming his hand onto the hydraulic lever.
The heavy pallet of chemical barrels tipped forward, crashing onto the concrete floor and rupturing violently.
A thick, blinding cloud of toxic white smoke instantly billowed into the air, completely obscuring the guards' vision.
I heard the guards coughing and shouting in confusion as they lost sight of their targets.
Mark yelled for me to run, his voice barely audible over the chaos and the blaring warehouse alarms.
I grabbed the heavy incubator by its handle and dragged it across the floor with all my strength.
I blindly navigated through the thick smoke, my lungs burning and my eyes watering uncontrollably.
I finally reached the cold metal of the loading dock doors and frantically searched for the manual release chain.
I found the rusted chain and pulled down with all my weight, slowly opening the heavy door just enough to slip through.
I pushed the incubator out into the cool night air and scrambled underneath the heavy door right after it.
I waited in the dark alley, desperately scanning the smoke-filled doorway for any sign of Mark.
Minutes felt like hours as the sounds of gunfire inside the warehouse suddenly ceased completely.
A figure emerged from the thick smoke, slowly stumbling out of the doorway and clutching their side.
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I ran forward to help him, but I froze when the moonlight hit the person's face.
It was Director Vance, holding a bleeding wound on her shoulder and pointing a pistol directly at my head.
