Chapter 9 - The Last Stand
Derek dragged Skylar aggressively backward toward the edge of the deep, black waters of the Miami harbor.
He screamed at the advancing federal agents to back away immediately or he would gladly slice his wife’s throat open.
The agents instantly halted their advance, lowering their tactical rifles and desperately trying to de-escalate the volatile situation.
Marcus pushed his way to the front of the police line, pleading with Derek not to do something that would guarantee him a lethal injection.
Derek laughed hysterically, his mind completely broken by the loss of his money, his power, and his meticulously crafted fake life.
He spat blood onto the concrete and proudly declared that if he was going to federal prison, Skylar was going straight to the morgue.
He began pulling her toward a small, idling speedboat that one of the cartel members had left tied to the far end of the dock.
Skylar struggled desperately against his suffocating grip, but her exhausted body was rapidly losing its remaining strength.
Derek shoved her violently into the driver's seat of the small boat, keeping the jagged glass firmly pressed against her skin.
He slashed the thick mooring ropes with the broken bottle and kicked the throttle forward with his heavy boot.
The speedboat violently lurched away from the wooden dock, tearing out into the pitch-black, choppy waters of the open ocean.
The federal agents scrambled toward their own marine vessel, but the speedboat was already rapidly disappearing into the dark, stormy night.
Derek grabbed the steering wheel with his bloody hand, laughing like a complete maniac as the freezing ocean spray hit their faces.
He told Skylar that they were going to drive until they ran out of fuel, and then he was going to drown her with his bare hands.
Skylar looked around the small console of the boat, desperately searching for anything she could use to survive this final nightmare.
Her eyes locked onto a bright orange, heavy plastic emergency flare gun mounted securely inside a glass emergency box.
She knew she only had one chance to execute this desperate plan before Derek realized what she was looking at.
Skylar intentionally slammed her elbow backward as hard as she possibly could, striking Derek directly in his fresh bullet wound.
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He roared in absolute agony, dropping the broken glass bottle and staggering backward against the side railing of the speeding boat.
Skylar smashed the glass box with her bare fist, grabbed the flare gun, and pointed it directly at the leaking auxiliary fuel tank near the engine.
