Chapter 8 - The Desperate Play
I screamed and grabbed my father's shirt, begging Grandma to stop.
I told her I would go back into the brace and never complain again if she just let him live.
Grandma’s smile faded into a look of absolute disgust.
She said I was just as dramatic and pathetic as my late mother.
Before the armed men could pull their triggers, Arthur tossed a small silver canister onto the snowy ground.
A thick, blinding cloud of white smoke erupted instantly, covering the entire porch.
Dad grabbed my hand and yanked me violently toward the back of the cabin.
We sprinted blindly through the dense, freezing woods while bullets tore through the tree branches above us.
Arthur provided covering fire with his revolver, deliberately leading the armed men away from our path.
We ran until my lungs burned and my legs felt like heavy blocks of ice.
We finally reached a desolate country highway just as a massive logging truck was passing by.
Dad waved his arms frantically in the middle of the dark road.
The truck screeched to a halt, and the terrified driver unlocked the passenger door for us.
We climbed inside and sped away into the night, leaving the violent nightmare behind.
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As I caught my breath, I looked down at my hands and realized something completely terrifying.
In the chaos of the smoke bomb, I had dropped the envelope containing all the financial evidence in the snow.
