Chapter 9 - The Ticking Clock
The deafening crack of the detective's pistol shattered the tension in the warehouse.
The bullet struck Mark squarely in the shoulder, spinning him violently away from the remote detonator.
He collapsed onto the dirty concrete floor, screaming in agony and clutching his bleeding wound.
I scrambled across the ground, grabbing the small plastic detonator and crushing it beneath the heel of my shoe.
Detective Reynolds rushed forward, quickly kicking the hunting rifle away and restraining Mark with heavy zip-ties.
"Tell me exactly which car she is in!" I screamed, grabbing him brutally by his bloody collar.
Mark laughed, a sick, bubbling sound as blood dripped from his mouth.
"It is a black sedan, parked in sector four," he gasped, smiling wickedly.
"But the trunk is completely airtight, and you only have about twenty minutes before she suffocates."
I dropped him in absolute horror, sprinting wildly toward the locked steel doors of the warehouse.
The detective shot the heavy padlock off the door, and we rushed back to the police cruiser.
We tore through the city streets at over a hundred miles an hour, ignoring every red light and stop sign.
The torrential rain made the roads incredibly slick, but the detective drove with flawless, terrifying precision.
We reached the massive, multi-level long-term parking garage at the airport with only eight minutes to spare.
"Sector four is on the top level!" Detective Reynolds yelled, swerving the cruiser up the spiraling concrete ramps.
We skidded to a halt on the roof, surrounded by hundreds of parked, identical vehicles.
I jumped out of the car, sprinting through the pouring rain and desperately checking every black sedan I could find.
"Daisy!" I screamed, hoping to hear a muffled cry over the roaring thunderstorm.
The clock was mercilessly ticking down, and my hope was rapidly fading into sheer despair.
Suddenly, I noticed a black sedan parked in the far corner with heavily tinted windows and mud on the tires.
I grabbed a heavy metal tire iron from the trunk of the police cruiser and sprinted toward it.
I smashed the rear window with all my strength, unlocking the back door and pulling the trunk release lever.
The trunk popped open, revealing the tiny infant car seat hidden inside the dark, suffocating space.
Daisy was completely silent, her skin pale and her lips tinged with a terrifying shade of blue.
I pulled her out of the trunk, collapsing onto the wet concrete as I held her tiny, lifeless body.
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"No, no, please God, no!" I sobbed hysterically, rocking her back and forth in the pouring rain.
Detective Reynolds dropped to her knees beside me, pressing two fingers gently against the baby's tiny neck.
