Chapter 4 - The Desperate Escape
The heavy transport van swerved violently as the driver took a sharp corner at high speed.
I braced my boots against the metal wall to keep myself from sliding across the dark floor.
I knew that if I did not escape this vehicle before we reached their destination, I would never see my daughters again.
The driver slammed on the brakes, likely stopping for a red traffic light on the main suburban highway.
This was the only opportunity I was going to get.
I raised the heavy steel tire iron above my head and swung it with absolutely everything I had.
The metal crashed into the rear window glass, shattering it into a million tiny, sparkling pieces.
The sudden explosion of noise caused the driver to panic and hit the gas pedal by mistake.
The van lurched forward, but I had already thrown my body through the broken window frame.
I tumbled out into the middle of the busy intersection and hit the hard asphalt with a sickening thud.
Car horns blared aggressively around me as drivers slammed on their brakes to avoid running me over.
I ignored the searing pain in my shoulder and scrambled frantically to my feet.
The transport van screeched to a halt a few dozen yards down the road, and the rear doors aggressively swung open.
I did not wait to see the security guards step out into the street.
I sprinted toward a crowded outdoor shopping plaza and quickly blended into the dense sea of afternoon pedestrians.
My heart hammered against my ribs as I ducked into a narrow service alley behind a large grocery store.
I collapsed behind a dumpster and desperately tried to catch my breath while assessing my injuries.
My hands were bleeding from the broken glass, but nothing felt permanently broken.
I reached into my coat pocket and realized that my cell phone had fallen out during the struggle in the house.
I was completely alone, totally untraceable, and hunted by men on my own husband's payroll.
I needed to find someone who could help me without asking any suspicious questions.
I remembered that Tom's former executive assistant, Sarah, had been abruptly fired just three weeks ago.
She lived in a small apartment building only four blocks away from this exact shopping plaza.
Tom had claimed she was stealing company funds, but Sarah had sent me a cryptic email begging me to look closer at his accounts.
I dragged myself out of the alley and cautiously navigated the back streets toward her building.
I reached her apartment door and knocked frantically, praying that she had not already moved out of the city.
The deadbolt clicked, and Sarah slowly opened the door while holding a heavy brass candlestick as a weapon.
She looked at my bruised face and bleeding hands, and her eyes widened in absolute shock.
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She immediately pulled me inside the apartment and locked the door tightly behind us.
She dropped the candlestick on the floor and told me that Tom had sent someone to kill her last night.
