Chapter 6 - The Desperate Fight
The security guard stepped over the broken door and casually kicked it out of his way.
He told us to put our hands on our heads and walk slowly toward the shattered entryway.
I raised my hands exactly as he instructed, making sure to keep my eyes locked entirely on his weapon.
Sarah stood beside me, her whole body trembling violently with absolute terror.
As we took our first slow step forward, I noticed the heavy brass candlestick resting on the floor right next to my right boot.
I knew that this man had absolutely no intention of letting us leave this apartment alive.
I pretended to stumble over a piece of the broken doorframe and dropped to my knees with a loud gasp.
The guard rolled his eyes and lowered the handgun just a fraction of an inch to yell at me to stand up.
In that singular moment of distraction, I grabbed the heavy candlestick and swung it upward with devastating force.
The solid brass struck him directly in the kneecap with a sickening crunch.
He roared in agony and instinctively reached down to clutch his shattered leg.
I did not stop moving.
I stood up and violently drove my shoulder directly into his chest, throwing his massive weight backward into the hallway wall.
The handgun slipped from his fingers and clattered loudly across the hardwood floor.
Sarah dove frantically across the room and kicked the weapon completely out of his reach.
The guard tried to push himself back up, his face twisted into a mask of pure, murderous rage.
I grabbed a heavy wooden dining chair and smashed it directly over his back, sending him crashing face-first onto the floor.
He went completely limp, his massive body finally still against the broken wood.
I stood over him, panting heavily, and looked at Sarah, who was staring at me in absolute shock.
I told her that we did not have time to call the police because Tom's flight was leaving in less than an hour.
Sarah grabbed her purse, snatched the dropped handgun from the floor, and led me out the fire escape window.
We sprinted down the rusty metal stairs and threw ourselves into her compact car parked in the rear alley.
Sarah jammed the key into the ignition and the engine roared to life with a loud sputter.
She slammed the gas pedal to the floor and we tore out of the alleyway toward the highway.
I strapped on my seatbelt and checked the clock on the dashboard with a sinking feeling in my stomach.
The private airfield was at least forty minutes away in normal evening traffic.
We were going to need a miracle to reach the tarmac before that plane lifted off into the sky.
May you like
Suddenly, Sarah's car radio crackled loudly, and the digital screen flickered to display an incoming phone call.
The caller ID on the screen simply read "Tom."
