Chapter 8 - The Sins of the Father
Mark crashed heavily into his father, sending them both tumbling onto the dusty stone floor.
The gun fired wildly into the air, blowing a chunk of stone from the arched ceiling.
"Run, Sarah!" Mark yelled as he wrestled desperately for control of the weapon.
Sarah didn't run away.
She sprinted across the room and threw her arms around her weeping mother.
Eleanor collapsed into her daughter's embrace, sobbing uncontrollably.
"I thought I would never see you again," Eleanor cried, burying her face in Sarah's shoulder.
"I've got you, Mom," Sarah promised, helping the frail woman stand up.
Across the small room, the two men continued their brutal struggle for the gun.
Arthur was older, but he fought with the terrifying strength of a cornered animal.
He managed to shove Mark backward against the heavy brass church bell.
The bell rang out with a deafening, mournful chime.
Arthur raised the gun and pointed it directly at his own son's face.
"You were always the weak link in this family, Mark," Arthur spat in disgust.
"You chose this pathetic girl over your own blood, and now you will die with her."
Mark stared down the barrel of his father's gun, breathing heavily.
"You are a monster," Mark said, his voice remarkably steady.
Arthur sneered and wrapped his finger tightly around the trigger.
Sarah knew she had less than a second to act.
She grabbed the heavy wooden clipboard holding the financial transfer papers.
She threw it with all her strength directly at Arthur's head.
The heavy wooden board struck Arthur squarely across the temple.
He stumbled backward, completely disoriented for a split second.
That distraction was all Mark needed to lunge forward again.
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Mark grabbed his father’s wrist and twisted it violently to the side.
The gun fired again, the loud crack echoing endlessly in the small stone room.
