Chapter 8 - The Cold Truth
The temperature in the freezer plummeted sharply, turning every breath into a visible cloud of white mist.
Mark desperately slammed his rifle against the heavy steel door, but the metal did not even dent.
David’s mocking voice crackled over the intercom, taunting them about their impending frozen deaths.
His wife leaned heavily against the frost-covered wall, her lips already turning a dangerous shade of blue.
Mark knew they had less than twenty minutes before hypothermia completely shut down their bodies.
He frantically searched the massive, freezing room for any potential escape route.
He noticed a heavy industrial ventilation shaft located high up on the back wall.
The metal grate covering the vent was secured with thick steel bolts that could not be shot off.
Mark spotted a massive, dormant forklift sitting in the corner of the room.
He climbed into the frozen driver's seat and prayed the battery had not completely died in the cold.
He turned the ignition key, and the heavy machine miraculously sputtered to life with a loud roar.
He drove the forklift directly toward the back wall, raising the heavy steel forks as high as they would go.
He positioned the forks perfectly under the edge of the steel ventilation grate.
He jammed the hydraulic lever upward, using the immense mechanical power to rip the grate completely out of the concrete wall.
He parked the forklift directly underneath the newly created opening to use it as a makeshift ladder.
He helped his freezing wife climb onto the roof of the machine and pushed her up into the dark shaft.
Mark quickly followed behind her, feeling the paralyzing cold slowly leaving his bones as they crawled through the duct.
They crawled for several agonizing minutes until they reached a grate overlooking the main loading dock.
They peered down and saw David pacing furiously, surrounded by dozens of fully armed mercenaries.
David was yelling at the men to prepare to extract the bodies from the freezer once the temperature hit zero.
Mark kicked the grate open, dropping quietly onto a stack of wooden pallets just behind the armed group.
He handed his wife a stolen pistol, and they both took a deep, synchronized breath.
They stepped out from the shadows and opened fire on the unsuspecting mercenaries simultaneously.
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David panicked and tried to run toward the exit, completely abandoning the men he was commanding.
Before David could reach the door, a massive armored SWAT vehicle violently smashed through the loading dock walls.
