Chapter 7 - The Underground
The freezing rain soaked them completely as they descended into the dark, abandoned subway tunnels.
Clara carried the exhausted toddler on her hip while using her other arm to desperately support Rico's heavy weight.
The damp, rat-infested tunnels smelled like rust and decaying garbage.
They walked for two agonizing miles until they found an old, forgotten maintenance room behind a rusted steel door.
Clara helped Rico gently onto a dusty wooden workbench and checked his makeshift bandage.
The bleeding had slowed significantly, but his skin was burning with a terrifying, raging fever.
Rico handed her his heavy, loaded sidearm and told her she might have to use it.
He closed his eyes and immediately passed out from the massive blood loss and intense pain.
Clara sat on the cold floor, holding Leo tightly as the little boy finally drifted into a fitful sleep.
She aimed the heavy gun directly at the rusted metal door, praying fiercely that she would not have to pull the trigger.
Hours passed in absolute, suffocating silence.
Suddenly, the heavy metal handle of the door began to rattle violently from the outside.
Clara stood up, her entire body shaking, and placed her finger lightly on the trigger.
The door swung entirely open, revealing a tall man holding a sawed-off shotgun.
It was not a corrupt police officer or a Vivaldi assassin.
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It was Victor, the grieving brother of Rico's murdered wife, Elena.
Victor aimed his shotgun directly at Clara's chest, his eyes filled with pure, unadulterated hatred.
