Chapter 8 - The Explosive Truth
Eleanor grabbed Lily and threw her body desperately out of the shipping container.
They sprinted toward the edge of the concrete pier with every ounce of strength they possessed.
The bomb detonated with a catastrophic roar that shattered the night sky.
A massive shockwave of fire and steel violently blasted them off the edge of the docks.
They plummeted into the freezing, dark waters of the harbor just as the container disintegrated into shrapnel.
Eleanor fought through the agonizing pain in her ribs, swimming upward to pull Lily to the surface.
They gasped for air, hiding beneath the wooden pylons of the pier as Arthur's guards rushed to investigate the blast.
"Did we get them?" a guard shouted from the concrete above.
"The boss will be thrilled, start the yacht and let's get out of here," another voice replied.
Eleanor watched a massive, multi-million dollar luxury yacht slowly pull away from the adjacent dock.
Through the brightly lit porthole of the lower deck, she saw a woman with familiar dark hair tied to a chair.
It was Clara, alive and trapped on Arthur's floating fortress.
Eleanor swam to a small, motorized security dinghy tied to a nearby post.
She hoisted Lily into the boat and hotwired the ignition with trembling, bloody fingers.
They sped across the dark water, keeping the lights off to remain completely invisible in the night.
Eleanor pulled the small boat alongside the massive yacht and tied it to a maintenance ladder.
They climbed up the slick metal rungs, slipping silently onto the lower deck of the ship.
Eleanor peered through the glass window of the engine room and saw her daughter weeping in the darkness.
She picked the lock with a piece of wire from her pocket and pushed the door open.
Clara looked up, her tear-stained face freezing in absolute shock as she recognized her mother.
They collided in a desperate, desperate embrace, crying twenty years of stolen tears.
Suddenly, the heavy steel door slammed shut behind them, and the manual locks clicked into place.
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Arthur’s voice boomed over the engine room intercom, dripping with malicious victory.
"Welcome to your watery grave, ladies," Arthur laughed as the room slowly began to fill with ocean water.
