Chapter 8 - The Great Escape
"Don't make a sound," a highly familiar voice whispered right into my ear.
It was Silas.
He pulled me out of the metal chair and guided me toward the door in the utter chaos.
The emergency sprinkler system kicked on, soaking us both in cold, rusty water.
We slipped out into the busy hallway, blending in perfectly with the panicking police officers.
Silas led me out the back exit and into the dark, trash-filled alleyway behind the station.
The Mustang was parked illegally by the large dumpsters, its engine already purring smoothly.
"How did you get the car?" I shouted over the blaring noise of the alarms.
"I hotwired it from the impound lot," Silas smirked, throwing me the metal keys.
"You drive."
I slid into the driver's seat, feeling a massive surge of adrenaline I hadn't felt in fifteen years.
We sped away from the police precinct, leaving my traitorous son far behind us.
"We need to get to the private buyer before Chloe does," I declared, gripping the wooden shift knob.
"Where is the meeting taking place?" I asked Silas anxiously.
Silas pulled out a crumpled piece of dirty paper from his pocket.
"An abandoned warehouse by the old shipyard, exactly at dawn," he read.
We drove through the long night, fueled by righteous anger and the desperate need for justice.
As the sun began to rise, we pulled up to the massive, rusting warehouse.
A sleek black Mercedes was already parked out front.
Chloe was standing confidently next to it, holding a silver briefcase.
I stepped out of the Mustang, ready to confront the devil herself.
May you like
But as I walked forward, I felt the cold, hard barrel of a gun press firmly against the back of my head.
"Thanks for delivering the car, old man," Silas whispered maliciously behind me.
