Chapter 9
Instinct overrode fear. Clara lunged forward, grabbing the heavy, half-rotted wooden door and slamming it shut with all her might, throwing her weight against the rusted latch. A muffled gunshot cracked inside the mill, the bullet splintering the wood inches above her head and showering her hair with dry rot and dust.
"Run!" Clara screamed at the top of her lungs, spinning around to grab the Golden Retriever by its collar.
The dog didn't need encouragement. It leaped down the loading dock stairs in a single bound, hitting the flooded gravel lot with a splash and racing toward the safety of the dark perimeter fence. Clara scrambled down after it, her boots sliding in the mud, her breath coming in ragged gasps as the heavy double doors behind them burst open with a resounding crash.
"Stop right there!" shouted one of the tactical guards from the doorway.
Another shot rang out, kicking up a fountain of wet gravel a few feet to Clara’s left. She didn't look back. She threw herself over the sagging chain-link fence, tearing her jacket sleeve on a rusted wire, and hit the wet grass on the other side. The Golden Retriever was already waiting for her by the passenger door of her sedan, its tail low, its breathing steady and controlled.
Clara yanked the rear door open, shoved the dog inside, and vaulted into the driver's seat. Her hands shook so violently she missed the ignition slot twice before successfully jamming the key in and turning it. The engine roared to life. She slammed the car into reverse, popping the clutch and spinning the steering wheel hard. The sedan's tires tore through the mud, kicking up a blinding spray of dirt and water as she whipped the vehicle around in a wide arc.
May you like
In the rearview mirror, she saw the two tactical guards rushing out of the mill courtyard, pistols raised, shouting commands that were instantly swallowed by the roar of the rain and her engine. Richard stood on the loading dock, his silhouette stark against the halogen light, watching her escape with cold, unblinking fury.
Clara floored the accelerator, guiding the sedan back down the flooded access road toward the main highway. Her heart felt like it was going to burst through her chest, but as she glanced into the backseat and saw the Golden Retriever sitting calmly, looking back at her with absolute trust, a fierce sense of determination took root. They had the evidence. They had Arthur’s defiance. And now, they were running for their lives.
