Chapter 7: The Garage Arsenal
The garage was pitch black, smelling of gasoline, motor oil, and old cardboard boxes. Leo slammed the interior door shut behind him, flipping the deadbolt just as Maria’s weight slammed against the other side.
""Open this door, Leo! You have no idea what you're dealing with!"" Maria’s muffled voice shrieked through the wood, accompanied by the frantic rattling of the knob.
Leo ignored her, his eyes straining against the darkness. The faint amber glow of the streetlamp outside filtered through the high, grimy windows, illuminating the shapes of rakes, lawnmowers, and a heavy-duty workbench cluttered with tools. He raced across the concrete floor, his hands sweeping frantically over the cluttered surface until they brushed against cold, heavy steel.
A cordless circular saw. Next to it sat a box of heavy-duty lithium-ion batteries.
His hands shook violently as he slid the battery pack into the base of the saw. The digital display blinked green, indicating a full charge. It was heavy, industrial-grade, and loud—disastrously loud—but it was the only way to breach the reinforced multi-layer lid of the custom casket.
Behind him, the interior door groaned as Maria began throwing her weight against it, accompanied by the heavy metallic scrape of a crowbar she must have retrieved from the hallway closet. She was trying to force entry.
""You're not going to win this, Maria!"" Leo shouted back, gripping the handle of the saw.
He spun around just as the wooden paneling of the door splintered inward, the tip of a steel crowbar punching through the gap. Wood fragments rained down onto the concrete floor. Maria was coming through.
Leo didn't waste another second. He grabbed a heavy canvas tarp from the hook on the wall, slinging it over his shoulder, and sprinted toward the side garage door that led out to the driveway. As he threw the bolt and yanked the door open, the headlights of a dark sedan swept across the driveway, illuminating the parked vehicle of the conspirators who had come to finish the job.
A man stepped out from the driver’s side of the sedan—tall, broad-shouldered, wearing a dark jacket and a cap pulled low over his eyes. He froze, staring at Leo, who stood framed in the garage doorway holding a heavy circular saw.
""What the—"" the man started, reaching instinctively toward his coat.
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Leo didn't hesitate. He charged forward, sprinting past the astonished man toward the front entrance of the house, desperate to get back to the living room before Maria could intercept his father.
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