Chapter 5 - The Blocked Route
The distant rumble of a train whistle filtered through the walls, faint but unmistakable. It was the sound of escape routes being permanently severed. Clara gripped the wooden floorboards so hard her knuckles turned chalk-white, the physical agony of her labor blending seamlessly with the crushing weight of the betrayal closing in around her.
"The ambulance is stuck?" Clara whispered, her voice barely audible over the hum of the refrigerator in the nearby kitchen. "How long will it take them to get around the bypass?"
"At least forty minutes," Officer Vance replied, standing up to his full height and pacing toward the living room archway. "Unless someone has a key to the back service road behind the subdivision gate."
Martha let out a sharp, cynical laugh from her spot on the floor. "The gate requires a digital pass code, Officer. And Leo changed the master override password at midnight. Nobody gets in or out without his biometric authorization."
Clara propped herself up on her elbows, her breath coming in ragged, shallow gasps. "There has to be another way out. What about the alley behind the detached garage?"
"Blocked by a fallen oak tree," Martha said casually, pulling a small silver nail file from her pocket and beginning to shape her fingernails as if they were sitting in a peaceful suburban living room rather than a crime scene. "I checked it during my morning walk. Conveniently felled by last night's storm, right across the exit."
Officer Vance stopped pacing and turned back toward them, his eyes narrowing as he looked between the two women. "You seem awfully prepared for this disaster, Martha. Almost as if you knew Leo was going to pull the rug out from under her."
"I gave birth to him, detective," Martha replied without looking up from her nails. "I know when a rat smells smoke, and I know when he's about to gnaw his way through the wall to save his own skin. The real question is why you're standing around asking questions instead of delivering your future nieces or nephews."
Clara let out a muffled cry, her body arching off the floor as a prolonged contraction forced another wave of pressure downward. "I can't... I can't wait forty minutes. They're coming now."
"Then we do it here," Vance said, stepping back toward them and unzipping his heavy utility jacket. "Martha, grab those spare towels from the linen closet down the hall. Clara, look at me and stay awake."
"I don't want to stay awake," Clara sobbed, her vision darkening at the edges. "I want him to be here."
May you like
"He's never going to be here," Martha muttered, rising slowly to her feet and walking toward the dark hallway with a cold smile. "And neither is the key to that front door."
---
