Chapter 10 - The Crimson Alarm
The piercing wail of the underground siren throbbed like a physical blow against Mark’s eardrums. Flashing crimson warning lights strobed wildly along the stone corridor, painting the horrifying display cases in blood-red hues. Mark sprinted forward, holding Lily tightly against his chest as the five-year-old cried out in terror from the deafening noise. Helen ran closely beside them, her breath coming in ragged, desperate gasps.
Behind them, Arthur’s angry roar echoed down the hallway. "You can't escape! This whole property is wired!"
Mark didn't look back. His eyes were fixed entirely on the heavy iron ventilation grate at the far end of the gallery, the one he had spotted earlier. It was roughly waist-high, held in place by four thick hexagonal bolts. If they didn't get that grate open before Arthur recovered his revolver and cut off the power, they would be trapped down here forever.
"Helen, use this!" Mark shouted over the blaring siren, reaching into his pocket with one hand while holding Lily with the other, pulling out a heavy metal pocket multi-tool. He tossed it to his wife. "The bolts! Unscrew the bottom two right now!"
Helen caught the tool on the fly, dropped to her knees on the damp concrete, and jammed the hexagonal bit onto the first rusted bolt. Her hands were shaking violently, skin scraping against the cold metal, but adrenaline fueled her movements. She twisted with all her might. The bolt groaned, protested, and finally spun loose with a sharp metallic snap.
"I got one!" Helen yelled over the siren, sweat pouring down her face as she scrambled to the second bolt.
From behind them came the heavy, rapid thud of boots hitting the stone floor. Arthur was charging down the corridor, bleeding slightly from a graze on his forearm where Helen had shoved him, his face twisted into a mask of pure, unadulterated fury. He had retrieved a heavy iron crowbar from a utility hook, dragging its jagged tip along the concrete floor and creating a shower of fiery sparks in the crimson light.
"You ungrateful little bitch!" Arthur screamed, closing the distance terrifyingly fast. "You're ruining everything I built!"
"Hurry, Helen!" Mark urged, positioning his body defensively between his wife and the advancing patriarch, ready to use his bare hands to fight off the heavy iron crowbar if it came down to it.
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Helen threw her entire body weight into the second bolt. It gave way with a loud clatter, falling onto the floor. She grabbed the rusted iron grate, pulled with all her might, and the heavy barrier popped outward into the dark shaft beyond, revealing a narrow, dust-choked escape tunnel leading upward into the night air.
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