Chapter 14 - The Drainage Pipeline
The violent rattle of the shed door shook the entire wooden structure. Outside, the deep, guttural barking of the Dobermans reached a fever pitch, their claws scratching frantically against the bottom of the rotting timber.
"They're breaking through!" Helen gasped, pressing her weight against the rear wall to keep the old boards from splintering inward.
Mark didn't hesitate. He jammed the heavy bolt cutters into the rusted latch of the floor drainage hatch, twisting the tool until the rusted padlock snapped with a sharp clack. He flung the iron hatch open, revealing a dark, circular concrete pipe that sloped downward into the earth, carrying the faint sound of rushing water from somewhere near the front gate.
"Down! Into the pipe, now!" Mark commanded, lifting Lily and lowering her carefully into the cool, rushing water below. The little girl didn't hesitate, scrambling forward into the concrete tunnel without a sound.
Helen dropped in right after her, her hands splashing into the shallow, steady stream of rainwater that lined the bottom of the conduit.
As Mark prepared to follow, the wooden door of the shed burst inward with a deafening crash. Splintered timber flew across the room as Arthur stepped through the threshold, flanked by two massive, snarling Dobermans straining against their leather leashes. Arthur’s face was twisted into a mask of pure, murderous rage, his eyes locked directly onto Mark.
"You aren't going anywhere, Mark!" Arthur roared, dropping the leashes and unholstering a heavy hunting knife from his belt.
The dogs lunged forward with bared teeth, saliva flying from their jaws as they sprinted across the shed floor.
With a surge of adrenaline, Mark threw himself backward into the drainage hatch, pulling the heavy iron lid shut just as the leading Doberman slammed its paws against the underside of the closing metal. Mark slammed his boots upward with all his might, locking the heavy latch from the inside just as Arthur’s knife blade scraped uselessly across the top of the hatch.
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Pitch-black darkness enveloped Mark as he slid down the slippery concrete incline of the pipeline, rushing headfirst through the rushing water toward the distant pinprick of light at the edge of the property. Behind him, the muffled sound of Arthur screaming curses into the metal pipe faded away into the rushing roar of the underground stream.
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