Chapter 7: Breaking the Gates
The heavy iron gates of the Vance estate loomed ahead like the bars of a giant cage, locked tight with a heavy brass padlock and thick steel chains. Clara gripped the steering wheel of Marcus’s luxury sedan, her small body barely tall enough to see over the dashboard, but her focus was absolute. In the rearview mirror, the headlights of another vehicle—Julian’s personal SUV—swept across the gravel drive as the two men rallied from their initial shock and gave chase.
There was no time to stop and search for gate keys. Clara slammed her foot down firmly on the accelerator. The high-powered sedan surged forward, its heavy reinforced bumper aimed squarely at the center of the iron junction. With a deafening screech of rending metal and snapping chains, the vehicle smashed through the gates, sending heavy iron bars flying into the dark woods on either side of the private road.
The impact threw Clara forward against the steering wheel, knocking the wind from her lungs, but the car kept moving, tearing out onto the narrow county highway that wound through the dense pine forests. Rain poured relentlessly from the black sky, turning the asphalt into a slick, reflective ribbon. Clara struggled to keep the heavy vehicle centered in the lane, her arms aching from the physical effort of turning the steering wheel against the powerful steering mechanism.
Behind her, Julian’s SUV roared through the shattered gates, its high beams cutting aggressively through the sheets of rain. The gap between the two vehicles began to close rapidly as Julian pushed his vehicle to dangerous speeds along the winding mountain road. Clara glanced in the rearview mirror, her stomach tightening with dread as she saw the massive dark silhouette of the SUV looming inches from her rear bumper.
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Julian flashed his high beams blindingly, trying to disorient the child and force her off the road into the steep ravine that dropped away into the rocky river canyon below. Clara’s hands turned white on the steering wheel. She knew every curve of this road; she and Eleanor had driven it every Sunday on their way to the village bakery. Trusting her instincts over the panic screaming in her mind, she held her nerve as the road curved sharply to the left.
As Julian attempted to execute a dangerous passing maneuver on the blind curve, Clara eased off the gas just enough to let the heavier SUV overshoot its trajectory. Julian’s vehicle fishtailed violently on the slick asphalt, its tires smoking as it slammed sideways into a thick stand of pine trees, snapping a small trunk before coming to a violent halt. Clara didn't look back. She pressed the accelerator down to the floorboards, hurtling through the storm toward the safety of the village police station.
