Chapter 8 - The Escape
Z
The heavy bronze base connected with the back of Mark’s skull with a sickening crack. He let out a choked cry, dropping the revolver as he slumped forward, his body slipping halfway out the broken window before he collapsed onto the carpet, motionless.
I didn't stop to check his pulse.
I scooped Leo back into my arms, scooped up the revolver from the floor, and ran.
The hallway was filled with smoke from an electrical short triggered by the storm. Downstairs, the living room was silent. I reached the bottom of the staircase, stepping over Sarah, who was unconscious near the front door, her head bleeding from the fall.
Julian was nowhere to be seen.
"Mommy, the door!" Leo pointed.
I rushed to the front door, unlocked it, and threw it open, charging out into the blinding, freezing downpour. The rain slapped against my face, mixed with my tears and the blood dripping from the cut on my neck.
Our driveway was flooded with two inches of rushing water. I ran toward my station wagon, fumbling in my pocket for the keys.
"KATHRYN!"
A violent roar echoed from the side of the house.
Julian emerged from the darkness of the yard, his coat drenched, holding a long crowbar. His left arm hung uselessly at his side from the gunshot wound, but his face was twisted in psychotic rage.
"YOU CAN'T RUN!" Julian screamed, stomping through the mud toward us. "THAT MONEY BELONGS TO ME!"
I shoved Leo into the backseat of the car, slammed the door, and jumped into the driver's seat. My hands were shaking so violently I dropped the key fob twice on the floor mat.
Julian reached the car, smashing the crowbar against the driver's side window. The glass shattered inward, showering my face and arms with icy fragments.
"GIVE ME THE KEYS!" Julian shrieked, reaching his arm through the broken frame to grab my steering wheel.
I didn't argue. I didn't scream.
I picked up Sarah’s revolver from the passenger seat, pressed the barrel directly against Julian’s ribs through the shattered window, and pulled the trigger twice.
BANG! BANG!
Julian gasped, his eyes wide in absolute shock. He took two staggering steps backward into the mud, looked down at his chest, and then collapsed sideways into the flooded flowerbeds, motionless.
I shoved the key into the ignition, slammed the engine into reverse, and tore out of the driveway, tires screeching against the wet pavement.
As the car backed into the street, the headlights swept across the front porch of our house.
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Standing under the porch light, dripping with blood and rain, was Mark.
He was holding himself up against the doorframe, watching us leave. He didn't chase us. He didn't scream. He just stood there, wearing that same, quiet, private smile as the distant sound of police sirens began to wail through the night air.
