Chapter 3 - Night Ride in the Cold
""She got to Arthur too,"" Amy breathed, clutching Leo tightly inside her coat as the chilly autumn wind swept across the estate courtyard. The baby’s whimpers had become weak and shallow. Panic clawed at her throat.
""Get in the old station wagon behind the shed,"" Julian said, his voice flat with adrenaline. ""It belonged to my late grandfather. The keys are always in the magnetic box beneath the chassis.""
Amy scrambled toward the rusty utility vehicle parked behind the manicured hedge while Julian sprinted to the tool shed. He found the spare keys, threw open the driver’s side door, and hotwired the sluggish ignition. The engine coughed violently, spitting exhaust before rumbling to life.
Behind them, the estate gates began to grind shut automatically—Eleanor had engaged the security lockdown from her tablet.
""Julian, the gate!"" Amy screamed.
Julian slammed his foot on the accelerator. The station wagon surged forward, tires chewing gravel. The iron gates were closing inward like a massive steel vice. With inches to spare, Julian clipped the lower hinge of the gate, sparking violently against the wrought iron before rocketing out onto the country highway.
In the rearview mirror, Eleanor stood on the terrace, backlit by the manor’s glowing chandelier, phone pressed to her ear.
May you like
Amy monitored Leo’s breathing with trembling fingers. ""Julian... he stopped crying. Why is he so quiet?""
Julian glanced down at his dashboard as the check engine light blinked red, followed by the sickening hiss of steam rising from the hood.
