Chapter 8 - The Price of Freedom
The baying of the hounds echoed off the brick vaults, accompanied by the harsh shouting of men descending the stone stairs. Time had run out.
""Thomas!"" Ryan yelled, the desperation finally cracking through his composure. ""Those dogs will tear my son apart! You know what Eleanor is! She will never honor her promise to you! Once she has Leo, she will eliminate everyone who knows the truth about tonight!""
Thomas looked toward the darkness behind Ryan, where the savage barking grew louder by the second. The old man’s jaw tightened, his fingers trembling on the iron crowbar. The heavy, calculating gaze that had carried him through thirty years of Eleanor's reign seemed to crack under the weight of his own conscience.
""She’s a monster,"" Thomas whispered, his voice cracking.
""Then don't become one for her!"" Ryan pleaded, pointing back toward Clara, who was crouching in terror, shielding Leo’s ears from the ferocious barking.
A dog burst into the far end of the corridor, its red harness flashing in the darkness, teeth bared in a vicious snarl as it locked onto Clara’s scent.
Without another word, Thomas swung the heavy iron crowbar with all his remaining strength, driving the hooked end directly into the massive padlock securing the service tunnel grate. The old metal screamed in protest. With a sickening groan, the rusted bolt sheared off, and the heavy iron door swung open on screeching hinges.
""Go!"" Thomas roared, turning his body toward the charging hound. ""Take the storm drain down to the highway! There’s an old pickup parked beneath the bridge with the keys under the mat!""
""Thomas, come with us!"" Ryan shouted, grabbing Clara’s arm and shoving her into the black mouth of the tunnel.
""I’m an old man, Ryan! I won't survive the run!"" Thomas yelled, bracing his boots against the slippery stones, raising the crowbar high as the first hound launched itself through the air. ""Save your boy!""
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Ryan looked at the man who had been more of a father to him than any Sterling had ever been. ""Thank you,"" he breathed.
Ryan slammed the iron grate shut behind them, sliding the internal bolt just as the hounds collided with the bars. Gunshots rang out from the darkness of the cellar behind them.
