Chapter 4 - The Escape
The pain was an old acquaintance. Adrian had endured broken ribs in solitary confinement and stab wounds in prison yards, but hauling his battered body upright while cradling a twenty-eight-pound toddler was a different trial altogether. Every breath pulled at eighteen fresh surgical staples running along his flank.
Elena draped Adrian’s heavy leather riding jacket over his shoulders, carefully zipping Mia inside the lining so only the child’s nose and eyes peeked out. Mia stirred, letting out a sleepy whimper.
"Shh, little bird," Adrian murmured, his large hand supporting her neck through the leather. "Uncle's got you. Just night games. Go back to sleep."
Miraculously, lulled by the familiar deep vibration of his chest, Mia closed her eyes again.
They took the service elevator down to the basement laundry facility. Elena led the way, checking corners with the cautious grace of someone who had spent the last two days living on adrenaline. The laundry dock opened into a damp, mist-choked alley behind Saint Jude’s Memorial. Rain fell in fine, silver needles, cooling the fever burning across Adrian’s skin.
Waiting beside the dumpster was a battered, primer-gray station wagon—an old contact of Adrian’s from the docks who asked no questions and took payment in cash.
"Where can we possibly go?" Elena whispered as she climbed into the passenger seat, locking the doors immediately. "The city limits will have highway patrol alerts by morning."
Adrian settled into the back seat, keeping Mia firmly secured against his chest. His breathing was shallow, sweat beading across his forehead as internal bleeding threatened to reopen.
"Out of the grid," Adrian said, his head resting against the cold window glass. "To the Blackwood ridge. The cabin Julian and I built before everything went to hell."
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"Sterling knows about Blackwood," Elena warned.
"He knows it exists," Adrian replied, his voice fading slightly as the exhaustion surged back. "He doesn't know how to survive it."
