Chapter 32 - The Blood on the Hoist
Catherine gasped, the decoy bundle flying from her arms as she slammed backward against the wooden wall. The woolen blanket unrolled across the wet planks, revealing nothing but empty fleece and a rolled-up towel.
Anthony’s smile vanished, replaced by an expression of demonic rage.
"A decoy?!" Anthony roared, stepping forward and kicking Catherine’s bleeding form across the dock. "Where is my son?! Where is he?!"
Catherine spat blood onto the toe of his leather boot. "Go... to... hell..."
From beneath the dock, I didn't wait for a signal.
"Khloe, stay down!" I yelled, driving the crowbar upward between the dock boards with all my strength.
The rotten wood splintered with a deafening crack. I lunged up through the gap, grabbing the guard’s ankle and twisting it hard. The guard lost his balance, his submachine gun discharging into the ceiling rafters as he crashed down onto the timber.
I scrambled through the opening, throwing all my weight onto the guard's chest, driving my fist into his throat. He gagged, his grip loosening on the weapon.
"Mark!" Anthony bellowed, reaching inside his coat for his own pistol.
A shadow flew through the side maintenance door.
Khloe didn't run away. She had Nathan zipped tightly into her coat, but her hands were free—and in both hands, she swung the heavy steel tire iron like a broadsword.
The steel collided with Anthony’s outstretched arm with a sickening *CRACK*.
Anthony screamed in agony, his pistol clattering across the wet boards and sliding straight between the cracks, splashing into the dark lake water below. He stumbled back, clutching his shattered wrist against his chest, staring at Khloe as if she were an apparition.
"You bitch!" Anthony shrieked, backing toward the hoist controls. "You think you've won?! If I don't get that child's marrow, none of us leave this mountain alive!"
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With his good hand, Anthony slammed down on the electric release lever of the ceiling hoist.
The heavy steel cable whined through the pulleys. The iron chair holding Isabella plummeted straight down toward the freezing, ten-foot-deep lake slip!
