Chapter 3 - One Step
The iron ring scraped against the trapdoor.
I scooped Emma into my arms.
Lorenzo pointed toward the far wall.
A narrow steel door stood behind a shelf.
“Service passage,” he whispered.
“You knew about that?”
“My father talked about a second way out.”
He tried to stand and nearly folded in half.
I caught him.
The trapdoor lifted an inch.
Light cut across the top stair.
I slid the inner bolt into place just as someone pulled harder.
“Locked from underneath!”
Lorenzo reached for his gun.
I looked at Emma.
He stopped.
“Give it to me,” I said.
His eyes sharpened.
“So you can barely stay conscious and wave it around?”
After a second, he handed it over.
I put it high on a shelf, beyond Emma’s reach.
We needed hands for carrying, not shooting.
A fist hammered the trapdoor.
“Nora!”
Marco.
“I know you’re down there. Open it.”
Lorenzo’s face changed.
I grabbed the recorder’s labeled drive, wrapped its cord around it, and shoved it into my uniform pocket. Then I took the small ledger lying beside it.
Marco struck the wood again.
“You’re making a mistake.”
I pushed the shelf away from the steel door.
It opened into damp darkness.
Emma clung to my neck.
“I don’t like the downstairs.”
“I know.”
“Can we go home?”
“We’re working on that.”
I got Lorenzo through the doorway. The passage beyond was barely wide enough for two people.
Behind us, wood cracked.
Marco called again.
“Bring out the little girl, Nora. Nobody needs to get scared.”
Emma raised her head.
“Is he helping?”
“No, baby.”
I hated how fast I answered.
We reached another door, this one swollen in its frame.
Lorenzo braced his shoulder against it.
It didn’t move.
The crash behind us told me the trapdoor had given way.
Men shouted in the vault.
I set Emma down between my feet.
“Stay touching Mama.”
Together, Lorenzo and I pushed.
The door burst open into a cluttered cellar.
He fell hard against a stack of crates.
I dragged the door shut.
There was no lock.
Only a rusted hook.
I dropped it into place.
Lorenzo slid to the floor, leaving a dark smear on the wood.
His eyes closed.
“Hey.” I tapped his face. “Stay with me.”
Nothing.
May you like
From the passage came approaching footsteps.
Then Marco said, almost gently, “There’s nowhere left to go.”
