Chapter 7 - THE BURNING BRIDGE
Red and blue lights painted the rain-slicked highway in a terrifying, chaotic glow. Four police cruisers blocked the road ahead. Behind them, Arthur could see the headlights of Beatrice's black limousine rapidly approaching.
They were caught on a bridge with nowhere to turn.
"Arthur," Sam said, his hands gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were white. "Listen to me very carefully. You have the journal. You have the proof. But they don't know I have my phone."
Sam pulled a sleek, waterproof phone from his pocket. He had already opened a live video broadcast on a local news station's tip line.
"I've been live-streaming the audio since we were in the terminal," Sam said rapidly. "The station manager is an old client of mine. But audio isn't enough to stop the cops in front of us. We need a diversion so you can get past the barricade and hand that journal to the state troopers waiting on the other side of the county line."
"I am not leaving you behind to take the fall!" Arthur yelled.
"It's not about me!" Sam shouted back, his voice cracking with emotion. "It's about Lily! If Beatrice gets her hands on that little girl, her life is over! You promised David you would protect her. This is how you do it!"
Arthur looked at Lily. She was clutching the dashboard, her tiny face pale with fright. He knew Sam was right.
"What's the plan?" Arthur asked, his voice hardening into steel.
"I'm going to ram the barricade on the right side," Sam said. "The moment we hit, the truck will stall. You grab Lily, grab the journal, and you run into the woods by the riverbank. Do not look back."
Arthur grabbed the thick leather journal and tucked it into his shirt. He pulled Lily tight against his chest, wrapping her securely in his arms. "Hold on tight, monkey," he whispered, kissing her head.
"Here we go!" Sam yelled.
He slammed his foot on the accelerator. The heavy pickup truck roared forward, tires spinning on the wet asphalt. The police officers at the barricade scrambled out of the way, drawing their weapons.
CRASH!
The truck smashed into the right-side cruiser, metal crunching and glass shattering in a deafening roar. The airbags deployed instantly, filling the cab with white smoke.
Arthur’s head slammed against the headrest, but the adrenaline masked the pain. He kicked his door open.
"Go! Go!" Sam coughed through the smoke, shoving the GPS tracker into his own pocket to draw the pursuers toward him.
Arthur didn't hesitate. He leaped out of the truck and sprinted toward the guardrail. He vaulted over it, sliding down the steep, muddy embankment into the dense woods below the bridge.
He heard shouts above him. Flashlight beams cut through the trees like searchlights.
"Find the old man!" Beatrice’s voice shrieked from the bridge. "Shoot him if you have to! Just get the child!"
Arthur ran through the dark, thorny brush. Branches tore at his clothes and scratched his face, but he didn't feel it. He only felt the steady, rapid heartbeat of his granddaughter against his chest.
They reached the edge of the river. The water was fast and freezing. There was a small, dilapidated boathouse a few yards away. Arthur ran inside, hiding behind a pile of old rotting canoes.
He covered Lily’s mouth gently. "Shhh," he breathed.
Footsteps crunched on the gravel outside. The beam of a flashlight swept through the cracks in the wooden walls.
"He’s got nowhere to go!" one of the men yelled. "Check the boathouse!"
The heavy wooden door creaked open. The man in the charcoal coat stepped inside, his revolver drawn. He moved slowly, checking behind every crate.
Arthur squeezed his eyes shut, holding his breath. He prepared himself to jump out and take the bullet if it meant Lily could run.
The man stepped closer. He raised his flashlight over the canoes.
Suddenly, a blinding spotlight hit the boathouse from the river. A deafening police siren—different from the local cops—blared through the night.
"STATE POLICE! DROP YOUR WEAPON!" a voice boomed through a megaphone.
The man in the charcoal coat froze.
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Arthur looked down. Lily wasn't just holding onto his shirt. In her tiny hands, she was holding Sam's waterproof phone. She had pressed the bright red 'SOS' button on the screen, sending their exact GPS coordinates directly to the state troopers.
"Grandpa," Lily whispered, a small, brave smile on her face. "The good guys are here."
