Chapter 7 - The Chase in the Tunnels
The service tunnel was narrow and wet, the walls lined with heavy electrical conduits and water pipes. The sound of our running footsteps echoed off the concrete, punctuated by Lily’s soft, frightened gasps.
"How far does this go?" Clara asked, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps as she struggled to keep pace.
"It connects to the Orange Line at State Street," I said, my chest burning with every step. My ribs felt like they were rubbing together with every movement, but I couldn't stop. "Once we’re on the platform, we can blend into the crowd. Vincent’s men won't risk a public shootout in a crowded subway station."
Suddenly, a loud bang echoed from the tunnel behind us.
"Dominic!" Vincent’s voice boomed through the narrow passage, distorted by the concrete walls. "You can't run forever! The city is mine! I have the transit authority, the police, the docks! You have nothing but a waitress and a brat!"
"Don't look back," I whispered to Clara. "Just keep running."
We reached a heavy metal door with a red "EXIT" sign glowing above it. I pushed it open, and we stepped onto the maintenance catwalk overlooking the active subway tracks.
Below us, the massive silver train of the Orange Line was screeching to a halt at the platform, its headlamps cutting through the dark tunnel. The platform was crowded with morning commuters, their faces buried in their phones or newspapers.
"We have to jump down to the platform," I said, looking at the ten-foot drop. "I’ll go first. I’ll catch Lily, then you."
I lowered myself over the metal railing, my muscles screaming in protest as I dropped onto the concrete platform. The impact sent a wave of blinding pain through my chest, but I stood up, holding my arms out.
"Lily, jump!" I called out.
The little girl didn't hesitate. She closed her eyes and dropped into my arms. I caught her, hissing in pain as her weight hit my fractured ribs, and set her down gently behind a concrete pillar.
"Clara, come on!"
Clara climbed over the railing, her face pale with fear as she looked at the drop.
Before she could jump, the door at the top of the catwalk burst open. Vincent stepped out, his face twisted in a mask of pure, murderous rage. He pointed his gun directly at Clara.
"Drop the ledger, Clara!" Vincent shouted. "Or I swear to God, I'll put a bullet in your head right here!"
Clara looked down at me, then at the ledger in her hand. For a second, I thought she was going to throw it to him to save herself.
Instead, she looked Vincent directly in the eye, took the black leather book, and tossed it over the railing toward me.
"Catch!" she screamed.
I caught the ledger, but the distraction was all Vincent needed. He fired.
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The bullet struck Clara in the shoulder, spinning her around. She let out a sharp cry of pain and fell over the railing, tumbling onto the concrete platform below.
"Clara!" I roared.
