Chapter 8 - Locked Below
The lights went out.
For three seconds, the basement was completely black.
Then the laptop screen dimmed to battery power.
Marcus crossed to the vault door and pulled the emergency lever.
Nothing.
“Electronic lock?” I asked.
“Mechanical override should still work.”
He pulled harder.
Still nothing.
My phone had no signal underground.
The air system hummed, then stopped.
Someone had trapped us.
Marcus opened the laptop and searched the vault schematics. “There used to be a maintenance crawlspace.”
“Used to be?”
“Your father remodeled.”
“Of course he did.”
We found the old vent behind a cabinet. Marcus kicked through the thin metal panel and crawled inside first.
I looked at the brace.
There was no way I was fitting through with my leg locked straight.
“Take it off,” Marcus said.
“Keller said—”
“Keller also took fifty grand to keep you dependent.”
Fair point.
My hands shook as I reached for the metal release Lily had pressed.
I pushed it.
Click.
The side shell opened.
No alarm. No resistance. No catastrophe.
I loosened the straps and lifted my leg free for the first time in months.
Pain shot through my knee.
Then something stranger happened.
I bent it.
Not far.
But I bent it.
Marcus stared.
“You were told you couldn't do that.”
“I was told I might destroy the joint.”
“You just moved thirty degrees.”
Anger gave me balance.
I crawled through the vent.
We emerged into an old wine corridor and climbed toward the service level. Halfway up the stairs, I heard footsteps above us.
Marcus raised one hand.
A shadow crossed the landing.
Owen stepped into view holding a pistol.
He looked more ashamed than dangerous.
“Don't,” Marcus warned.
Owen pointed the gun down.
“I'm not here to hurt him.”
“You tried to grab his daughter.”
“I was trying to get her out.”
“From what?” I asked.
Owen looked past me toward the basement.
May you like
“From the fire.”
A second later, an explosion shook the floor beneath us.
