Chapter 5 - The Delivery Van
The storm outside the Hammond industrial park was a wall of gray water. The wind howled through the high chain-link fences, whipping cold rain into Claire’s face like needles.
She couldn't see more than ten feet in front of her. Her right shoe had been lost somewhere in the scramble through the service corridor, her bare nylon-covered foot slamming against jagged asphalt and freezing puddles with every step. Her left cheek was throbbing violently where one of Cross's men had struck her during the initial ambush, and her vision was swimming with dark spots.
Keep moving, her mind screamed. Keep moving. 28 miles to the city. 28 miles.
Ahead of her in the dimly lit loading bay sat a white, unmarked delivery truck, its rear doors wide open, idling under a flickering halogen lamp. The exhaust fumes curled into the cold air like gray ghosts.
"There she is!" a voice shouted from behind her.
Claire glanced back. Two men were running out of the facility entrance, their weapons raised.
She didn't try to hide. She knew she couldn't outrun bullets, and she couldn't outrun men on foot while carrying a child in her arms. She ran straight toward the loading bay's main control panel mounted on a yellow steel pillar near the truck.
She smashed her palm against the red button labeled Fire Suppression / Foam Delivery.
Instantly, high-pressure industrial nozzles mounted along the ceiling exploded into life, spewing thick, blinding clouds of white chemical foam and cold water across the entire bay floor. The floor turned into a frictionless ice rink within seconds.
The two pursuers violently lost their footing, crashing hard onto the slick concrete, their weapons skittering away into the white froth.
Claire scrambled into the cab of the idling delivery truck, slamming the heavy door shut and pulling the lock down. The engine was running. The keys were in the ignition.
She placed Eli carefully on the passenger seat, wrapping her body over him as a hail of hand-gun fire shattered the driver-side mirror and spider-webbed the thick glass of the windshield.
"Hold on, Eli," she sobbed, throwing the heavy gear shift into reverse.
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She slammed her foot onto the accelerator. The heavy vehicle roared, its massive rear tires spinning against the foam before catching raw asphalt. The truck surged backward, smashing straight through the temporary security gate, tearing the chain-link fence from its posts with a deafening metallic screech.
She threw the lever into drive, spun the wheel, and drove out into the blinding blackness of the Indiana highway, leaving the burning warehouse behind.
