SHE LOCKED US IN WITH A MONSTER

“Dad,” Salvatore breathed, the word sounding like a curse.

“Turn the car off, Anthony,” the ancient voice commanded through the radio. “If you try to run, my men will shred that vehicle. You will all die before you reach the end of the block.”

Anthony looked at the dozen rifles aimed at our windshield. Slowly, he reached over and turned the ignition off.

“Bring me the ring, Salvatore,” his father’s voice continued. “Bring me the key, and I will give the nurse the antidote for you and your mother. Refuse, and I will let you both expire on the street.”

Salvatore looked at me. His skin was pale gray.

“Don’t do it,” I whispered. “If he gets the ledger, he kills us all anyway.”

“He’s right, Sal,” Anthony said, drawing his handgun. “We fight our way out.”

“No.” Salvatore unbuckled his seatbelt. “Rosa won’t survive a shootout. Neither will I.”

He looked at me, reaching into his pocket. He pulled out the gold ring containing the wooden bead.

He didn’t keep it. He grabbed my hand and pressed the ring into my palm, curling my fingers tightly around it.

“Hide it,” he whispered urgently.

“Salvatore, what are you doing?”

“I’m buying you time.” He opened the car door. “When the shooting starts, you run into the church. You find the altar. You save my mother.”

Before I could stop him, Salvatore stepped out of the SUV into the pouring rain.

He walked slowly, heavily, toward the steps of the cathedral.

Paul stepped forward, holding his hand out. “Give me the key, Dad.”

Salvatore stopped ten feet away. He looked at his oldest son with nothing but pity.

“Where is he?” Salvatore demanded loudly.

The tinted window of the center van rolled down.

An old man, frail but radiating pure malevolence, sat in the back seat. He was hooked to an oxygen tank, but his eyes were sharp and predatory.

“You look terrible, my boy,” the grandfather rasped.

“You murdered my wife,” Salvatore said, his voice carrying over the rain.

“Anna was a thief,” his father replied smoothly. “She stole my life’s work. That ledger contains the formula for cellular regeneration. I built an empire on it. And she thought she could bury it in a church.”

“She buried it to protect me.”

“She delayed the inevitable. Give Paul the key.”

Salvatore raised his hands, showing they were empty.

“I don’t have it.”

The grandfather’s eyes narrowed. “Where is it?”

“I swallowed it,” Salvatore lied smoothly, a defiant, bloody smile spreading across his face. “If you want it, old man, you’re going to have to cut me open.”

The grandfather stared at him for a long, terrible moment.

Then, he sighed.

“Kill him,” the grandfather ordered. “Cut him open. Bring me the key.”

Paul raised his handgun, aiming it directly at his father’s chest.