Chapter 7 - THE CATACOMBS
The air in the tunnels was freezing, smelling of ancient dirt and stagnant water.
I held Sofia’s hand tightly, using the flashlight on my phone to cut a narrow beam through the absolute darkness. Above us, the muffled, terrifying sounds of gunfire echoed through the stone ceiling.
“Is Uncle Marco going to be okay?” Sofia whimpered, stumbling over a loose brick.
“He’s very brave, sweetie,” I lied, swallowing back a sob. “He’s keeping the bad men away so we can go home.”
We ran through the labyrinth of arched brick corridors. The prohibition-era tunnels were a maze, stretching endlessly under the city. I had no idea where we were going. I just knew we had to keep moving.
My phone vibrated in my pocket.
I pulled it out, shining the light on the screen. It was Vincent.
“Rachel!” Vincent’s voice cracked over the poor reception. “Did you find them?”
“We’re in the tunnels under the chapel!” I yelled, running while holding the phone to my ear. “Carmine’s men found us! Marco stayed behind to hold them off!”
Vincent let out a sound of pure anguish. “Where does the tunnel lead?”
“I don't know! It’s pitch black!”
“Keep heading north,” Vincent ordered, his voice shifting from a panicked father to a cold, calculating boss. “The main tunnel empties out into an old subway maintenance shaft on 14th Street. I’m leaving the estate right now. I’ll meet you there.”
“What about Carmine?”
“He’s gone,” Vincent said, his voice laced with venom. “He slipped away during the luncheon. He’s coming to finish the job himself.”
The line went dead.
I shoved the phone into my pocket and picked up Sofia, carrying her to move faster. She buried her face in my neck, crying silently.
We ran for what felt like miles. My lungs burned, and my arms ached from Sofia’s weight.
Finally, the brick walls gave way to rusted steel beams. Ahead, a faint gray light spilled through a heavy metal door. The maintenance shaft.
I set Sofia down and pushed the heavy door open.
We stepped out into a massive, echoing concrete subway tunnel. The distant rumble of a train vibrated through the floor.
“We made it,” I panted, leaning against the cold concrete.
But as I looked toward the access ladder leading up to the street, a figure stepped out from the shadows.
It wasn't Vincent.
It was Carmine.
He was holding a suppressed pistol, his warm, grandfatherly smile entirely gone. Behind him stood two massive enforcers.
“You put up a good fight for a maid, Rachel,” Carmine said smoothly, his voice echoing off the concrete walls. “But this is family business. Step away from the girl.”
I pushed Sofia behind me, raising Marco’s heavy pistol with shaking hands.
“Don't come any closer,” I warned, my voice cracking.
Carmine laughed—a dry, cruel sound. “You don't even have the safety off, sweetheart.”
I frantically looked down, fumbling with the switch.
In that split second, one of Carmine’s enforcers lunged forward, slapping the gun out of my hand. It clattered uselessly onto the tracks.
The enforcer grabbed my hair, throwing me violently against the concrete wall. My vision exploded into white stars. I slumped to the ground, gasping for air.
“No!” Sofia screamed.
Carmine walked up to the terrified little girl. He reached down and gently touched the silver necklace he had given her earlier—the one that had belonged to Elena.
“It’s a shame, really,” Carmine sighed. “You have your mother’s eyes, Sofia.”
He raised the pistol, pointing it directly at the eight-year-old girl.
“Hey, Carmine!” a voice roared through the tunnel.
May you like
Carmine spun around.
Standing at the top of the access stairs, completely alone and unarmed, was Vincent.
