Chapter 9 - The Confrontation at the Warehouse
Ten minutes later, the truck veered off the paved highway and onto a dusty gravel access road behind the old shipping warehouses near the river. A single white van with tinted windows was parked near the loading dock of an abandoned brick warehouse.
Eric slammed on the brakes, throwing the truck into park before it even came to a complete stop. We flung open the doors and leaped out.
From behind the van, a figure emerged, dragging a kicking, screaming child while another person held my mother by the arm against the side of the building.
“Lucy!” Eric screamed, breaking into a full sprint.
The accomplice holding Lucy froze, looking back toward the van in panic as Eric charged forward like a freight train. Before the person could react, Eric tackled them to the gravel, sending both bodies rolling across the dirt.
Uncle Dave went straight for the second person holding my mother, using his massive frame to shove them away from Mom and pin them against the brick wall with a resounding thud.
I rushed past them, dropping to my knees as Lucy broke free from the scuffle and came running toward me with her arms outstretched.
“Aunt Claire!” she sobbed, throwing her arms around my neck so hard we both tumbled backward onto the grass.
“I’ve got you, sweetheart. I’ve got you,” I whispered, burying my face in her hair, checking her over frantically to make sure she wasn't hurt. She was shaking from head to toe, her white dress stained with dirt and grass, but she was safe.
Mom stumbled over, catching her breath, her face bruised on one cheek where she had been shoved, but her eyes sharp and fierce. “Claire... are you okay? They ambushed us at the store parking lot, pulled us into a secondary van—I tried to fight them off—”
“You did amazing, Mom,” I said, helping her stand while Uncle Dave kept the two hired accomplices subdued on the ground with the help of a zip-tie he had grabbed from the truck bed.
Across the gravel lot, Eric was pinning the primary accomplice to the hood of the white van, breathing heavily, his knuckles bleeding from the gravel impact. “Where is she? Who hired you?”
Before the man could answer, the whine of a high-performance engine echoed down the access road. A sleek black sedan came tearing around the corner of the warehouse, tires screeching as it drifted sideways across the dirt lot.
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The passenger door flew open before the car even stopped. Vanessa leaped out, holding a heavy metal pipe she must have found in the kitchen before breaking out of the pantry, her face twisted in an ugly mask of pure rage.
“You ruin everything!” Vanessa shrieked, charging straight toward us with the pipe raised high above her head.
