Chapter 7 - THE LAKESIDE PURSUIT
The boat cut through the dark water,
leaving a white wake behind us.
I kept the throttle open,
the wind whipping my hair across my face.
Lorenzo was slumped against the passenger seat,
his breathing shallow and ragged.
I looked back and saw two smaller boats following us,
their engines whining in the night.
Bullets began to hit the water around us,
splashing up into the air.
“Get down!”
I screamed,
though Lorenzo couldn't hear me.
I ducked behind the console,
steering with one hand while holding Leo with the other.
The attackers were gaining on us,
their boats lighter and faster.
I saw a bridge ahead,
a low concrete structure that spanned the narrowest part of the lake.
If I could get under it,
I might be able to lose them in the shadows of the pillars.
I headed for the center arch,
the boat rocking violently as I hit the wake of the other craft.
A bullet shattered the windshield,
sending shards of glass flying into the air.
I felt a sting on my cheek,
but I didn't slow down.
We shot under the bridge,
the darkness engulfing us.
I cut the engine,
letting the boat drift into a dense patch of reeds near the bank.
The following boats roared past,
their searchlights missing us by inches.
I held my breath,
my heart pounding against my ribs.
Leo woke up and started to cry,
a small,
hungry sound.
I quickly pressed him to my chest,
muffling the noise.
The sound of the other boats faded into the distance,
leaving us in a heavy,
dripping silence.
I looked at Lorenzo,
his face pale in the moonlight.
“Lorenzo,”
I whispered,
shaking his shoulder.
He didn't move.
I checked his pulse,
finding it weak but steady.
He was in shock,
losing too much blood.
I had to get him help,
but I couldn't go back to the mansion.
I saw a small cabin on the far side of the lake,
a light flickering in the window.
It was my only hope.
I restarted the engine at a crawl,
moving toward the shore.
I reached the small dock,
tying the boat up with trembling hands.
I helped Lorenzo out of the boat,
his body a dead weight.
I dragged him up the path toward the cabin,
the grass slippery with rain.
I reached the door and pounded on it with all my strength.
“Help!”
I cried.
“Please,
help us!”
The door opened,
revealing an old man with a shotgun and a curious expression.
“Who are you?”
he asked,
looking at the blood-soaked man at my feet.
“We were in an accident,”
I lied,
gasped for air.
May you like
“Please,
he’s dying.”
