Chapter 2 - The Escape into the Fog
The guards moved with terrifying speed.
The first guard lunged up the wooden steps, reaching out with a massive, gloved hand to grab Nell’s arm. Arthur’s instincts took over before his rational mind could process the danger. He lunged forward, throwing his entire body weight into the man’s chest.
THUD!
The guard stumbled backward, slipping on the icy porch steps and crashing into his partner.
"Run!" Arthur yelled, grabbing Nell and Nora by their hands. "Inside! Now!"
Arthur shoved the girls back into the living room, slammed the thick wooden door shut, and threw the iron deadbolt just as a heavy shoulder slammed against the outside panel. The door groaned under the force, dust raining down from the frame.
"Arthur, what do we do?!" Nell cried, holding Nora, who was weeping uncontrollably.
"The back door!" Arthur gasped, his chest aching violently as his heart hammered against his ribs. "To the alley!"
He rushed the girls down the narrow hallway, past his small kitchen, to the rear service door that opened onto a narrow alleyway shared by the houses on Juniper Street. He grabbed his worn canvas duffel bag from the closet—the one he kept packed with his medical records and basic emergency supplies—and threw the back door open.
The cold alley was filled with dense, soup-like fog.
"Hold my hands and don't let go, no matter what you hear," Arthur commanded, kneeling down to look both girls in the eyes. "Do you trust me?"
Nell looked at Arthur’s pale, sweat-beaded face. She nodded fiercely. "Yes."
"Let's go."
They ran into the fog. The snow muffles sound, but behind them, the sound of splintering wood echoed through the air as Harrison’s guards kicked through the front door of Arthur's home.
BANG!
"Check the back!" a harsh voice yelled from the yard. "They went down the service lane!"
Arthur pushed through the deep slush, half-dragging, half-carrying the two five-year-olds as they navigated the maze of alleyways behind Juniper Street. His lungs burned like fire, every breath tasting of frost and copper. His heart pounded irregularly, a sharp, stabbing pain radiating down his left arm. He reached into his coat, pulled out a small nitroglycerin bottle, popped two pills under his tongue, and forced himself to keep moving.
I can't stop, he thought wildly. If I stop, they die.
They burst out onto 4th Avenue, a busier commercial street lined with closed storefronts, red-brick tenements, and the faint glow of streetlights cutting through the mist. Across the street, an old diesel city bus was idling at a bus stop, its doors open, exhaust fumes curling up into the freezing night.
"Come on!" Arthur gasped.
They dashed across the slippery road just as the bus driver was reaching for the door lever. Arthur threw himself onto the folding steps, shoving the girls inside before him.
"Wait! Please!" Arthur panted, slapping three twenty-dollar bills onto the fare box. "Just drive!"
The bus driver—a tired, middle-aged man with a thermos of coffee—looked at the pale, disheveled professor, the two terrified twin girls clinging to his legs, and then glanced at the alley across the street. Two tall men in dark coats burst out of the fog, sprinting toward the bus with drawn handguns hidden beneath their lapels.
The driver’s eyes widened. He didn't ask a single question. He slammed his foot onto the accelerator, swung the heavy doors shut, and the bus roared away into the gray fog just as the lead guard reached the curb, cursing furiously into a radio.
Arthur collapsed onto a vinyl seat near the back of the bus, pulling Nell and Nora into his lap, wrapping his arms around them tightly.
"We made it..." Nora whimpered, burying her nose into Arthur’s sweater.
"We're safe for now," Arthur whispered, resting his chin on Nell's soft brown hair, his body trembling violently from adrenaline and exhaustion.
He looked out the rear window of the bus as the city melted into a blur of gray snow and shadows. He had abandoned his home, his books, his quiet life, and everything he owned. He was a fugitive on the run with two heiresses to a billionaire's empire, chased by armed mercenaries and a man who owned the city.
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He had no money, no plan, and a failing heart.
And yet, as Nell reached up and gently wiped a bead of cold sweat from his forehead, Arthur knew he had never been more certain of anything in his life.
