Chapter 6 - The Coal Tunnel Reconciliation
The coal tunnel was a relic of the late nineteenth century, a narrow, brick-lined tube that ran from the old boiler room beneath the main house out to the carriage house, which had been converted into a twenty-car garage for Dominic’s collection of classic vehicles. The air inside was thick with black dust that hung in the moisture, coating Fiona’s face and uniform within seconds.
Marco moved ahead with a heavy battery-powered lantern, his wrench clutched in his hand. Between them walked Arthur, his small hand locked inside Fiona’s grip with a desperate, white-knuckled pressure. He was wrapped in the green wool blanket, his breathing still shallow, but the vacant glaze in his eyes had been replaced by a sharp, terrified alertness.
"Fiona," Arthur whispered as they moved through the damp brick archway. "Is my dad coming home?"
"He's on his way right now, Arthur," Fiona said, leaning down as they walked to press her cheek against his temple. His skin was still too cool, but the shivering had stopped. "He knows everything. He knows about the Sandman, and he’s coming to make sure he never comes back."
"Did Victoria help the Sandman?" the boy asked, his voice cracking. "She told me if I didn't take the medicine, my dad would leave us like my mom did."
Fiona felt a fresh wave of fury crest through her veins. The psychological abuse had been just as calculated as the needles. Victoria hadn't just wanted the boy dead; she had wanted him to die believing his father had abandoned him to the dark.
"She lied to you, sweetie," Fiona said fiercely. "Your dad loves you more than anything in the world. That’s why he hired me. That’s why we’re going to the safe room right now."
"We’re almost there," Marco called back from the front, his lantern illuminating a heavy, riveted iron door at the end of the tunnel. The door was covered in a layer of ancient grease, its locking mechanism consisting of three massive steel deadbolts that had to be turned by hand.
Marco set the lantern down and reached for the top bolt, his muscles straining against the rusted iron. "This hasn't been opened since the feds tried to raid the place during the tobacco hearings in '94. Give me a hand, Miss Jenkins."
Fiona stepped forward, leaving Arthur in the shadow of the brick wall, and placed her hands next to Marco’s on the cold steel bar. Together, they threw their weight against the iron. With a horrible, screeching sound that echoed through the tunnel like a gunshot, the first bolt slid back into the frame.
Suddenly, from the darkness behind them, a familiar voice cut through the damp air.
"How touching," Victoria Costello said.
May you like
She stood twenty feet back in the tunnel, her silk robe ruined by the coal dust, her face illuminated by the bright blue beam of a high-powered tactical flashlight. But she wasn't alone. Behind her stood Dr. Harrison Reed, and next to him were three of the younger night guards, their automatic weapons drawn and leveled directly at Marco’s chest.
"I knew the old man was getting soft," Victoria said, stepping into the narrow light of Marco's lantern. "But I didn't think you’d commit suicide for a common nurse, Marco. Drop the wrench. Now."
