Chapter 109 - The Water Below
"The gates are failing!" Vance shouted, the roar of the incoming river drowning out everything else. He grabbed Julian by the collar and dragged him toward the elevated masonry ledge beneath the surveyor's mark.
The water in the vault surged from our ankles to our waists in less than ten seconds, freezing cold, black, and violent with churning debris. Rotted timber, discarded machinery parts, and chunks of fractured concrete tumbled through the torrent.
On the stairs above, Melissa had lost her footing. The recoil of the blast and the bullet wound in her shoulder had knocked her off balance; she slid down the slick iron steps, her shotgun tumbling into the black water below and vanishing into the current.
She hit the flooded floor of the vault, screaming as the icy river caught her waist. "Katherine! Help me! The current's got my legs!"
She clawed at the iron railing of the staircase, but the rush of water pouring from the severed sluice was creating a massive suction toward the drainage grates at the far end of the room—a series of rusted iron bars that led straight down into the deep, churning abyss of the lower river.
I didn't think about Easter morning. I didn't think about the ruined dress, the lies, the forged deeds, or the sniper fire on the ridge.
I reached out, my fingers locking around Melissa’s wrist just as her fingers slipped from the rail.
"Hold on to me!" I screamed through the spray.
The force of the river pulling on her body nearly ripped my arm from its socket. Melissa looked up at me, her face pale as lard, her manic rage washed away by pure, animal terror. Her fingernails dug into the meat of my forearm, tearing through the wet fabric of my sleeve.
"Katherine... don't let go... please..." she sobbed, her teeth chattering so violently she could barely form the words. "Please... my boys... who’s going to take care of my boys?"
"Then kick!" I yelled, pulling backward with all the strength in my legs, bracing my boots against the stone ledge where Vance was holding Julian above the rising waterline. "Kick toward the wall, Melissa!"
Behind her, the rusted drainage grates gave way under the immense pressure of the flood. A whirlpool formed with a terrifying, sucking howl, pulling the water down into the riverbed below.
The suction doubled instantly.
"Katherine! She's dragging you down!" Vance roared, reaching out over the torrent, trying to grab my belt. "Let her go or you're going in with her!"
"I’ve got her!" I cried, my muscles tearing with the strain. "Melissa, grab the iron ring! Look at the wall—grab the ring!"
Melissa turned her head, seeing the heavy iron mooring ring set into the stone three inches from her right hand. But her face suddenly went rigid.
She wasn't looking at the ring.
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She was looking past it, through the swirling sheet of water, into the opened cavity beneath the surveyor's mark where the cracked mortar had fallen away to reveal a sealed lead cylinder.
Even with the river dragging her toward the grave, her eyes locked on that cylinder with a feverish, diseased hunger.
