Chapter 99 - The Breach at Oak Ridge
The sound of Caleb's heavy turbodiesel pickup was like thunder reverberating through the earth. Above us, the iron grating groaned as the wooden frame of the manor began to pop and crackle under the heat of the rapidly spreading fire. Smoke was curling in thick, blinding ropes down the stairway we had descended only ten minutes prior.
"Heave!" Vance roared, his veins bulging against his neck as we threw our combined weight against the chute grate.
With a shriek of bending metal, the outer bolts tore free from the mortar. Vance threw his shoulder against the iron flap, forcing it open just enough to see the night sky through the overgrown briars of the lower terrace. Above us, the orange glow of flames was already painting the underside of the cedar trees in violent, dancing silhouettes.
"Clara first! Go!" Vance barked, hoisting my sister up into the narrow chute. Clara scrambled through the soot, her hands finding purchase on the frozen earth above, pulling herself up into the fresh air.
"Katherine, you next! Hurry!"
I shoved my boots into the stone crevices, Vance pushing me from below with frantic strength. I burst through the briars, falling onto the cold grass, gasping as the freezing wind filled my smoke-burned lungs. Looking back down, I grabbed Vance’s outstretched arm, helping him haul his heavy frame through the gap just as a massive structural beam collapsed inside the main hallway with an earth-shattering crash.
A fountain of golden sparks shot fifty feet into the night sky from the shattered roof of the library.
"Katherine! Over here!" Caleb’s voice sliced through the chaos. He had backed his heavy truck straight across the stone terrace, using the front bumper to knock down the decorative wrought-iron fence to give us an escape route.
I sprinted toward the truck, my boots slipping in the mud. Inside the cab, Lily pressed her face against the passenger window, tears streaming down her pale cheeks as she saw the flames engulfing the mansion. I threw the door open and pulled her into my arms, burying my face in her hair. She was shaking violently, but she was unharmed.
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"Mommy! The man by the trees!" Lily cried, pointing her small, trembling finger toward the dark ridge that overlooked the weir. "He had the music box! He’s going toward the river!"
I looked through the rear window. Silhouetted against the roaring bonfire of Oak Ridge, Julian Van Der Bilt was walking deliberately into the black timber, carrying a heavy canvas bag, heading toward the rushing waters of the Saint-Laurent rapids.
