Chapter 7 - The Cornered Prey
We scrambled the final hundred yards through the storm. The dilapidated, three-story wooden mill loomed out of the darkness like a decaying leviathan. We burst through the heavy wooden door and slammed an iron bar across the frame just as Esteban slammed his body against the exterior.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
"OPEN THE DOOR!" he screamed frantically from outside. "YOU AREN'T LEAVING THIS FOREST ALIVE!"
Inside the pitch-black mill, Lucía dug frantically through a pile of rusted iron gears, pulling out a waterproof bag. She yanked out the phone, but her face fell—the screen displayed No Service.
"The storm took down the cell tower," Lucía’s voice cracked in despair. "We're trapped..."
CRACK!
The wooden door below began to splinter. Esteban had retrieved an axe from the woodshed. The iron blade bit through the ancient timber, letting in flashes of lightning.
"To the upper level!" I shouted, grabbing an iron pipe from the floor.
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We rushed up the rickety wooden stairs to the second-floor loft, which opened onto a dilapidated wooden balcony directly above the roaring, flooded river below. But as we reached the top, the front door downstairs was completely chopped to pieces.
Esteban stepped inside. Blood streamed down his face from his wounded forehead, his eyes dark with unhinged, murderous rage as he began climbing the stairs.
