Chapter 11
The smuggler’s tunnel was suffocatingly narrow, forcing them to move in a single-file line with their shoulders scraping against the damp, earthen walls. The air was freezing, biting through their clothing, but the adrenaline pumping through their veins kept the bitter Maine cold at bay. Everett led the way using the weak beam of his pocket flashlight, while Sloane brought up the rear, constantly checking over her shoulder for any sign of pursuit.
"Keep your heads low," Everett whispered, navigating around a thick bundle of ancient, petrified tree roots breaking through the ceiling. "The tunnel slopes downward toward the cove. We have to be careful with our footing."
Bennett stumbled on a loose rock, letting out a sharp gasp. Maren immediately caught him, pulling him tightly against her side. "I've got you, baby. You're doing so well. Just a little further."
"They will figure out the secret door eventually," Sloane warned quietly, her voice echoing slightly in the confined space. "Richard Vance knows this property inside and out. He recommended it because it was isolated, which means he likely knows about the escape routes. We cannot stop moving."
After what felt like hours of claustrophobic hiking, the tunnel began to angle upward. The smell of the ocean grew overwhelmingly strong, masking the scent of dust and gunpowder. The weak beam of the flashlight illuminated a heavy wooden bulkhead door resting above a short flight of stone steps.
Everett climbed the steps and pushed hard against the wooden planks. They were heavy with rot and ice, but they finally gave way, flipping backward onto the frozen ground. They emerged into the brutal, biting wind of the Maine coastline. The night sky was completely obscured by thick, heavy snow clouds, leaving them in near-total darkness.
Behind them, situated atop the steep coastal bluff, the safe house was currently engulfed in bright orange flames. Vance and his men had set the property on fire to destroy any remaining evidence.
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"We can't use the main road," Everett said, shivering as the freezing wind hit his sweat-soaked clothes. "They'll have vehicles patrolling the perimeter. We have to head deep into the pine forest. There’s an old ranger station about three miles north. If we can reach it, we can find shelter and figure out our next move."
Without a word of complaint, Maren took Bennett's hand, Sloane adjusted her grip on the hard drive, and they disappeared into the dense, frozen woods.
