Chapter 6 - Bleeding Out

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The assassins tore my bedroom apart, shredding the mattress and overturning heavy mahogany furniture.

"She's not here!" one of them yelled. "Check the bathroom!"

I pressed a bloody hand over my mouth to muffle my ragged breathing. The pain radiating from my lower back was unbearable. The placental abruption had started; the shock of the explosions and the sheer terror were causing me to bleed out rapidly.

If I stayed in this closet, my son would die inside me.

I forced the hidden service panel open, the rusted hinges giving a faint squeak. It opened into a pitch-black, narrow chute that led down to the laundry sub-basement.

"I hear something in the closet!"

They were closing in.

I pushed myself backward into the dark, suffocating space of the chute, dragging the panel shut just as the closet door was violently kicked open. I held my breath, balancing on a tiny, precarious wooden ledge in the dark.

Bullets ripped through the wall, grazing the air inches above my head. The wood splintered, showering me in dust and debris.

"She went into the walls!" a voice roared. "Burn it down! Burn the whole wing!"

I didn't wait. I began the agonizing climb down the maintenance ladder in the pitch black. Every rung was a fresh wave of torture. Blood slicked my hands, making it nearly impossible to hold on.

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Just a little further, I whispered to my unborn son, crying silently in the dark. Hold on, baby. Just hold on.

When my feet finally hit the concrete floor of the sub-basement, my legs completely gave out. I collapsed into a pool of freezing water, the smell of smoke and death slowly filtering down through the air vents. I was entirely alone, and the man I loved had abandoned me.