Chapter 18
"One. Two. Three. Breach!"
The thunderous crash of the steel battering ram hitting the heavy loading doors echoed through the quiet forest like a gunshot. The doors flew open, and the tactical team swarmed into the dark interior of the mill, their weapon-mounted flashlights cutting through the thick, dusty air.
"Police! Search warrant! Show your hands!" the officers screamed, their voices overlapping in a chaotic chorus.
I stayed crouched behind the SUV, my grip tightening on the handle of my medical bag. The wait was excruciating. Every second felt like an hour. I listened for gunfire, dreading the sound of violence, but the mill remained terrifyingly quiet after the initial breach.
"Clear on the ground floor!" the radio hissed. "Moving to the subterranean level."
Five agonizing minutes passed. I paced back and forth in the mud, imagining the horrors hidden beneath the floorboards. Finally, Miller's voice crackled through the radio, tight with emotion.
"Ethan. Get in here now. Bring the pediatric kits."
I didn't hesitate. I sprinted across the gravel lot, rushing through the shattered loading doors. The interior of the mill was vast and empty, littered with rusted machinery. I followed the glow of the tactical flashlights toward a heavy steel trapdoor set into the concrete floor.
I scrambled down the metal ladder into the basement. The smell hit me first—the undeniable, suffocating stench of unwashed bodies, fear, and human waste. It was the exact same smell as Clara's hidden room.
In the center of the damp, windowless basement, illuminated by police lights, were three small, rusted iron cages. The doors were unlocked, but the cages were empty.
"Where are they?" I asked frantically, dropping my bag.
May you like
Miller stood near a heavy wooden desk in the corner, holding a flashlight over a stack of documents. "They moved them. The tire tracks outside were fresh. The suspect must have been tipped off or saw us coming. They evacuated the children before we breached."
I stared at the empty cages, a sickening wave of failure washing over me. We had been so close.
