Chapter 3 - The Cold Dive
I didn't take off my boots. I didn't take off my watch.
I sprinted three steps and launched myself over the coping stones into the pool, cutting deep into the chlorinated cold.
The water burned my eyes, but I kept them forced wide. My boots weighed me down like lead anchors, dragging me toward the bottom drain.
Through the blue shimmer, I spotted the glint of gold sitting near the main intake grate.
I kicked hard, my lungs burning, reached out with clawed fingers, and snatched the brass key off the drain cover.
I broke the surface gasping for air, water streaming down my face, hauling myself up over the concrete edge.
Behind me on the patio, the scene had mutated into a nightmare.
Elena was lying on the ground beside Toby, clutching her bleeding temple.
And my mother was gone.
"Elena!" I scrambled across the slick tiles on all fours, slipping twice before catching her shoulders. "Elena! What happened?"
"She... she hit me with the patio chair," Elena wheezed, blood trickling down into her eyebrow. "She took Toby... Mark, she dragged him into the garage!"
The heavy steel garage door began to rattle downward with an electric whine.
I bolted across the flagstones, throwing my shoulder under the descending metal door just as it reached three feet off the concrete.
The safety sensor tripped, jerking the door back upward with a groan.
Inside the garage, the silver Mercedes engine roared to life, exhaust fumes filling the enclosed space with a choking cloud of gray smoke.
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Toby was strapped into the passenger seat, completely limp, his chin slumped against his chest.
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