Chapter 11 - The Subterranean Escape and the Harbor Extraction
The freezing, churning water of the underground Chicago river culvert swallowed
me whole.
The shock of the sub-surface temperature tore the breath from my lungs, but the
heavy current immediately seized my body, propelling me through the roaring
darkness of the massive concrete tunnel at twenty miles per hour.
I kicked hard toward the surface, breaking through the white-water foam, gasping
for air.
"Sarah! Maya!" I shouted, my voice echoing violently off the curved brick arches
of the century-old subterranean aqueduct.
Thirty feet ahead, illuminated by the green glow of a waterproof emergency flare
Sarah had cracked open, I saw them. Sarah was swimming with powerful, effortless
strokes—her strength fully restored by the permanent synthesis cure—holding Maya
securely above the water level against a floating commercial maintenance buoy.
"We're here, David!" Sarah yelled back. "Grab the tow ring!"
I fought against the current, kicking furiously until my fingers wrapped around
the steel eyelet of the buoyant foam marker.
Maya was coughing slightly from the spray, but she looked down at me through the
green flare light and grabbed my hand with both of hers. "Daddy! You did it! You
jumped!"
"I told you I'd never leave you, baby," I coughed, wiping the freezing river
water from my eyes.
The current carried our makeshift raft through the dark, winding subterranean
canal system for nearly fifteen minutes, bypassing all the police cordons,
tactical roadblocks, and traffic snarls choking the streets of downtown Chicago
three stories above our heads.
Ahead, the low, distant hum of city traffic gave way to the wide, expansive roar
of open water.
A crescent of early morning sunlight broke through the tunnel exit as the
culvert emptied directly into the mouth of the Chicago River basin, near the
outer locks connecting to Lake Michigan.
We drifted out into the open basin, hidden beneath the massive concrete pylons
of the Navy Pier boardwalk.
Sarah helped me haul Maya up onto the wooden maintenance dock beneath the pier.
We collapsed onto the weathered timber planks, shivering, exhausted, soaked to
the bone, but alive.
Above us, the distant wail of dozens of emergency sirens echoed across the city.
Through the wooden slats of the boardwalk, we looked back toward the gleaming
glass monolith of Vanguard Tower two miles away.
The building was surrounded by a massive armada of federal law enforcement
vehicles. Marked FBI tactical units, Department of Justice black sedans, and
armored homeland security transports had completely blockaded the perimeter.
News helicopters circled the penthouse like hornets, broadcasting the live
takedown of Sterling’s corporate empire to every television screen in America.
Maya sat between us on the dock, wrapped tightly in Sarah's waterproof jacket,
looking up at the sky.
"Mommy?" Maya asked softly. "Is the bad man gone now?"
Sarah pulled Maya into a fierce, tearful embrace, resting her chin on our
daughter’s head. "He’s gone, baby. He’s never coming back. None of them are ever
going to hurt our family again."
I sat beside them, wrapping both of my arms around my wife and daughter, pulling
them tight against my chest. For the first time in three agonizing years,
Sarah’s breathing was completely clear, her heart beating in steady, healthy
rhythm against mine.
"David," Sarah whispered, looking up at me with tears shining in her brown eyes.
"What do we do now? Our house is ruined. Our old life is gone."
May you like
I smiled, feeling a deep, profound peace wash over my soul.
"We build a new life, Sarah," I said, kissing her forehead. "Anywhere in the
world we want. Just the three of us."
