Chapter 49 - The Canal of the Damned
We plunged into the flooded Roman aqueduct. The water rose to my waist, ice-cold and carrying the heavy stench of industrial runoff. Lily was tied securely to my chest with Clara's coat belt, her arms locked around my neck, while Clara carried Maya on her shoulders, holding her above the filthy torrent.
Behind us, the shouts of the surviving mercenaries echoed faintly, but without Arthur’s commands, their pursuit had lost its ruthless coordination.
"The gate is just ahead!" Clara shouted over the roar of rushing water.
Ahead, an ancient iron portcullis blocked the mouth of the aqueduct, partially corroded by centuries of river flow. Through the rusted bars, the gray light of early dawn filtered across the water, revealing the sluggish current of the industrial canal.
I pulled an emergency crowbar from the maintenance bracket on the stone wall and wedged it between the rusted lower bars. Straining every muscle in my back, ignoring the blinding pain in my broken ribs, I pried the iron upward until a gap large enough for a person opened near the mud line.
"Push Maya through!" I gasped.
Clara guided Maya under the bars, the little girl slipping smoothly into the misty air outside, finding purchase on a wooden mooring post. Next went Lily, who scrambled through the gap, holding her sister's hand tightly.
"Your turn, Clara," I urged.
Clara squeezed through, her clothes tearing against the jagged iron. She turned and reached back through the bars, her hand finding mine. "Come on, Julian. We're almost out."
I dropped the crowbar and dropped low into the freezing silt to slide beneath the gate. Just as my torso cleared the iron edge, a heavy boot slammed down onto my calf.
I roared in pain, twisting around.
One of Arthur’s elite guards had caught up, his tactical mask splattered with mud, his submachine gun aimed straight down at my back through the bars.
*CRACK.*
Clara didn't hesitate. She fired her captured sidearm from outside the cage. The mercenary took the round in the neck, stumbling backward into the dark aqueduct waters with a gurgling shriek.
May you like
Clara grabbed my collar, hauling me through the gap with frantic strength. I tumbled onto the muddy canal bank, gasping for air, the cold morning rain washing the blood and soot from my skin.
We were out. Across the misty canal, an old, rusted fishing trawler sat idling in the shadows of the abandoned brick factory, its diesel engine humming like a steady heartbeat.
