Chapter 6: The Breach
David sped back to Astoria, breaking every traffic law in the borough. The sun was setting, casting long, bloody streaks of light across the skyline. When he turned onto his street, his stomach dropped.
The front door of their house was wide open, the wood splintered around the deadbolt.
"Mary!" David screamed, sprinting up the steps and drawing the licensed 9mm pistol he had taken from his safe earlier that morning.
The house was trashed. Furniture was overturned, drywall was smashed in, and the distinct smell of cordite hung in the air.
"Dad!"
David spun around. Leo was crawling out from beneath the floorboards in the pantry—a small, hidden crawlspace David had built years ago to store valuables. Leo was covered in dust, his face streaked with tears.
"Where’s Mom?" David demanded, dropping to his knees and grabbing the boy’s shoulders.
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"She made me hide," Leo sobbed. "The men came in. They had guns. She hit one with the iron stick, but they grabbed her. She told me not to make a sound."
David hugged his son tight, a primal rage boiling in his veins. They hadn't killed her. If they wanted her dead, they would have shot her in the living room. They wanted the drive.
