Chapter 6 - THE FIRST-AID BOXMateo recognized the guard’s expression.
Adults often thought children saw only uniforms.
Mateo saw hands.
The guard’s right hand moved toward his weapon.
His left reached for the blinds.
The second guard stood near the back door.
Ruby slept on the sofa.
Mateo picked up the first-aid box.
“My bandage hurts,” he said.
“Sit down.”
“I need my mom.”
“She’ll return.”
The guard closed the final blind.
Mateo dropped the box deliberately.
Metal struck the floor.
Ruby woke.
“What happened?”
“Run.”
Mateo kicked the first-aid box toward the nearest guard.
The man stumbled.
Mateo grabbed Ruby’s hand and pulled her behind the sofa.
A shot struck the wall.
Not aimed at the children.
A warning.
“Stop!”
Ruby screamed.
Mateo pushed open a narrow service hatch beside the fireplace.
He discovered it earlier while exploring the guesthouse.
It led into a laundry passage.
They crawled inside.
The guard caught Mateo’s ankle.
Mateo kicked backward with his worn sneaker.
The grip loosened.
Ruby crawled ahead.
Her pink dress snagged on a nail.
Mateo tore it free.
“Keep going.”
“I’m scared.”
“Me too.”
Honesty made courage possible.
They reached the laundry room.
A window stood six feet above the floor.
Mateo stacked two baskets.
Ruby climbed first.
November wind entered as she pushed the glass open.
Mateo lifted her through.
The guard struck the laundry door.
Wood cracked.
Ruby reached down from outside.
“Hold my hand!”
The same words Mateo gave her on the balcony.
He climbed.
The door burst open.
The guard caught the back of Mateo’s mustard-yellow shirt.
Fabric tightened against his throat.
Ruby gripped both of his wrists.
Mateo kicked the window frame.
The shirt tore.
He fell into the autumn grass beside her.
They ran toward the gardens.
Security alarms remained silent.
Graham’s men controlled them.
Ruby knew a stone path leading to her mother’s old greenhouse.
They hid beneath an empty potting table.
Mateo pressed one finger against his lips.
Footsteps crossed the gravel.
A guard’s radio sounded.
“Children exited north side. Pike wants the girl alive.”
“And the boy?”
A pause.
“Not necessary.”
Ruby covered her mouth.
Mateo’s serious brown eyes remained on the guard’s shoes.
When they disappeared, Ruby whispered:
“They’re going to kill you.”
“Not if they don’t find us.”
“What about our parents?”
Mateo remembered Rafael’s plan.
The white chalk line ran beneath the greenhouse.
He searched the old brick floor.
A loose stone concealed an iron ring.
Together, the children pulled.
A hatch opened.
Below was a ladder.
Ruby looked into the dark.
“I don’t want to.”
“Neither do I.”
“Do we have to?”
“Yes.”
Mateo descended first despite his scraped knees.
Ruby followed.
The tunnel smelled wet.
A white chalk arrow pointed toward the mansion.
Rafael had prepared more than one route.
The children moved beneath the gardens while Graham’s guards searched above.
In the sealed archive, Elena tore cloth from her apron and pressed it over her mouth.
Naomi examined the vents.
Vivian tried the steel door.
Vincent fired twice at the lock.
The bullets changed nothing.
Gas thickened near the floor.
“It’s not poison,” Naomi said. “It smells like a sedative.”
“He wants us unconscious,” Vivian replied.
“Why?”
“So he can move us.”
Elena looked at the shelves.
“The first-aid box.”
“What?”
“Rafael said it was the key. Not only to the plan.”
She remembered the false bottom.
A narrow magnetic strip remained attached beneath it.
Mateo had taken the box upstairs.
But Elena kept the small metal insert removed from its compartment.
She pulled it from her apron pocket.
The strip fitted into a slot beside the interior archive shelves.
A panel opened.
Emergency controls appeared.
Rafael had discovered Graham’s room and created a second exit.
Elena pressed the release.
The steel door unlocked.
They escaped into the tunnel seconds before the gas reached full concentration.
Then small footsteps approached from the darkness.
Elena raised her flashlight.
Mateo and Ruby emerged through the tunnel.
For one impossible moment, both mothers and fathers simply stared.
Then Elena ran.
She fell to her knees and pulled Mateo against her.
Vincent lifted Ruby.
The children spoke over one another.
“Graham’s guards—”
“They shot the wall—”
“They said Mateo wasn’t necessary—”
Vincent looked toward the tunnel behind them.
His stunned gratitude turned into fury.
This time, he did not reach for his gun.
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He handed it to Naomi.
“Tell me how we end this without becoming him.”
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