Chapter 7 - The Final Stand
The boathouse exploded into chaos. Smoke filled the air as tactical officers poured through the shattered entrances, their flashlight beams cutting through the haze.
"Drop the weapon!" an officer screamed at Chloe, who was stumbling backward, coughing frantically and swinging the tire iron blindly through the thick flour dust.
The man in the suit dropped his briefcase, raised his hands immediately, and hit the floor, surrendered without a fight.
But Evelyn didn't yield.
From the raised catwalk above, she reached into her coat pocket, pulled out a small flare gun, and pointed it down toward the oil-stained wooden floorboards near the entry team. "Get back!" she shrieked, her voice wild and unhinged. "Get back or I'll burn this whole place to the ground!"
"Mom, stop!" Mark roared, scrambling across the slick floor toward the stairs. "It's over! Look around you!"
"It’s never over!" Evelyn spat, her knuckles turning white around the grip of the flare gun. "I am not going to spend the rest of my life in a concrete cell because of you and your ungrateful sister!"
She aimed the barrel directly at Detective Vance.
I didn't think. I reacted.
Despite the blinding throb in my collarbone, I grabbed a heavy iron boat cleat resting on the edge of the nearest wooden barrel and hurled it with everything I had left.
The heavy iron cleat struck the wooden railing right beside Evelyn’s arm with a loud crack. The shock sent the flare gun tumbling from her hand. It hit the catwalk floor and rolled off the edge, dropping into the dark, freezing water of the creek below with a soft splash.
Two tactical officers charged up the stairs, pinning Evelyn against the wooden wall before she could move another step. The metallic click of handcuffs echoed clearly over the sound of the rain against the metal roof.
Detective Vance stepped up beside me, breathing heavily, and placed a hand on my good shoulder. "Nice shot, Clara."
I looked over at Evelyn as the officers led her down the stairs in restraints. Her hair was matted with rain, her face pale and hollow. As she passed me, she didn't say a word. She couldn't even meet my eyes.
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Chloe was already kneeling on the floor in handcuffs, weeping uncontrollably as an officer read her rights.
It was over. The shadow that had hung over our family had finally been broken.
