Chapter 5 - Through the Smoke
The heat was becoming unbearable. The oxygen in the hallway was thinning rapidly, replaced by thick, choking billows of black smoke that stung their eyes and burned their lungs.
Grayson coughed violently, shielding Delia with his body as a shower of burning embers rained down from the ceiling rafters. "The balcony," he choked out, pointing toward the heavy French doors leading to the second-story guest suite. "It overhangs the lower courtyard. If we can drop from the ledge..."
"No," Delia signaled fiercely, shaking her head. Her hands flew through the air in a blur of motion. Too high. You're injured. We use the service chute.
"The laundry chute?" Grayson stared at her in disbelief. "That drops straight down into the basement incinerator room!"
Not if we redirect it, Delia’s hands flashed back. Trust me.
Without waiting for his approval, she sprinted toward the linen closet at the end of the hallway, her boots sliding slightly on the slick hardwood. Grayson cursed under his breath and followed her through the rolling smoke.
The heavy metal door of the laundry chute was scorching to the touch. Delia threw it open. Inside, the vertical metal drop stretched down three stories into the bowels of the mansion. Normally used for dirty sheets and heavy tablecloths, it was slick, narrow, and claustrophobic.
Delia grabbed two heavy wool wool blankets from the shelf, soaked them thoroughly in a bucket of soapy water she had dragged from her cart, and lined the interior of the chute.
She looked back at Grayson, pointed to herself, then pointed down. I go first. Catch me if I fall.
Before Grayson could protest, Delia slid headfirst into the metal tube, disappearing into the darkness.
Grayson didn't hesitate another second. He squeezed his broad shoulders into the narrow opening, adjusted his position, and let gravity pull him into the abyss.
The descent was a terrifying, high-speed blur of friction, heat, and roaring wind. Metal panels rattled against his elbows as he plummeted downward through the heart of the burning mansion.
With a sudden, jarring thud, Grayson slammed into a pile of industrial laundry bags at the bottom, knocking the wind completely out of his lungs.
May you like
Hands grabbed him instantly—strong, steady hands.
Delia hauled him out of the chute just as a massive section of the upper flooring gave way above them, sending a cascade of burning debris crashing down into the empty laundry shaft.
