Part 10
The twin lights behind us grew larger,
cutting through the heavy downpour with terrifying speed,
their engines roaring like distant thunder.
Victor was piloting the second boat himself,
his face likely twisted with the same arrogance,
that had driven him to betray his own family.
He had a faster craft,
a high-powered racing boat,
designed for speed rather than stability in a storm.
"He's gaining on us,
Dad!"
Lily called out,
looking back at the white spray rising from Victor's hull.
"Hold on tight,"
I told her,
gripping the steering wheel with both hands,
and scanning the dark river for an advantage.
The river was narrow here,
lined with jagged rocks,
and fallen trees that had been swept into the current by the storm.
A normal pilot would slow down,
fearing a collision that could rip the bottom out of the boat,
but I knew every turn of this waterway.
I guided our craft into the deepest part of the channel,
using the shifting currents to carry us faster,
minimizing the resistance against the hull.
Victor was reckless,
forcing his boat through the rough water,
unaware of the hidden sandbars that lay just beneath the surface.
I saw the upcoming bend,
a sharp,
dangerous curve where the river narrowed significantly,
bordered by a wall of black granite.
To the untrained eye,
the center of the bend looked like the safest path,
but I knew that a large cluster of submerged boulders rested there,
hidden just inches below the churning foam.
I waited until the last possible second,
feeling the spray of Victor’s boat hitting my back,
as he attempted to pull alongside us.
"Daniel,
stop the boat!"
Victor’s voice echoed across the water,
amplified by a megaphone,
sounding desperate and hollow.
"You can't escape,
the whole county is locked down!"
I didn't answer,
instead,
I suddenly yanked the wheel hard to the left,
sending our boat into the shallow,
rocky water near the eastern bank.
The hull scraped against a hidden branch,
a loud shudder vibrating through the deck,
but the boat held its course.
Victor,
thinking I was trying to run aground,
steered his heavy craft directly down the center of the channel,
accelerating to cut us off at the exit of the turn.
It was the exact mistake I had anticipated,
the final miscalculation of a man who relied on brute force rather than strategy.
A second later,
a sickening crunch echoed across the river,
the sound of fiberglass shattering against solid granite.
Victor’s boat lifted completely out of the water,
its hull ripped open from bow to stern,
before it crashed back down into the foam,
spinning wildly out of control.
The engine screamed in protest,
smoke billowing from the shattered cowling,
as the vessel began to sink rapidly into the dark depths.
I straightened our wheel,
bringing the boat back into the main channel,
and looked back one final time.
Victor was standing on the sinking deck,
clutching a life ring,
May you like
his empire dissolving into the cold,
uncaring river.
