Her Stepmother Chased Her Down the Hallway With a Wooden Candlestick—Until the 1-Year-Old Girl Fell Down the Stairs! Her Father Rushed In to Save Her, but What She Whispered About the Locked Room Left Him Frozen in Horror! / Chapter 23 / 40

Chapter 23 - The Leap of Cape Disappointment

"Hang on!" Daniel roared.

The ambulance hit the rising steel grating of the drawbridge at full throttle. Sparks showered into the torrential darkness as its underside scraped the metal. The massive vehicle launched into the void, clearing the ten-foot gap between the rising spans and crashing violently onto the opposite deck. The impact blew out the rear left tire of the ambulance, sending it fishtailing wildly before it slammed into the concrete guardrail, grinding to a smoking halt.

"Dad! The gap!" Noah screamed, burying his face in his hands.

Daniel didn't brake. To stop was to let Julian recover, take Maya, and vanish into the black waters of the bay. He floored the cruiser's accelerator.

The cruiser hit the incline of the bridge deck. For two agonizing seconds, gravity vanished. The car was airborne, soaring over the churning, pitch-black ocean fifty feet below. Wind screamed around the chassis. Noah shrieked.

CRASH.

The cruiser slammed down onto the opposite span with bone-rattling force. The front suspension shattered. Both airbags deployed with the sound of shotgun blasts, filling the cabin with white smoke and the acrid smell of burning gunpowder.

Daniel fought through the daze, slicing the airbag open with Miller's pocketknife. He coughed, spitting blood from a split lip. "Noah! Noah, talk to me!"

"I'm okay! Dad, I'm okay!" Noah coughed, shaking but unhurt.

"Stay down under the dash. Do not move unless I tell you!"

Daniel kicked the driver’s door open. The front end of the cruiser was wedged against the bridge railing, smoke billowing from the crushed radiator. Thirty yards ahead, the ambulance sat crumpled against the concrete barrier, steam pouring from its mangled hood.

Daniel drew Miller’s Glock, racking the slide. He advanced through the rain, his boots splashing through pools of oil and seawater.

The rear doors of the ambulance were cracked open.

Daniel approached with his weapon raised, slicing the angles just as he’d been trained during his years in private security. He reached the back, grabbed the door handle, and yanked it wide.

The inside was a slaughterhouse of shattered glass and overturned medical kits. Strapped securely into the paramedic captain’s chair was Maya’s car seat. The little girl was alive, her eyes half-lidded and drowsy from the sedative, sucking weakly on her thumb.

Beside her, Julian Hawthorne was slumped against the interior wall, his face covered in blood from a fractured skull caused by the crash. But his eyes were wide, and in his right hand, he held a flare gun pointed directly at Maya’s chest.