Chapter 15 - The Cabin Siege“Stay down!” I hissed to Amy, pushing her behind the heavy oak dining table while positioning myself near the hallway with a heavy iron fireplace poker as my only makeshift weapon.
Heavy, pounding footsteps rushed up the wooden front porch steps. A split second later, the front wooden door splintered inward with a deafening crash as the deadbolt lock was kicked clean out of the frame.
“All right, old man! Time to hand over the cabin keys and whatever’s left in the—!”
Before the burly intruder could finish his sentence, Silas raised his shotgun and fired a warning blast into the high wooden ceiling, sending a shower of plaster and dust raining down over the entryway.
“Get off my property, Ray!” Silas roared, his voice echoing thunderously through the cabin.
A heavy, gravelly laugh came from the hallway outside. A tall, thick-set man wearing a leather biker jacket and holding a heavy crowbar stepped into the dim light of the living room. It was Uncle Ray—my mother’s ruthless younger brother, who had spent decades running illegal gambling rings across the state line.
“Well, well, well,” Ray sneered, his eyes locking onto me and Amy crouching behind the table. “If it isn’t our favorite little nephew, Connor. Mommy’s little engineer thinks he can play detective, huh? You really thought you could come up here and dig up our family secrets without paying the price?”
“It’s over, Ray,” I shouted, stepping out from the shadows with the backpack containing the original will clutched tightly in my hand. “Teresa is already in federal prison, and the police are right behind us. You’re walking into a trap.”
Ray grinned maliciously, stepping forward and swinging his crowbar against the edge of the stone fireplace. “The local police aren't due up these mountain roads for another hour, kid. And by the time they get here, this cabin—and everyone inside it—is going to suffer a tragic accidental fire.”
He signaled to the three thugs behind him, who fanned out through the room, brandishing heavy chains and hunting knives.
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My heart hammered against my ribs. I looked at Amy, who was holding her breath, terrified. I knew I couldn't fight off four armed men with just an iron poker. I needed a distraction, and I needed it right now.
My eyes darted toward the old stone fireplace, where stacks of dry split pine wood were piled high next to a canister of heavy-duty lighter fluid Silas used to start the winter fires.
