Evelyn Clayton had owned a factory before and naturally knew that such buildings were extrely sturdy. Although the inside was damp, not a drop of rain could seep through.
If a fire started inside the factory, even if they weren’t burned to death, they would be suffocated by the smoke!
The driver’s face turned deathly pale, highly visible even in the dark night. He frantically attempted to pull open the door to the small room, but at so point, it had already been locked from the outside.
The man broke down and scread, "John, John?! Are you trying to kill ?!"
No voice answered the man, only a very distinct sound of fire interrupted his cries of despair, and soon a nauseating sll of burning gasoline perated the air.
Evelyn was in a sorry state, leaning against an abandoned machine, frantically trying to scrape the rope against an iron bar.
Her eyes were locked onto the small window, where orange flas flickered inside, burning into her nerves.
The man continued pounding the door, shouting, evidently too panicked to think straight.
However, there was no response to him.
Evelyn, caught between shock and anger, shouted fiercely, "Co help untie the rope! I’ll think of a way to get us out!"
That idiot! Putting their hope for survival in the hands of a criminal!
The driver turned around, his once honest-looking face now full of panic. Without hesitation, he rushed over to help Evelyn untie the rope.
"Wh-what are we going to do..." After untying the rope, the man collapsed weakly to the ground, "My wife is still in the hospital, what are we going to do..."
Evelyn couldn’t be bothered with him, nor did she have any interest in his emotions. She rushed to the door, pounding on the iron door madly.
"John Jacobs! I know you’re there! Let us out, and I won’t hold you accountable for the kidnapping. We can talk about the money peacefully!"
Feeling the heat seeping through the door, Evelyn’s heart pounded fiercely.
She swallowed hard, her voice hoarse and trembling: "I just want Vanreid Factory, that’s all. As long as you let out, everything is negotiable!"
The sound of the flas devouring everything tortured Evelyn’s nerves, and soon the iron door began to heat up.
The firelight coming in through the window grew brighter, indicating that the fire had already reached near the small room.
Evelyn was nearly in despair.
If this continued, they wouldn’t suffocate to death.
They would be roasted alive in the sealed workspace.
She persistently knocked on the door, looking around to see if there was any other way out. But soon, John’s voice ca from outside—
"Director Clayton, I have no other choice!"
John’s voice was distant, "Soone offered ten million to take your life... Do you know how much ten million is? I, I have nowhere else to go."
"Director Clayton, don’t bla . Bla the person who wants to buy your life. When you reach the other side, I will burn money for you."
There was a pause, and suddenly John raised his voice.
"Brother, don’t bla either! Rest assured, I will take care of your wife!"
Those were John’s last words. No matter how much Evelyn shouted afterward, John didn’t respond.
John left.
The temperature inside the room gradually rose, and the humid, moist room was running out of oxygen.
Evelyn climbed up bit by bit using the workbench by the window, her eyes barely able to glimpse the scene outside, and when she saw it, she gasped sharply—
Outside, the factory’s main door was tightly shut, having already turned into a sea of flas.
"It’s over, we’re finished..."
The driver continued muttering to himself, clutching his head, frantically yanking at his hair in collapse.
Evelyn gritted her teeth, charged forward, and yelled angrily: "If you’re a man, stand up, listen to , the lock on the door is an old-fashioned one, with a steel pipe, we can pry it open!"
"If you still want to see your wife, stop your snivelling here!"
Reviews
All reviews (0)