The Prison-Made Queen novel Chapter 1007

"Bason, Abel, grab two of those doors. We're taking them with us. Save the celebration for later."

"Once we make it out of here, we'll give this guy exactly what's coming to him!"

As the men hoisted the crushing weight of the steel doors, Callahan stayed glued to Leilani's side. He used his broad shoulders and back as a physical shield, deflecting falling debris as she navigated the labyrinth.

The closer they got to the edge of destruction, the colder and more calculating Leilani became. The blueprint was permanently burned into her mind, and she guided them through a dizzying series of lefts and rights.

Time lost all meaning. Another deafening rumble tore through the ceiling—the aftershock of the main detonation.

Just as exhaustion was starting to set in, the entrance to the drainage tunnel materialized through the smoke.

"Holy shit, Leilani, you are a genius!" Abel gasped.

To be able to keep a level head and map out an escape route while the world was literally exploding around them was insane. She was exactly like Callahan.

It made perfect sense why they were together. They were cut from the exact same cloth.

The tunnel entrance was claustrophobically narrow, but the walls were distinctly thicker, the solid concrete radiating a vibe of impenetrable safety compared to the flimsy plaster behind them.

"Mr. Larson goes first. Then Bason, then Shaun! Abel, you stay at the threshold to help me jam the doors!"

Callahan's voice was hoarse from the dust. He basically shoved a wheezing Mr. Larson into the opening, then turned to Leilani.

"Get all the way to the back. Stay with him."

*BOOM!!!*

A catastrophic explosion, loud enough to rupture eardrums, annihilated the space outside. This shockwave was closer, and infinitely more violent.

The very foundation of the earth screamed. The concrete above them groaned in agony.

The blast door took the brunt of the kinetic force, emitting a sickening metallic shriek as it bowed inward. It vibrated so violently it felt like it would be ripped off its hinges and crushed into them.

Debris rained down in the deafening darkness, the dust thick enough to choke on.

In the apocalyptic chaos, Callahan blindly reached behind him. He found Leilani's wrist in the pitch black and squeezed it—hard. It was a grounding, protective gesture. Once he felt her pulse and knew she was intact, he immediately let go to brace the door again.