Chapter 25 - The Lighthouse on the Black Crag
Daniel sprinted back to the wrecked cruiser. The rain was easing into a freezing, thick coastal mist that clung to the steel bridge like funeral shrouds.
"Noah! Out, now!" Daniel called out.
Noah scrambled out of the passenger side, his eyes widening as he saw his sister in Daniel’s arms. "Maya! You got her!"
"She's okay, buddy. But we have to move. The cruiser is dead." Daniel set Maya into Noah’s arms for a brief second while he ripped open the cruiser's trunk. Inside was Miller’s tactical gear: an assault rifle, three extra magazines, a trauma kit, and two rain ponchos.
Daniel strapped the rifle across his chest, pocketed the extra ammunition, and slung the tactical pack over his shoulder. He took Maya back, wrapping her securely against his chest inside his heavy coat, and took Noah firmly by the hand.
"Where are we going, Dad?" Noah asked, teeth chattering against the biting salt wind.
"We have to get off this bridge before Julian’s people arrive," Daniel said, looking toward the far side of the span.
Through the dense sea fog, a quarter-mile ahead on a rocky headland, the silhouette of an old, decommissioned lighthouse rose against the dark sky like a jagged black tooth. Its glass lantern room was dark, but a faint, pulsing red beacon blinked on its roof—the exact coordinates indicated on Julian’s satellite phone.
*The extraction point.*
If Clara was waiting there, or if her extraction team was inbound, Daniel wasn't going to hide. He was done running through the dark, waiting for candlesticks, fires, and corrupt cops to take his family piece by piece.
"We’re going to the lighthouse," Daniel said grimly.
"Is Mom there?" Noah asked, his small voice filled with a heartbreaking mix of hope and terror.
Daniel looked down at his son. How could he tell a seven-year-old boy that his mother might be the devil pulling the strings?
"I don't know who’s waiting there, Noah," Daniel answered honestly, his voice raw. "But whoever they are, they’re going to answer for what they’ve done to you and your sister."
May you like
They hurried down the descent of the bridge, their boots crunching on the wet gravel path that wound up the granite crags toward the desolate lighthouse.
***
