Chapter 8 - THE LIGHT IN THE DARK
I kicked violently, breaking the grip, and scrambled backward.
The warehouse was pitch black. The only sounds were the distant gunfire outside and the heavy, ragged breathing of men hunting each other in the dark.
“You can’t hide, Marcus!” Silas’s voice echoed, distorted by the cavernous space. He was hurt. His voice was strained. “I have infrared scopes on the catwalk. My snipers will see you before you see them.”
He was right. If we stayed in the open, we were dead.
“Marcus,” a soft whisper came from my left.
I crawled toward the sound. I found Tessa crouched behind a forklift, her arms wrapped protectively around Leo. I touched her arm to let her know I was there.
“You’re bleeding,” she whispered, feeling the warm dampness on my sleeve.
“It’s a scratch,” I lied. “We need to get to the tunnels.”
“No,” Tessa said firmly. “They’ll bottleneck us in the tunnel. We need an advantage.”
“We’re blind in here, Tessa.”
“You are,” she said quietly. “I’m not.”
I stared at her outline in the dark.
“For four years, Marcus, I cleaned your massive house while you slept,” she whispered fiercely. “I know how to move in the dark. I know how to use shadows. Trust me.”
Before I could stop her, she picked up a heavy metal bolt from the floor. She threw it hard across the room. It clanged against a steel drum.
Crack!
A sniper’s bullet sparked against the drum, giving away the shooter’s position on the catwalk above.
“Cover your ears, Leo,” Tessa murmured.
She grabbed my gun hand, guiding my arm in the dark.
“Up and to the right,” she whispered in my ear. “Third gantry. The spark gave me his angle.”
I trusted her completely. I squeezed the trigger.
A heavy thud echoed as a body hit the metal grating above. One sniper down.
“You bitch!” Silas screamed from somewhere near the loading dock.
Footsteps rushed us. Two of Silas’s remaining men, using flashlights now, sweeping the beams frantically across the floor.
“Stay down,” I told her.
I rolled out from cover, firing twice. The flashlights shattered. The men dropped.
Silence descended again. Heavy and suffocating.
Then, a sudden, blinding spotlight clicked on, bathing the three of us in harsh white light.
Silas stood on the loading dock, bleeding from his forehead, holding a high-powered rifle directly at Tessa.
“Game over,” Silas spat, coughing up blood. “Drop the gun, Marcus. Or I blow her head off.”
I looked at Silas. I looked at Tessa. She was staring at me, her eyes completely calm.
She slowly reached into her pocket.
“I didn't come to your house to protect you, Marcus,” Tessa said, her voice echoing clearly across the warehouse.
Silas frowned. “What are you talking about?”
Tessa didn't look at him. She kept her eyes locked on mine.
“I came to see if you were worth saving.”
She pulled her hand out of her pocket. In her palm was a small, black remote detonator. She had taken it from the thugs I killed earlier. The men rigged to blow the doors.
“And you are,” she smiled.
She pressed the button.
The entire loading dock beneath Silas’s feet detonated in a massive fireball.
The shockwave knocked us flat. The roof groaned, raining dust and debris. Silas was gone, swallowed by the explosion.
As the flames illuminated the wreckage, the wail of police sirens finally pierced the night air, growing louder by the second. Brendan and my men flooded the warehouse floor.
It was over.
I pushed myself up, ignoring the pain, and reached down. I pulled Tessa to her feet. I pulled my son into my chest.
May you like
I buried my face in Tessa’s hair, breathing in the scent of smoke and lavender.
“You’re safe,” I choked out. “You’re safe.”
