Chapter 5 - Into the Dark
We ran for two miles through the dense pine forest. The sound of dogs barking and men shouting echoed behind us, but Elias knew the terrain.
He led us to a hidden access road where a battered, unmarked black truck was waiting under the canopy of trees.
We piled in. Elias hit the gas, leaving the headlights off as he navigated the dirt road purely by moonlight.
Maya sat in the backseat, trembling, her knees pulled to her chest.
I turned around in the passenger seat and reached back, placing my hand over hers.
"Are you hurt?" I asked softly.
She shook her head. Then she looked at me, her eyes filled with a mixture of fear and betrayal. "Who are you?"
The question stung more than a bullet.
"My name is Callie Mercer," I said. "But before I was a stock clerk, I was a Navy SEAL. Your father and I served together in a classified unit."
Maya's breath hitched. "My dad? You told me he was an accountant. You told me he died in a car crash."
"I lied," I said, my voice thick with regret. "I lied to keep you safe. Your father died a hero in a place that doesn't exist on any map. And the people who killed him just shot up our house."
Maya turned her face toward the window, crying silently into the dark. I wanted to hug her, to tell her everything would be okay, but in our world, promises like that were usually a death sentence.
Elias merged onto a paved highway, finally flipping on the headlights.
"They tracked your facial recognition," Elias said, his eyes glued to the road. "Vance owns half the security cameras in the state through a shell company. You triggered an alert at a gas station three days ago."
"So he knows I have the drive."
"He knows you're alive. He assumes you have the drive. Where is it, Cal?"
I reached into my pocket and pulled out my cheap Timex watch. I flipped it over, popping off the metal backplate. Tucked inside, wrapped in waterproof film, was a micro-SD card.
"Right here," I said.
May you like
Elias let out a low whistle. "Six years. You've been carrying the rope to hang him on your wrist for six years."
"And now," I said, staring at the tiny piece of plastic, "it's time to build the gallows."
