Chapter 41 Damian
Damian
Dawn broke gray and heavy over the shipping yard. Steel containers stacked high like walls, gulls screaming overhead. Cyclone swore he’d picked up movement here two nights ago, a pattern he couldn’t ignore. We rolled in quiet, weapons ready, eyes sharp.
And found nothing.
The yard was deserted. No guards, no trucks, no Luthor. Just the echo of our boots on wet concrete and the bitter tang of salt air.
River slammed his fist against a container, the clang echoing across the rows. “Three days. Three goddamn days of chasing shadows.”
“Save it,” Roger barked. His temper was fraying too, though his voice was low and dangerous instead of sharp. “We don’t need noise. We need answers.”
“Answers?” River spun on him, teeth bared. “We’re no closer than when we started!”
The two squared off, shoulders tense, anger sparking in the air.
“Enough!” My voice snapped across the yard, harsher than I meant. They both froze, eyes on me. I let the silence hang a beat, then ground out, “Luthor wants this. Wants us divided, snapping at each other. We don’t give him that.”
Cyclone stood apart, laptop balanced on a crate, his brow furrowed so deep it looked carved there. He shook his head, muttering, “It’s like he knows we’re coming before we even move. Every trail’s scrubbed clean.”
I turned away, staring down the endless rows of containers, my jaw clenched so tight it ached. The team was unraveling, and I couldn’t shake the hollowness gnawing at me.
Because I missed her.
Morgan.
The scratch of her recorder, her clear voice cutting through noise and chaos. She’d have seen something we missed, connected dots no one else could. The silence without her felt wrong. Empty.
I closed my eyes a second longer than I should have. Her face was there, the way she’d looked at me when I promised I’d come back. The way her voice had broken on that please.
When I opened my eyes, the yard was still empty, the team still heavy with frustration. And me—still carrying the weight of a promise I wasn’t sure I could keep.
“We keep moving,” I said, my voice rough. “Luthor’s out there. And if it takes every night we’ve got, we’ll find him.”
Nobody argued. But their silence spoke louder than words.