STORM #2
“He can’t open it.”
“He has me,” I answered.
Everyone looked at me.
“He knows I followed Ward.”
Another shot exploded upstairs.
A woman screamed.
Calle.
Ben’s voice followed.
“Get your hands off her!”
I broke free from Ward.
This time, he didn’t stop me.
We ran up the iron staircase.
The tower seemed to climb forever.
Smoke followed us.
At the top, a door opened into the lantern room.
One of Ross’s men held Calle against the shattered windows.
Blood marked her lower lip.
Her hands were tied behind her.
Ben stood six feet away.
His gun lay on the floor.
The man’s knife pressed against Calle’s throat.
“You move, she falls.”
Behind Calle, the railing had broken away.
Only open air separated her from the cliffs below.
Ben’s face held no emotion.
That frightened me more than rage would have.
“Let her go.”
The man laughed.
“You first.”
“You don’t want me.”
“No. But I want you to watch.”
He shoved Calle closer to the edge.
Ben took one step.
The blade cut her skin.
A thin line of blood appeared.
Ben stopped.
“Calle,” he said softly.
Her eyes found his.
Something passed between them.
Trust.
Understanding.
A silent plan.
Calle looked down at the camera hanging from the man’s belt.
Ivy’s camera.
Ben’s gaze followed hers.
Then returned to her face.
“I found your memory card.”
A tear slipped down her cheek.
“Good.”
“I’ll give it back.”
“You’d better.”
The man glanced between them.
“You two finished?”
Calle smiled.
“Yes.”
She drove her heel down on his foot.
At the same moment, Ben lunged.
The man’s knife sliced across Calle’s neck.
Not deep.
But enough to draw blood.
Ben hit him with the full force of his body.
Calle stumbled backward.
Her heel slipped over the edge.
I screamed.
Ben released the attacker and threw himself toward her.
His hand closed around Calle’s wrist.
Her body disappeared beyond the broken railing.
Ben hit the floor.
His injured shoulder slammed against the metal frame.
The wound tore open.
Blood spread across his shirt.
But he didn’t release her.
“Ben!” Calle cried.
“I’ve got you.”
The attacker rose behind him.
Ward fired.
The man dropped.
I ran to the railing.
Calle hung above the cliffs.
One hand gripped Ben’s wrist.
At least the restraints came loose. Her hands were no longer tied behind her.
Ben’s face had turned gray.
His wounded shoulder shook beneath her weight.
“Take my hand,” Ward ordered.
Ben ignored him.
“Calle, look at me.”
She lifted her face.
“I’m slipping.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Ben—”
“I said I’d find you.”
His voice broke.
Only slightly.
But everyone heard it.
“And I am not losing you now.”
Ward caught Ben around the waist.
I reached over the edge and grabbed Calle’s free arm.
Together, we pulled her onto the floor.
Calle landed against Ben.
For one breathless moment, neither moved.
His arms closed around her.
Her face pressed against his chest.
“You’re bleeding,” she whispered.
“So are you.”
“He cut you.”
“He cut you first.”
“That doesn’t make it better.”
“It does to me.”
Calle lifted her face.
Ben stared down at her.
The world disappeared around them.
I saw the exact moment he realized everyone was watching.
His arms loosened.
Not completely.
Just enough to hide what had already been revealed.
Callie rubbed her wrists.
“Thomas?”
“Safe,” I answered.
“Mom?”
“Safe.”
“The others?”
“Safe.”
Calle’s eyes filled with tears.
Ben touched the cut on her throat.
His fingers were unbelievably gentle.
Then his hand fell.
“We need to move.”
We descended to the lighthouse floor.
Coast Guard sirens approached from the southern road.
Mom held Calle the moment she reached the bottom.
Thomas stood beside Nathan.
Bruised.
Bloody.
Still refusing help.
“Where is Ross?” Calle asked.
“In the lower passage,” Ward answered.
Thomas looked toward the open door beneath the stairs.
“He’s going to Elias.”
“The body?” I asked.
“And the records James buried with him.”
“Why now?”
“Because the gate is resetting,” Thomas said. “When the lower tunnels flood, the current will tear open Elias’s grave.”
Ross didn’t need us to open the second gate.
He needed the flood to destroy what waited behind it.
Ward checked the timer.
00:13:42.
Nathan looked toward Mom.
“Take Thomas and Calle outside.”
Thomas shook his head.
“I know the tunnels.”
“You can barely stand.”
“I know the tunnels.”
Mom stepped beside him.
“And I know the closing sequence.”
Nathan closed his eyes.
“I miss the years when none of you were speaking to me.”
Mom touched his cheek.
“No, you don’t.”
His eyes opened.
“No,” he admitted. “I don’t.”
Ward faced me.
“Ross believes the five sisters have to stand at the gate.”
“He’s wrong.”
“How do you know?”
I looked toward Calle.
Then the lighthouse entrance.
The other three sisters were miles away beneath Coast Guard protection.
Grandpa would never have designed a system that required us to risk all five lives in one place.
He taught us to work together.
But he also taught us that the captain stood where she was needed most.
“The five positions aren’t five people,” I said.
Thomas stared at me.
“What are they?”
“Five directions.”
“There are only four directions,” Ben said.
“Not in Grandpa’s game.”
I remembered the assignments.
North.
East.
South.
West.
Home.
“The fifth position is the lighthouse.”
Thomas’s face changed.
“This lighthouse was always called Home Light.”
“Hazel’s position,” I said. “Home.”
Ward understood first.
“The other four positions aren’t inside the mountain.”
“No. They’re around Blackwater Cove.”
Nathan looked toward the storm.
“Five control points.”
“Five sisters,” Mom whispered. “But they don’t have to be together.”
The radio on Ward’s vest came alive.
Hazel’s voice filled the lighthouse.
“Storm?”
I grabbed it.
“I’m here.”
“We found something aboard Sea Whisper.”
“What?”
“A chart Grandpa hid behind the panel in his compartment.”
Paper rustled.
Then Hazel read the words written across it.
“North holds the truth. East carries the eye. South hears the warning. West guards the heart. Home calls them together.”
Calle looked at me.
“The eye.”
“Ivy’s camera,” I said.
She reached for the camera still hanging from the dead man’s belt.
Ben removed it, placed it gently in her hands, and then handed her the battery and the memory card.
Calle switched it on.
The screen was cracked.
But it worked.
She opened the final photograph she had taken aboard Nathan’s trawler.
The marking on the hull wasn’t a set of coordinates.
It was a compass.
Five points surrounded the Sinclair emblem.
And one of them was already glowing red.
The ground shook beneath us.
The timer reached ten minutes.
From the lower passage, Ross’s voice echoed through the lighthouse.
“You’re too late, Storm!”
A gunshot followed.
Then Thomas staggered.
Blood spread across his side.
Mom screamed.
Nathan caught him before he fell.
Thomas gripped Nathan’s shirt.
“Go.”
Nathan pressed both hands over the wound.
“I’m not leaving you.”
Thomas’s face twisted with pain.
“James didn’t.”
Another shot struck the wall.
Ward pulled me behind the stone staircase.
Ben shielded Calle.
Ross laughed from the darkness.
“Come find out what your grandfather buried!”
The timer dropped beneath nine minutes.
Thomas was bleeding.
Ross was escaping.
And the secret that had killed my father waited beneath Blackwater.