Chapter 5 - THE SHADOW OF BLACKWOOD ISLE
Dawn broke over the ocean like a bruise—streaks of sickly purple and burnt orange bleeding across a heavy, ash-gray sky. The night had been a blur of shivering cold, saltwater spray, and whispered reassurances to Leo, who had woken up twice shivering with a mild fever. My own body felt stiff and battered, every muscle screaming in protest every time the raft pitched over a rogue wave.
Then, as the morning mist burned off the horizon, the water changed color from deep midnight blue to a shallow, dangerous emerald green.
And there it was.
Rising straight out of the churning ocean like a jagged obsidian tooth was an imposing mass of volcanic rock known on old maritime smuggling charts as Blackwood Isle. Jutting from the cliffs at the island's center was a sprawling, half-ruined Victorian estate surrounded by razor-wire fences and modern satellite communication domes—a bizarre, jarring contrast between 19th-century gothic architecture and 21st-century high-tech surveillance.
"Mara..." Leo whimpered, waking up and rubbing her heavy eyes as she peered through the small viewport. "Where are we? Is this where they took my papa?"
"I don't know, sweetheart," I said honestly, my throat dry as dust. "But if your father is on that island, we're going to find him."
The current was dragging our life raft relentlessly toward a rocky cove tucked beneath the sheer limestone cliffs of the island's western shore. There was no sandy beach, only jagged boulders slick with black kelp and pounded by unforgiving surf. I knew that if I didn't paddle us toward a sheltered crevice, the raft would be punctured and shredded to pieces against the rocks within minutes.
I grabbed the small emergency plastic paddle stowed under the bench and dug it into the swirling green water with every ounce of remaining strength in my arms. The wind fought me every inch of the way, pushing us toward the sheer wall of stone.
"Hold on to the ropes, Leo!" I shouted over the roar of the surf. "Hold on tight!"
We hit the cove with a violent jolt that threw both of us forward. The rubber hull groaned, scraping loudly against barnacle-encrusted granite. Without waiting to catch my breath, I scrambled over the side into the knee-deep, ice-cold surf, grabbed the tow-line with both hands, and hauled the raft into a narrow, dark sea cave hidden beneath an overhang of weeping rock.
The cave was dim and echoed with the hollow dripping of freshwater stalactites. As my eyes adjusted to the gloom, I saw something that made my blood run cold. Tied to a wooden pier deeper inside the cave was the sleek black Zodiac skiff that had hunted us the night before.
They were already here.
"Stay right here in the shadows, Leo," I whispered, pressing my back against the damp stone wall. I slipped off my heavy, waterlogged boots so I could move in silence. Every instinct screamed at me to turn back, to stay hidden in the dark until help miraculously appeared. But the image of Leo’s father locked away somewhere in this fortress of secrets drove me forward.
I crept along the narrow stone ledge flanking the subterranean dock, my bare feet finding purchase on the slick moss. At the end of the ledge, a heavy iron service door stood slightly ajar, warm yellow light spilling out onto the wet floor, accompanied by the muffled sound of angry voices echoing up from a stairwell beyond.
I pressed my ear against the cool metal frame.
"...she's missing the manifest copy, Adrian," a cultured, smooth voice was saying—a voice I instantly recognized as Julian Vance, the ship's primary investor. "And if Mara Voss somehow reaches the mainland with that child, our entire pharmaceutical pipeline in Seattle is finished. Federal marshals will be waiting at the dock."
Captain Adrian Ward’s voice responded, gruff and unapologetic. "The storm last night threw off the tracking beacon, Vance. The girl and the woman are at the bottom of the trench by now, food for the sharks. Trust me."
"Trust you?" Vance laughed coldly, a sound like glass sliding across concrete. "You missed her on the deck, you lost her in the water, and now you tell me to trust you? Go down to holding cell four and make sure the engine mechanic gives up the encryption codes for the cargo servers. If he won't talk, use whatever methods are necessary."
My fingers curled into tight fists against the iron door frame. They were torturing an innocent man just to protect their illegal enterprise. And worse, they were operating under the arrogant assumption that Leo and I were already dead.
I stepped quietly through the doorway into the corridor, my eyes scanning the stone-walled hallway for an escape route or a weapon. That was when I saw it lying on a metal workbench by the stairs: a heavy, brass-bound security keycard bearing the master seal of Blackwood Isle, sitting right next to a familiar silver locket that I knew belonged to Leo’s mother—a woman who hadn't been mentioned on the ship's passenger manifest at all.
As I reached out to grab the keycard, my sleeve brushed against a hanging fire extinguisher, sending it clattering loudly against the concrete floor.
May you like
From the stairwell around the corner, heavy combat boots suddenly started pounding upward.
To be continued in Chapter 6...
