Chapter 2: The Woman Who Was Supposed to Be Dead
"Nobody moves!""
My voice echoed through the dark church.
The bikers immediately formed a perimeter.
Daniel pulled Evelyn away from the coffin while two other men rushed toward the entrance.
I kept my eyes on the black case.
The countdown continued.
00:03:08.
00:03:07.
A small red light blinked near its lower edge.
It looked like some kind of security device.
"Boss, we need to get out of here," Daniel said.
"Not without that case.""
"Marcus," Evelyn whispered.
I turned toward her.
She was shaking so badly that Daniel had to hold her upright.
"Tell me what you know.""
She looked toward the open coffin.
"I can't.""
"Your sister is missing. The funeral director is missing. My wife's body isn't here. And there's a machine inside a coffin counting down.""
"I know.""
"Then start talking.""
She pressed both hands against her mouth.
"I promised her.""
I stepped closer.
"Promised whom?""
Evelyn looked at me.
"Your wife.""
The words seemed to drain the air from my lungs.
I grabbed the edge of a pew.
"What did you say?""
"She came to see me two nights before the funeral.""
I stared at her.
"She was alive?""
Evelyn nodded.
"Yes.""
"Where is she?""
"I don't know.""
"Don't lie to me.""
"I'm not lying!""
Her voice broke.
"She was frightened, Marcus. She said people were following her. She said she had discovered something dangerous, something involving the people who owned the company you worked for.""
I frowned.
"What company?""
"Blackstone Holdings.""
My stomach tightened.
Blackstone Holdings.
I had spent eleven years working security contracts for that corporation before retiring from active duty and opening my motorcycle repair business.
The company had been involved in government transportation contracts, private security operations, and several overseas infrastructure projects.
I knew its founder.
Edward Voss.
A man with enough money to buy politicians and enough influence to make problems disappear.
"Why would my wife be involved with Blackstone?""
Evelyn shook her head.
"She never told me everything.""
"Then what did she tell you?""
"That someone had stolen a list of names. People who were supposed to have died in accidents, fires, and medical emergencies.""
Daniel looked up.
"Dead people?""
Evelyn nodded.
"She said some of them were still alive.""
I stared at the black case.
The countdown reached two minutes.
"What does that have to do with this?""
Evelyn reached into her handbag and pulled out a folded piece of paper.
"She gave me this.""
I opened it.
It was a photograph.
An old photograph.
It showed a woman standing beside a motorcycle outside a roadside diner.
The woman was wearing a red jacket.
Her face was unmistakable.
My wife.
But the man standing beside her was someone I hadn't seen in almost fifteen years.
My younger brother, Nathan.
I felt the photograph slip slightly between my fingers.
Nathan had died in a warehouse fire.
At least, that was what I had been told.
I remembered the funeral.
I remembered the coffin.
I remembered the smell of smoke still clinging to his leather jacket.
I remembered standing beside his grave while my father cried.
I had watched them lower that coffin into the ground.
"Where did she get this?"" I asked.
Evelyn looked away.
"She said Nathan was alive.""
For several seconds, I couldn't hear anything.
Not the rain beginning against the stained-glass windows.
Not the movement of the bikers.
Not even the countdown.
My brother was dead.
I had buried him.
I had carried his ashes in a small silver urn for years.
"That's impossible," I whispered.
Evelyn shook her head.
"She said the fire was staged.""
I turned toward her.
"Why would anyone fake my brother's death?""
"Because Nathan had something they wanted.""
"What?""
"The blue key.""
I looked at the black case.
The blue light beneath the screen pulsed again.
"What's the blue key?""
Evelyn swallowed.
"I don't know. Your wife said it was the only way to access the original files.""
"Where are those files?""
"She said Nathan knew.""
I took a step backward.
The entire story was becoming more complicated with every sentence.
Then Daniel called from the entrance.
"Boss!""
I turned.
He was holding something in his hand.
A mobile phone.
The screen was cracked, but it was still receiving a call.
"Found this outside," he said.
I recognized the phone immediately.
It belonged to Richard Cole.
I answered.
"Where are you?""
Static.
Then a man's voice.
"Marcus Hayes?""
"Who is this?""
"Someone who has been trying to keep your family alive.""
I tightened my grip.
"Where's my wife?""
A pause.
"She's not where you think she is.""
"Tell me where she is.""
"Listen carefully. You have less than two minutes before that device destroys everything inside the coffin.""
I looked at the countdown.
00:01:31.
"What device?""
"The one your wife left for you.""
"How do I stop it?""
"Find the silver switch underneath the case.""
I crouched and examined the metal box.
There it was.
A tiny silver lever hidden beneath the edge.
But before I could touch it, the man spoke again.
"Do not activate it until you understand what it contains.""
"Who are you?""
A long silence followed.
Then he said something that made my blood turn cold.
"I'm Nathan.""
The call ended.
I stared at the phone.
Daniel approached slowly.
"Boss?""
I couldn't speak.
My brother had just called me.
The brother I had buried fifteen years ago.
The brother whose death had nearly destroyed our family.
And somewhere beyond those church walls, he was still alive.
The countdown reached forty seconds.
I looked at Evelyn.
"Did you know?""
She shook her head.
"No.""
"Did you know Nathan was alive?""
"No, Marcus. I swear.""
I turned the case around.
There was a tiny fingerprint scanner beneath the silver lever.
A label had been engraved beside it.
*BLOOD RELATIVE REQUIRED.*
Daniel looked at my hand.
Then at the label.
"Boss, don't.""
I took my pocketknife.
Made a small cut across my thumb.
And pressed it against the scanner.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then the screen turned green.
A mechanical click sounded inside the case.
The countdown stopped.
A message appeared.
*WELCOME HOME, MARCUS.*
And beneath it, a photograph loaded.
My father.
Sitting in a hospital bed.
With a date stamped across the bottom.
Tomorrow.
I stared at the screen.
My father had been dead for six years.
But the photograph was recent.
Very recent.
Then another message appeared.
*SUBJECT: JOHN HAYES.*
May you like
*LOCATION: BLACKSTONE MEDICAL FACILITY.*
*STATUS: ALIVE.*
