Chapter 7 - When the emergency lights returned, Logan was gone.His phone lay on the floor.
Blood covered the screen.
I grabbed it.
“Logan!”
No answer.
Daniel rushed toward the tunnel.
Cole stopped him.
“Wrong direction.”
Daniel turned.
“What?”
“He wasn't taken.”
I looked at Cole.
“What do you mean?”
Cole pointed at the blood.
“Too much for a kidnapping.”
I examined it.
He was right.
The blood wasn't splattered.
It had been placed.
A distraction.
I looked toward Logan's phone.
The screen displayed one message.
FOLLOW THE BLUE HOUSE.
My house.
“No.”
I ran.
Daniel followed.
Cole remained behind.
“Cole!”
He shouted after us.
“Bennett!”
I turned.
“Trust no one.”
I didn't know whether he meant Daniel.
Or Logan.
Or himself.
We reached the house.
The front door was open.
Lights were on.
Someone had entered.
I drew my weapon.
Daniel whispered:
“Claire.”
“Shh.”
We moved room by room.
No one.
Then I heard a noise upstairs.
A chair scraping.
I ran.
The sound came from Evan's room.
I opened the door.
Logan was there.
His hands were tied.
His face was bruised.
Alive.
I cut the restraints.
“What happened?”
He struggled to breathe.
“Your house.”
“What?”
“They brought me here.”
“Who?”
He pointed toward the wall.
“I don't know.”
Daniel examined the room.
I noticed something.
The wall behind Evan's bed was slightly different.
New paint.
Fresh screws.
I removed the frame.
A hidden compartment appeared.
Inside was a metal box.
My name was engraved on it.
I opened it.
Inside were military dog tags.
Five pairs.
Marcus.
Thomas.
Anthony.
Two unknown.
And mine.
I looked at Daniel.
“Why is my name here?”
He didn't answer.
Logan leaned against the desk.
“My father has one too.”
I turned.
“What?”
“He wears it around his neck when he thinks no one sees.”
My heart pounded.
“What's written on it?”
Logan swallowed.
“Not a name.”
“A number.”
“What number?”
“Seventeen.”
Silence.
Daniel looked at me.
“Seventeen.”
I understood.
The number from Evan's folder.
JH_17.
I opened the flash drive again.
A hidden directory appeared.
I clicked.
One image.
My house.
Not today.
Twenty years earlier.
My blood ran cold.
The image showed my house being built.
Workers stood outside.
And among them was Victor Whitmore.
But Victor wasn't the only recognizable face.
Beside him stood my former commander.
Adrian Cole.
Then another man.
A young Grant Whitmore.
And a woman.
Logan's mother.
She was holding a baby.
Daniel stared at the image.
“That can't be.”
I zoomed in.
The baby was Logan.
The date was impossible.
Because the picture had been taken before Logan was born.
Daniel whispered:
“That's not Logan.”
I looked again.
Same face.
Same scar near the eyebrow.
Same impossible resemblance.
Then the file displayed a name.
SUBJECT 17.
I looked at Logan.
“What does that mean?”
He stared at me.
“I don't know.”
Suddenly, a car engine roared outside.
Headlights flashed through the window.
I pushed everyone down.
A vehicle crashed through the front gate.
Three men jumped out.
Armed.
Daniel returned fire.
Glass exploded.
We moved upstairs.
Logan grabbed a baseball bat.
I almost laughed.
“What?”
He looked at it.
“This is all I have.”
“Stay behind me.”
“I'm not a child.”
“I know.”
I looked him in the eyes.
“That's why I'm giving you a weapon.”
He nodded.
We moved.
The attackers entered.
One climbed the stairs.
I waited.
Footsteps.
Three.
Two.
One.
I struck.
The first man went down.
Logan took the second by surprise.
Daniel handled the third.
Silence.
Then we heard sirens.
Police.
But I knew something was wrong.
The attackers hadn't tried to kill us.
They had been searching.
For the box.
I looked at it.
Then at Logan.
“Your father knows about this.”
Logan shook his head.
“My father knows nothing.”
“Then why does he wear seventeen?”
He had no answer.
Minutes later, police arrived.
But before they came inside, my phone buzzed.
One message.
From an unknown number.
A photograph of Evan.
Alive.
And beside him stood Victor Whitmore.
Underneath:
BRING SUBJECT 17 TO THE LAKE.
I looked at Logan.
His face went white.
“What lake?”
I stared at the screen.
The answer came from Daniel.
“Frozen Lake.”
May you like
He whispered:
“The place where Black River began.”
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