Chapter 2 - The Spark in the DarkThe beam of Victor's flashlight swept across the pallet right above my head. Dust particles danced in the harsh light.
"Hey! Over here!" the second man yelled from the far end of the depot. "I found fresh shoe prints near the loading bay!"
Victor paused, his boot inches from my hiding space. "Check the alley. I’ll sweep this corner one more time."
The moment Victor turned his back to inspect a rusted oil drum, I moved with absolute, terrifying precision. Crawling on my elbows and knees, ignoring the agonizing burn across my shoulder blades, I slithered toward the brick pillar.
The junction box was partially open, its copper wiring exposed and green with corrosion. My fingers trembled as I unrolled the soft cotton t-shirt and pulled out the tiny circuit board. The board had two bare lead wires hanging from its base—an emergency bypass my father had engineered for testing.
If I connect this to a live circuit, I thought, my heart hammering against my chest, the feedback loop will trigger a localized electromagnetic surge. It will fry their flashlights—and maybe the main transformer outside.
"What do we have here?" Victor’s voice sneered from directly behind me.
I spun around. The blinding beam of his flashlight caught me square in the face.
Victor smiled, a cruel, jagged grin stretching across his scarred face. He held a pair of heavy steel handcuffs in one hand and a stun gun in the other. "Well, well. Look at the little rat. Harrison said you were smart, Maya, but running off into a dark warehouse with no money and nowhere to go? That’s just sad."
"Don't touch me," I gasped, my voice raspy from the cold air and pure terror.
"Or what?" Victor stepped closer, raising the stun gun. The blue electric arc crackled violently between its prongs. "Your mother is crying her eyes out at home, telling herself you’re just having a teenage breakdown. Harrison is waiting in his office. You're coming home, little girl. And you're going to give back what you stole."
"I didn't steal anything!" I shouted, backing my spine directly up against the damp junction box. "He stole my father’s life!"
"Nobody cares about your dead dad," Victor spat, taking the final step toward me. He reached out a massive, gloved hand to grab my hair.
I didn't flinch. Instead, I jammed the two exposed lead wires of my father’s circuit board straight into the live terminals of the 440-volt junction box.
CRACK!
A blinding, violet flash exploded from the junction box. The sound was like a thunderclap echoing inside a steel drum. A wave of raw electromagnetic energy surged through the air, instantly overloading the bulbs in Victor's high-powered flashlight and detonating the lithium battery inside his stun gun.
The stun gun exploded in Victor’s hand with a shower of blue sparks. He screamed in pain, dropping the weapon as the electric charge shot up his forearm, knocking him backward onto the hard concrete.
BANG!
Outside, the main industrial power transformer exploded, plunging the entire street into pitch-black darkness. Emergency alarms began to blare from nearby warehouses across the industrial park.
"Victor! What the hell was that?!" his partner yelled from the loading bay, his frantic footsteps echoing in the dark.
I didn't wait to find out. Driven by pure adrenaline, I grabbed my backpack, scrambled over the dazed and groaning form of Victor, and bolted toward the depot's side exit.
The cool night air hit my lungs like a shock of ice water. I sprinted through the dark alleys of the industrial district, my sneakers slapping against the wet asphalt, the blaring sirens echoing behind me like a chorus of warning bells.
I ran until my chest felt like it was going to burst, until my legs turned to lead, and until the industrial park was miles behind me.
When I finally slowed to a walk, I found myself standing in front of the neon sign of an all-night truck stop on the edge of Interstate 95. The buzzing red and blue letters flickered against the dark sky: THE DUSTY ROSE DINER & GAS STATION.
I stood near the edge of the neon light, drenched in sweat, trembling from cold and exhaustion.
I pulled out my wallet. The crumpled one-dollar bill was still there, wet with sweat.
I was sixteen. I was a fugitive from a wealthy, dangerous man who controlled the local police, owned the town’s mayor, and held my mother hostage under a web of lies. I had no money, no place to sleep, and no allies.
Then, through the glass window of the diner, I saw a battered silver pickup truck parked near the payphone. Sitting inside the cab was an elderly man wearing a faded navy blue cap with an emblem I recognized instantly: AETHER TECH DYNAMICS - RETIRED STAFF.
My breath caught in my throat.
May you like
My father hadn't worked alone. Before Harrison took over the company, Garrett Wilson had a lead lab engineer—a man who had resigned mysteriously three days after my father's death and vanished from public life.
His name was Arthur Vance. Harrison's estranged older brother.
