Chapter 16 - THE THIRTY-MINUTE ULTIMATUM
Blackwood Point was a razor-thin peninsula jutting out into the ocean, surrounded by jagged rocks and fifty-foot sheer cliffs where the icy waves crashed violently. At the tip sat the abandoned 19th-century lighthouse, its iron structure rusted and decaying under the black storm clouds.
Mark’s SUV skidded to a halt at the base of the rocky path. Ocean spray whipped across his face as he stepped out into the howling gale. Vance ran alongside him, holding his firearm low.
"Mark, listen to me," Vance shouted over the roar of the ocean waves. "The lighthouse has only one spiral staircase going up. If she’s at the top, she has the high ground. It’s a death trap!"
"She has my daughter, Vance!" Mark yelled back. "Cover the perimeter! I’m going up!"
Mark kicked open the heavy iron door at the base of the lighthouse. Dark, dank air filled with the smell of salt, oil, and rust washed over him. The rusted iron staircase wound endlessly upward into total darkness.
"Mark..." a soft, sweet voice echoed down from the top of the tower—a voice that made Mark’s heart stop in his chest.
It was Clara’s voice. The exact pitch, the exact gentle cadence of his late wife.
May you like
"Mark, darling... bring the ledger up," the voice purred down through the darkness. "Sophie misses her daddy. Come see how much your sweet girl has grown."
Mark gripped the iron handrail, his knuckles white, and began his ascent into the mouth of the storm.
