The Tide Also Rises by Mac Fortner

Author:Mac Fortner [Fortner, Mac]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-09-29T16:00:00+00:00

“UNDERSTOOD,” KAILEY responded, and with that, she glanced at the man who was tied to the chair in her bungalow.

Kailey hung up and stood. “My plans are changed,” she said to the bound man. “Are you going to tell me who has the documents for the nuclear missile control?”

The man stared into Kailey’s eyes with a determined will. “Never,” he said.

Kailey picked up the silenced pistol on the dresser and shot the man in the forehead.

I APPROACHED THE WORN and abandoned-looking house. It seemed out of place in its tropical surroundings—a relic from a bygone era.

As I neared the house, I spotted Pedro stepping out onto the porch. I could see the sweat glistening on his forehead as he scanned the area with a sense of unease.

I ducked behind a cluster of overgrown bushes, their thorns pricking at my skin. I held my breath, watching intently as Pedro paced back and forth on the porch.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Pedro turned and stepped back inside the house.

I crept closer to the house, ready to face whatever challenges awaited me within its walls.

I reached the back door and paused for a moment, listening intently for any signs of movement inside. Satisfied that the coast was clear, I carefully pushed the door open and slipped inside, my gun at the ready.

The house was darker than I expected, the sunlight barely penetrating the dusty windows. It felt like stepping into another time, where secrets lay hidden beneath layers of decay. My footsteps seemed to echo through the silence, each creaking floorboard setting my nerves on edge.

As I made my way through the dimly lit rooms, I caught the faint scent of food wafting through the air. Following my nose, I found myself in the kitchen, where Pedro stood with his back to me, fixing lunch. The savory aroma almost made me forget why I was there.

“Put your hands in the air,” I ordered in a low, steady voice, my gun aimed squarely at Pedro’s back.

He froze, his body tensing as he slowly raised his hands above his head. “What do you want?” he demanded, fear evident in his voice.

“Take me to Casey,” I responded firmly, maintaining my aim. Pedro hesitated for a moment, glancing nervously around the kitchen before nodding in resignation.

“Alright, come with me,” he said, leading me through the dark, narrow halls of the house. Each step we took only heightened the suspense, the weight of what was happening settling heavily on me.

“Where is he?” I asked, my impatience growing by the second.

“Upstairs,” Pedro replied, his voice shaking. “In one of the bedrooms.”

We reached the top of the staircase, and Pedro led me down another dimly lit hallway. The thick air hung heavy with the scent of mildew and neglect.

“Here,” Pedro whispered, stopping in front of a worn, wooden door. I pushed it open. I saw Casey, bound and gagged, slumped against the wall. Relief washed over me as I saw he was still alive, though it was clear he had been through hell.

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