The fifth founder
856 Words
Chapter 18
The loudspeaker crackled again.
“Amora Cole!”
“You have one minute.”
Outside, beams of light swept across the cabin walls.
The men in black spread out, surrounding every exit.
Inside, the air was thick with tension.
Claire stood frozen near the door, guilt written across her face.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
“I didn’t know they were following me.”
Ethan peered through a narrow gap in the shutters.
“They’re preparing to come in.”
He turned to Amora.
“Listen carefully. When I give the signal, you and Claire leave through the back window.”
“What about you?”
“I’ll buy you time.”
“No.”
Amora shook her head firmly.
“I’m not leaving you.”
“You have the diary, Noah’s letter, and the Raven Files. If they get those, everything your father and brother died for is gone.”
Before she could answer—
CRASH!
The front door burst inward.
Men in black tactical gear flooded into the cabin.
“Move!”
Ethan shoved the table onto its side, creating a barrier.
“Go!”
Amora grabbed the leather satchel holding the evidence.
Claire pulled open the back window.
The three of them scrambled into the rain-soaked woods just as gunfire erupted behind them.
Bullets splintered the cabin walls.
Branches whipped against Amora’s face as they ran.
“Keep moving!” Ethan shouted.
⸻
After several frantic minutes, they reached the abandoned railway tracks.
The old station loomed ahead, its broken clock forever frozen at 11:47.
Amora stopped abruptly.
“The watch.”
Ethan looked at her.
“Noah’s watch stopped at 11:47.”
“And now the station clock…”
He stared at the clock tower.
“It can’t be a coincidence.”
Claire pointed toward the platform.
“The lockers are over there!”
They sprinted inside.
Dust covered the floor.
Broken benches lay scattered across the waiting room.
Against the far wall stood a row of rusted storage lockers.
Amora counted aloud.
“Twenty-three… twenty-four… twenty-five…”
Her pulse quickened.
“Twenty-six…”
Finally—
“Twenty-seven.”
She pulled the brass key from her pocket.
Her hands trembled as she inserted it into the lock.
For a terrifying second, it refused to turn.
Then—
Click.
The locker door creaked open.
Inside sat a small steel case.
Unlike the rusted box beneath the oak tree, this one looked almost new.
A combination lock secured the lid.
Claire frowned.
“There’s another lock.”
Ethan examined it closely.
“It needs four numbers.”
Amora thought of Noah’s watch.
Then of the station clock.
“Eleven…”
“Forty-seven.”
She entered 1147.
The lock released with a soft metallic snap.
Inside the case were several documents…
A bundle of photographs…
A USB flash drive…
And a sealed file marked:
RAVEN CIRCLE — FOUNDING MEMBERS
Amora slowly opened the file.
Inside was a typed list.
Richard Hawthorne.
Michael Carter.
Victor Langston.
Harold Pierce.
She swallowed hard.
Only one name remained hidden beneath another sheet of paper.
With trembling fingers, she lifted it.
The fifth name came into view.
Her blood ran cold.
Sheriff Daniel Brooks.
“No…”
Claire whispered.
“That can’t be true.”
Ethan stared at the page in disbelief.
“It explains everything.”
“He always knew where we were.”
“He had access to the evidence.”
“He could erase records.”
Amora’s mind raced.
Had the sheriff been lying from the beginning?
Or had someone planted his name?
Before anyone could speak—
A slow clap echoed through the station.
They spun around.
Sheriff Daniel Brooks stepped out of the shadows.
His hands were raised.
He wasn’t holding a weapon.
“I was wondering when you’d find that file.”
Ethan immediately stood in front of Amora.
“Don’t come any closer.”
The sheriff stopped.
“I know what you’re thinking.”
“Do you?”
Ethan’s voice was cold.
“Your name is on the list.”
Brooks looked at the document and sighed.
“Yes.”
“It is.”
Amora’s heart shattered.
“You lied to us.”
The sheriff met her eyes.
“No.”
“I’ve been trying to protect you.”
“Then explain this!”
She held up the file.
Brooks took a slow breath.
“My name is on that list…”
“…because my father was one of the founders.”
Silence filled the station.
“I inherited his badge…”
He looked down, pain etched across his face.
“…and his enemies.”
Before Amora could respond, a single gunshot echoed through the station.
The sheriff staggered.
A crimson stain spread across his shoulder.
He collapsed to one knee.
A familiar voice rang out from the darkness.
“I told you…”
The man in the black suit stepped into the light, a pistol still smoking in his hand.
“…trust is a dangerous thing.”
He smiled as more armed men surrounded the station.
“This game…”
“…is finally coming to an end.”
- Writer
