IN LOVE WITH MY BROTHER'S WIFE

EPISODE 5

"We have twenty minutes."

I slammed the truck door shut. The engine roared to life, shaking the rusted frame of the pickup.

Sarah jumped into the passenger seat. She was still flushed, her lips red and swollen from my kiss. Her chest was heaving. But the look in her eyes had shifted. The lust was still there, burning under the surface, but now it was mixed with terror.

"The Cannery is on the other side of the bay," she said, checking her watch. "Jack, if we hit mud on the logging road..."

"We won't," I said. I slammed the gearshift into drive. "Hold on."

I floored it. The truck spun its tires on the wet gravel, fishtailing wildly before gripping the road. We shot out of the salvage yard like a bullet.

The drive was a blur of rain and darkness. The headlights cut through the storm, illuminating flashes of trees and black water.

Inside the cab, the air was thick. Heavy.

Every time I shifted gears, my hand brushed near Sarah’s knee. Every time the truck bounced, her shoulder hit mine.

Ten minutes ago, I had her legs wrapped around my waist. Ten minutes ago, my hands were under her sweater, touching skin that belonged to my brother.

The guilt was a sour taste in my mouth. But the want? The want was a fire I couldn't put out.

"Jack," she whispered. She wasn't looking at the road. She was looking at me.

"Don't," I said, gripping the wheel until my knuckles hurt. "Focus, Sarah. We have to think about Maya."

"I can't focus," she admitted. Her voice was raw. "You... you kissed me."

"I know."

"You didn't stop because you wanted to," she said. "You stopped because of the message."

I risked a glance at her. Her eyes were searching mine, looking for the truth.

"I stopped because you're married," I lied.

"He's gone, Jack," she said fiercely. "And even if he comes back... I don't know if I can go back to how it was. Not after what I found in that box. Not after the lies."

"We don't know the whole truth yet," I said.

"I know one truth," she whispered. She reached out and placed her hand on my thigh. Her fingers dug into the denim of my jeans. The heat of her hand seared through the fabric. "I felt safe with you back there. I haven't felt safe in a long time."

My breath hitched. I wanted to cover her hand with mine. I wanted to pull the truck over and finish what we started in the garage.

But the image of Maya tied to a chair flashed in my mind.

"We're here," I said, my voice rough.

I pulled the truck off the main road. The Old Cannery loomed ahead. It was a massive, rotting skeleton of a building sitting on the edge of the water. The roof had collapsed in places. The windows were jagged teeth of broken glass.

It smelled of dead fish, rust, and low tide.

I killed the headlights. We rolled to a stop in the shadows of a large shipping container.

"Stay here," I said.

"No." Sarah opened her door. "She's my friend. And I'm not waiting in the car while you get killed."

She reached under the seat and pulled out a heavy flashlight. She gripped it like a club. "I'm coming."

I looked at her. She was terrified, shaking in the cold rain. But her jaw was set. She was a fighter.

"Okay," I said. "But stay behind me. And if I say run, you run. You don't look back. You run."

"I'm not leaving you," she said.

We moved toward the dark building.

The inside of the cannery was a nightmare.

Rain dripped through holes in the roof, echoing on the metal catwalks above. Drip. Drip. Drip. The wind whistled through the broken windows like a dying animal.

Old conveyor belts rusted in the gloom. Chains hung from the ceiling.

We crept forward, stepping over piles of debris. I held a large wrench I’d grabbed from the truck. It wasn't a gun, but it was heavy.

"Hello?" a voice whimpered.

We froze.

It came from the center of the main floor. The "kill floor," where they used to process the tuna.

I signaled Sarah to stay low. We crouched behind a rusted boiler.

In the center of the room, a single battery-powered lantern sat on a crate. The light was harsh and white.

Maya was there.

She was tied to a metal chair with zip ties. Her mouth was taped shut with silver duct tape. Her eyes were wide, darting around in panic. She had a bruise on her cheek.

She saw us. She started making muffled noises. Mmmph! Mmmph!

She was shaking her head violently.

It’s a trap.

I knew it was a trap. But we had to spring it.

I stood up, holding the wrench clearly in my hand.

"We're here!" I shouted. My voice echoed in the vast, empty space. "Let her go!"

From the shadows on the catwalk above, a slow clap sounded. Clap. Clap. Clap.

" punctual," a voice said. It was deep, distorted. The same voice from the phone.

A figure stepped into the light of the lantern.

It was a man. He was huge. He wore a dark raincoat and heavy boots. And on his face, he wore a black ski mask.

He held a pistol in his hand. He pointed it casually at Maya’s head.

"The drive," the man said. "Put it on the floor. Kick it to me."

"Let her go first," I said. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the flash drive. I held it up so the light caught the silver casing.

"Not how this works, hero," the man growled. He c****d the hammer of the gun. Click.

Maya whimpered. Tears streamed down her face.

I looked at the man. He was big, but he was slow. I could tell by the way he stood. Flat-footed.

I looked at the environment. Above the man, a heavy iron chain hung from a pulley system. It was swaying slightly in the wind. The hook at the end was heavy, rusty iron.

The rope for the pulley was tied to a cleat on the wall near me.

"Jack," Sarah whispered from behind me. "Give it to him."

"I'm thinking," I hissed.

"Don't think," the man said. "Five seconds. One."

"Okay!" I shouted. "Okay. I'm putting it down."

I crouched slowly. I placed the drive on the wet concrete.

"Kick it," the man ordered.

I stood up. I pulled my leg back.

But I didn't kick the drive.

I spun around and swung the heavy wrench with all my strength.

CLANG!

I smashed the rusted cleat on the wall. The metal snapped.

The rope flew loose.

Above the man’s head, the pulley screamed. The heavy iron chain and hook dropped like a stone.

The man looked up. "What the—"

CRASH.

The hook didn't hit him directly, but it smashed into the wooden crate he was standing next to. The lantern exploded. Wood splinters flew everywhere. The floor shook.

The man stumbled back, losing his balance. His gun fired wildly into the ceiling. BANG!

"Run!" I screamed.

I charged.

I didn't run away. I ran at him.

The man was still recovering from the shock. I lowered my shoulder and tackled him around the waist.

It was like hitting a brick wall. He grunted, but he didn't go down. He smelled of tobacco and stale sweat.

He dropped the gun, but he grabbed me. His hands were massive. He got one hand around my throat and squeezed.

"Little brother," he hissed in my ear. "You should have stayed in the garage."

My vision started to spot. He was crushing my windpipe. I clawed at his mask, trying to rip it off. I wanted to see his face.

I saw grey eyes. Cold, dead eyes.

He pulled back a fist to smash my face in.

THWACK.

The man howled in pain.

Sarah.

She had run out from behind the boiler. She swung the heavy flashlight like a baseball bat, connecting hard with the man's kidney.

His grip on my throat loosened just enough.

I gasped for air. I brought my knee up, driving it into his groin.

He groaned and doubled over.

"Get Maya!" I choked out.

I shoved the man backward into the darkness. He tripped over the debris.

I grabbed the flash drive from the floor. I grabbed the gun he had dropped. It was heavy, cold steel.

"Jack!" Sarah screamed.

She was using a pocket knife to slice the zip ties on Maya’s wrists. Snap. Snap.

Maya fell forward into Sarah’s arms, sobbing hysterically. She ripped the tape off her mouth.

"He's coming back!" Maya screamed.

I raised the gun, pointing it into the shadows where the man had fallen.

"Stay back!" I yelled. "I'll kill you!"

Silence from the dark. Then, a scraping sound. A door slamming in the back of the cannery.

He was gone.

My knees gave out. I slumped against a pillar, still holding the gun. My throat felt like it was on fire.

Sarah was there instantly. She didn't care about the mud or the blood. She dropped to her knees in front of me.

"Jack," she said, her hands flying to my neck. "Let me see. Oh god, let me see."

Her fingers were gentle on my bruised skin. Her eyes were wide with panic.

"I'm fine," I croaked. "I'm fine."

"You're not fine," she said. Her voice broke. "He almost killed you."

"But he didn't," I said. I looked at her. "Because of you. You saved me."

She looked at me, breathing hard. The adrenaline was crashing through both of us. The danger had stripped away all the polite walls.

She leaned in and pressed her forehead against mine. I closed my eyes, soaking in her warmth. I could feel her shaking.

"I couldn't watch him hurt you," she whispered. "I couldn't."

For a moment, we forgot Maya. We forgot the rain. There was just the two of us, huddled on the dirty floor of a fish factory, bound together by violence.

Then, a sob broke the spell.

We looked over. Maya was sitting on the floor, rubbing her wrists. She looked terrified.

"Is he gone?" she asked weakly.

"He's gone," I said. I stood up, wincing, and helped Sarah up. Then we helped Maya.

"We need to get out of here," I said. "Before he brings friends."

We drove back toward town, but we didn't go home. We pulled into a secluded rest stop overlooking the bay. It was dark and quiet.

Maya sat in the middle, between me and Sarah. She was shivering under the wool blanket. Sarah had her arm around her, whispering soothing words.

"Maya," I said gently. "Why did they take you? Why you?"

Maya took a shaky sip from a water bottle we had in the truck. She looked at me with haunted eyes.

"Because of the envelope," she whispered.

"What envelope?" Sarah asked.

"Danny came to see me," Maya said. "Two days before he disappeared. He didn't come to the counter. He met me in the parking lot after my shift."

I gripped the steering wheel. "What did he want?"

"He gave me a thick envelope," Maya said. "He looked... he looked crazy, Jack. Sweating. Eyes bloodshot. He told me I was the only one at the bank he trusted because I was new. He said the manager was 'in on it.'"

"In on what?" I asked.

"I don't know," she sobbed. "He gave me the envelope and told me to put it in Safety Deposit Box 404."

"Does he have a key for Box 404?" I asked.

"No," Maya said. She reached into her bra and pulled out a small, flat object.

It was a brass key.

"He told me to keep the key," she said. "He said, 'If anything happens to me, give this to Jack. But only Jack. Don't give it to Sarah.'"

Sarah stiffened next to her. The silence in the truck was deafening.

"Why?" Sarah asked, her voice trembling. "Why not me?"

Maya looked at Sarah, then looked down at her lap.

"He said..." Maya swallowed hard. "He said, 'Sarah is the reason I have to do this. But she's also the liability.'"

"Liability?" Sarah whispered. The word hung in the air like a slap.

I took the key from Maya’s shaking hand. It was warm.

"Did he tell you what's in the box?" I asked.

Maya nodded slowly.

"He said it's insurance," she said. "He said it's a ledger. A list of names. The people who are paying him to move the cargo."

"What cargo?" I asked.

Maya looked up at me. Her face was pale in the dashboard lights.

"Not gold, Jack," she whispered. "Danny wasn't diving for gold. He was diving for something else. Something the government lost down there in the Cold War."

I stared at her. "The Gilded Lady... it's not a ship."

"No," Maya said. "He told me the ship is just the cover. It's what's under the ship that matters. He called it 'The Silo'."

I looked at Sarah. Her face was a mask of horror.

"A silo?" Sarah said. "Like... a missile silo?"

"I don't know," Maya said. "But he said one more thing. He said the Third Diver isn't a person."

"What?" I asked.

"He said the Third Diver is a program," Maya said. "An automated defense system. And Danny... he accidentally turned it on."

My blood ran cold.

The video. The figure in the black suit with the spear gun. The robotic movements. The lack of bubbles.

It wasn't a man in a suit.

"We need to go to the bank," I said, starting the truck. "We need to get that ledger."

"We can't," Maya said.

"Why not?"

"Because," she whispered. "The man who tied me up... the man in the mask... he asked me where the key was. I didn't tell him. But he took my ID badge."

She looked at us, tears welling up again.

"He's going to the bank, Jack. He's going to empty the box."