Chapter 42
Storm Chaser
David crouchedbeside the weathered storage shed, the earth cool and damp beneath his boots, the air thick with jungle heat and the scent of moss and iron-rich soil. His palms were slick against the tablet, its display black under his fingertips, turned off to avoid detection. Stillness pressed down—not silence, not with the high chirr of insects and rustle of leaves—but that eerie, anticipatory hush that came with predators waiting.
He sipped air in shallow, measured breaths. Controlled. His calm exterior belied the coiled readiness within; his nerves honed to a wire’s edge. The fabric of his shirt clung to his shoulders, damp with perspiration that had nothing to do with the air temperature and everything to do with the wire-taut apprehension singing through his muscles.
This waiting—this anticipation—it scraped against every instinct that told him to move, to act, to dosomething.
Further out, deeper in the emerald-dark brush, Zach waited like a wolf—disciplined, lethal, and invisible in the jungle night. Even knowing where he should be, David couldn’t spot him, a testament to how damn good Zach was. His brother had always possessed that talent—the ability to become a shadow, to slipbetween the spaces where normal men existed and occupy some place else entirely.
He remembered when, as teens playing war games, Zach would hide so well that David would give up searching and Nick would cheat and use his telepathy to find their brother’s hiding spot.
Now, that skill served a darker purpose.
Beyond Zach, Nick held the mind link open. The connection rested at the edge of David’s awareness—a steady presence, not intrusive, just there. A quiet reminder that he wasn’t alone in this. That his brothers were listening. Ready.
A flicker of memory flashed—Nick in Lena’s office, his power spike—and David held onto the thought, long enough for unease to splinter down his spine. Could Lena be amplifying him too? They hadn’t done any testing yet.
The possibility sat like a stone in his gut. If she magnified Nick’s telepathy simply by proximity, what might happen with long-term exposure? Look what happened in the server room when she touched him. Would his own ability explode outward, uncontrolled? Would he hear every device on the island screaming into his awareness at once?
He shelved the worry with practiced efficiency. One problem at a time. Tonight’s problem had a face—or would, soon enough.
Zach’s voice slid into his mind, sharp and dry:You sure he’ll come?
Mental communication always sounded different from spoken words. It bypassed his ears, manifesting as thought that somehow carried Zach’s particular cadence, his inflection, the subtle weights and pauses that made it unmistakably his brother’s consciousness touching his own.
I baited him right.He’s already tried twice to breach the water controller—a vulnerable point that looked like it belonged to internal staff. I laid aphantom admin login, visible just enough to the right scan. A juicy, blinking vulnerability.
He dispatched a string of commands into the tablet’s interface, watching the line of fake data light up like a fuse. Each command sent a whisper of feedback through his ability—not quite sensation, not quite sound, but awareness. The network acknowledged his touch, his commands, his presence.
The signal fire’s burning. We wait.
He hated waiting.
Hated it with the specific frustration of a mind that ran at processor speed while his body remained stubbornly, inconveniently human. His thoughts ran a dozen scenarios in seconds—what the saboteur might try, how Zach would counter, what Nick might sense—while he crouched in the dirt, holding position, counting heartbeats. Gnats hovered near his ear. His knees ached from staying still too long.
Time stretched.
Sweat slid down the back of his neck. The jungle breathed around him—warm, close, alive. Leaves shifted, shadows flickering at the edge of his vision. The air smelled green and damp, thick with decay and growth tangled together. Tourists called it romantic. Residents knew better.
Have I mentioned I hate waiting?
Zach’s mental snort of laughter in response distracted him.This was your plan.
Something shifted behind him—too small to be a threat. An iguana, maybe, pushing through palm fronds. Still, the movement sent adrenaline through his veins. His heart jumped, rabbit-quick for three beats before logic caught up.
Just wildlife. Just the jungle.
His body didn’t buy it. It stayed coiled, ready.
David adjusted the tablet, keeping the connection between his mind and the network alive. He skimmed the resort’ssystems—surveillance feeds steady, climate controls checking in, guest Wi-Fi traffic pulsing in uneven bursts. All normal.
And there it was.
The vulnerability he’d built.
Clean. Tempting. A flaw obvious enough to be found by someone hunting for it. Subtle enough not to scream trap.
