"Wait, what do you mean 'gone'?" Kevin Palmer said into his radio as he paced around the kitchen area of the lighthouse. He cast a glance at the others who were listening intently, especially Theresa.
"I mean, we watched Aaron walk into the Cannery, waited ten minutes, then came in and he wasn't here anymore," Detective Bates' voice said through the radio. "I'm not sure how I can be any clearer than that."
"Well where the hell did they go?"
"My guess would be out the back and back into the tunnels," Bates said.
Kevin bit back a curse and took a deep breath. "Okay, so what's the plan now?"
"April and I will go look for him," was the answer without any hesitation.
"Alright," Kevin said. "I'll come give you a hand."
"No," Bates said. "You and Rachel are in charge of protecting the civilians and getting them off this island."
"And how are we supposed to do that?" Kevin asked, barely containing his frustration. "We haven't found a working radio, none of us have cell phones, and the only transportation we had was blown up a few hours ago."
"Figure something out," Bates said. "Start a fire and use smoke signals for all I care. Just get the message out that we need help."
"Yes, sir," Kevin said in a resigned tone.
"And April and I are going to be radio silent from here on in. So you're on your own."
A silence fell over the room he saw all of the civilians exchange glances. He looked to Rachel who took a deep breath and gave him a nod. "Understood," Kevin said into the radio. "And Bates?"
"Yeah?"
"Good luck."
"Thanks," Detective Bates said. Then there was a click on the other end of the line, indicating that he had turned off his radio.
Kevin set his radio on the table and looked at the others. "Alright, people," he said. "Let's start brainstorming ideas for contacting the mainland."
Lieutenant Grant Sheridan, commander aboard the USCGC Osprey, a coast guard patrol boat based in Port Townsend, Washington, watched the man sleeping in his bunk. Four hours earlier, just after sunset, Grant, a 29 year old with short blonde hair, had been on the bridge when he'd seen an explosion about twenty or so miles away. When they had arrived, they had found the man floating on a door, unconscious. The man hadn't stirred since they had pulled him from the water, and Grant was skeptical that he would ever wake up. Over half of his body was badly burned, he had several broken and fractured bones, and it wouldn't surprise Grant if there was damage to the man's internal organs as well. Quite frankly, it was a miracle the man hadn't died already.
"How's our patient, sir?" said a voice from the doorway. Turning, Grant saw Allyson Peters, an Ensign and his second in command on the Osprey. They had met in the Coast Guard academy and had become close friends shortly after. She was short, or "vertically challenged" as she preferred to be called, with blonde hair. And, more importantly at the moment, she was holding two cups of coffee, one of which she offered to Grant.
"No change," he said, taking the coffee. "I don't know if he's going to wake up or not, but we'd better get him to a hospital soon if he's going to have any kind of chance."
"I agree, but I think we're being optimistic to think he'll last that long."
"Probably," Grant said with a small nod.
At that moment, as if in an effort to prove them wrong, the man began to stir. Grant stopped mid sip and walked over to the man on his bed. As he watched, the man's eyes slowly opened. "I'll be damned," he said. He turned to Allyson. "He's awake." He looked back down at the man. "Hey. Can you hear me?"
With effort, the man nodded. "Okay, good. Can you tell me your name?"
"…Br…Br…Brian," the man gasped.
"Okay, Brian. My name is Grant."
"Am…I…Dead?" the man asked.
"No, you're not dead, though it's not for lack of trying on somebody's part. You're in pretty bad shape. Can you tell me what happened?"
The man closed his eyes as he tried to think. "…Explosion…Last Chance…Harper's Island."
Grant and Allyson exchanged glances. They hadn't known it at the time, but the location of the explosion had indeed been off the coast of Harper's Island. The stories of the massacres that had happened there were not unknown to them, nor was the fact that the island was now abandoned.
"What were you doing at Harper's Island?" Allyson asked.
"…Killer…kidnapped four…trying to find them…have to call…backup." His thoughts were becoming more coherent
"Backup?" Grant asked. "Backup for who?"
"Detective Bates and his team…What time…is it?"
"It's 0100," Allyson said. "You've been unconscious for almost four hours."
Brian processed this, then looked to Grant. "Call…Seattle Police…Tell them to send backup to Harper's Island…Civilians and officers in eminent danger…at least one dead, maybe more…Send everyone."
Grant turned to Allyson. "Get to the bridge and tell them what he said. If it's true, those people need help now." Allyson nodded and hurried out of the room."
Grant turned back to Brian, who managed a small smile. "Thank you," he said, laying back and closing his eyes.
Grant stayed by Brian's side until Allyson returned to confirm that the call had been made but it would be another hour before the police could get there. By that time, Brian Mitchell had died. "An hour you say?"
"Yes sir."
Grant was silent for a moment, then said. "Call Port Townsend. Tell them to muster a rescue force to meet us at Harper's Island as soon as possible. We're turning around and going there."
Though Allyson didn't say anything, her eyes were full of questions, and naturally so. She, and in fact most of the crew, were unprepared for anything like this. "There are civilians on that island with a killer, Peters. It is within our power to give them aid and that is what we will do. Wake the crew and tell them to meet me on the bridge in fifteen minutes."
Allyson gave a small salute. "Yes, sir," she said. She then turned and walked out of the room to carry out her orders.
Grant took a deep breath and finished his coffee. He looked out the window in his quarters over the bay in the direction of Harper's Island. "Hold on," he said to no one in particular. "Help is on the way. I just hope it's not too late."
