JJ
The safehouse was an old cabin nestled deep in the woods, the kind of place where you could disappear and no one would ever find you. It was isolated, with no neighbors for miles, and surrounded by thick trees that shielded it from the road. As we pulled up, I felt a mixture of relief and apprehension—relief that we were finally somewhere we could catch our breath, but also the nagging worry that this was just another temporary sanctuary.
Sarah's contact, a gruff, middle-aged man named Will, met us at the door. He was the kind of guy you didn't ask too many questions about—he just got things done. He nodded to us as we entered, his eyes scanning the surrounding woods before he shut the door behind us.
"Place is secure," he said in a voice that was more growl than anything else. "You'll be safe here for a while. I've got a few supplies in the back, and there's a shortwave radio if you need to make contact. Just stay out of sight and don't make any noise."
I nodded, trying to shake off the tension that had settled in my shoulders. We'd been running for so long that the idea of actually being safe—even for a little while—felt foreign.
"Thanks," I muttered, and he gave a curt nod before disappearing into another room, leaving us alone in the cabin.
Pope and Kie were already looking around, trying to get a sense of our surroundings. The place was small but sturdy, with a couple of worn-out couches, a tiny kitchen, and a couple of bedrooms in the back. It wasn't much, but it was enough.
"We should get some rest," Pope suggested, his voice tired. "We've been going non-stop, and we're not going to be any good if we're running on fumes."
Kie agreed, but I could see the same unease in her eyes that I felt in my gut. We were safe for now, but we couldn't stay here forever. And out there, somewhere, Sarah and Cleo were running interference, putting themselves in danger to keep us off the radar. The thought made me feel guilty—like I should be out there with them, fighting instead of hiding.
John B was quiet, staring at the journal and maps we'd taken from the treasure site. He hadn't said much since we arrived, but I could see the wheels turning in his head, the determination in his eyes. He was going to figure this out, no matter what it took.
"You should rest too, man," I said, nudging him gently. "We're not going anywhere tonight. We'll figure out our next move in the morning."
He looked up at me, and for a moment, I saw the weight he was carrying—the responsibility, the fear, the hope. But then he nodded, finally letting out a breath he'd probably been holding since we left the motel.
"Yeah," he said quietly. "Yeah, you're right."
We all settled in, each of us finding a spot to crash for the night. The cabin was eerily quiet, the kind of quiet that makes you hyper-aware of every creak and rustle. But despite the tension, exhaustion finally won out, and I drifted off into a restless sleep.
I woke up to the smell of coffee and the low murmur of voices. For a moment, I forgot where I was, disoriented by the unfamiliar surroundings. But then it all came flooding back—the treasure, the danger, the safehouse.
I pushed myself up from the couch where I'd crashed, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. Pope and Kie were in the kitchen, talking quietly over mugs of coffee, while John B was already back at the table, poring over the journal and maps.
"Morning," I muttered, my voice rough from sleep.
Kie offered me a tired smile, sliding a mug of coffee across the table. "Morning. Sleep okay?"
I shrugged, taking a sip of the coffee. "As good as I could, considering."
We all knew what she meant. None of us had really slept well in weeks, and this night had been no different. We were all running on empty, but there was no time to think about that. Not when we had to figure out our next move.
"Any word from Sarah or Cleo?" I asked, glancing around the cabin.
Pope shook his head. "Not yet. Will said the radio's been quiet. They're probably still laying low."
The uncertainty gnawed at me, but I knew there wasn't much we could do except wait. Sarah and Cleo were smart, resourceful—they knew how to take care of themselves. But the longer we went without hearing from them, the more my anxiety grew.
John B finally looked up from the journal, his expression focused. "I think I've found something," he said, tapping one of the maps. "There's a location my dad marked—further inland, near an old church. I think it might be the key to all of this."
We all gathered around the table, studying the map. The location was remote, tucked away in a part of the mainland that was barely on the radar. If Big John had marked it, it had to be important.
"We need to check it out," John B continued, his voice steady with determination. "This could be the final piece of the puzzle."
Kie nodded, her expression serious. "We can't just sit here and wait. If this is what your dad was after, we need to find it before they do."
"But what about Sarah and Cleo?" I asked, the worry clear in my voice. "We can't just leave them out there."
John B hesitated, the same conflict playing out in his eyes. "We'll try to make contact with them before we leave. If we can't reach them... we go without them, and hope they catch up."
It wasn't the answer I wanted to hear, but I knew it was the only option. We were running out of time, and every second we spent waiting was another second our enemies had to close in on us.
Pope fired up the shortwave radio, trying to raise Sarah or Cleo, but the static was the only response. After several tense minutes, we realized we were on our own.
"Alright," John B said, his voice resolute. "Let's gear up. We leave in ten."
We packed quickly, grabbing only what we needed. Will provided us with a couple of old backpacks and some basic supplies—flashlights, a first aid kit, some food and water. It wasn't much, but it would have to do.
As we were getting ready to leave, the radio crackled to life, and we all froze.
"John B, JJ, Pope... are you there?"
It was Sarah's voice, faint but clear over the static. Relief flooded through me, and I rushed over to the radio, grabbing the mic.
"Sarah! We're here. Are you okay?"
"We're fine," she replied, the tension in her voice unmistakable. "Cleo and I have been keeping them busy, but we can't keep this up for long. What's your status?"
"We're heading to a location your dad marked," John B said, leaning in. "It might be the key to everything. We'll send you the coordinates. Can you meet us there?"
There was a brief pause, and then Sarah's voice came back, stronger this time. "Got it. We'll meet you there. Be careful."
"You too," I said, feeling a mix of relief and determination. "See you soon."
We quickly packed up the last of our gear and headed out the door, the morning light filtering through the trees as we made our way back to the Twinkie. The tension was still there, but knowing that Sarah and Cleo were okay, that they were going to meet us, gave me a renewed sense of hope.
This was it. The final stretch.
As we drove toward the old church, the sun climbed higher in the sky, casting a warm glow over the landscape. The road was long and winding, leading us deeper into the heart of the mainland, away from the chaos of the island and the life we'd known.
But I wasn't afraid. Not anymore.
Because we were in this together, and we were going to finish what we started.
No matter what it took.