Marcus gaped at his son and the puddle on the rug at his feet. No. His vision clouded as liquid panic pumped through his veins.

Fitz said Matty’s name, strode to the boy, and crouched before him.

No, no, no.

“Marcus!”

Fitz snapped his fingers toward him twice. SNAP SNAP. He blinked, and the room came into focus.

“He’s confused,” Fitz said, holding Marcus’s gaze to ensure he understood the implications.

He did.

Marcus rose and picked Matty up — something he rarely did anymore. He set him on the counter and peered into his eyes, which stared back at him under half-closed lids.

“Matty. Do you know where you are?”

The boy frowned and tipped his chin down.

“Where?”

“I…we’re at the…beach?”

Marcus nodded. “What’s my name?”

“M–Marcus.”

“And what’s the name of our street?” They had gone over this a hundred times this past year, and Matty was always proud to show off his knowledge to anyone who would listen.

Matty scrunched his small face in concentration for a few moments until tears welled and spilled onto his cheeks. “Can’t ‘member.”

“Do you have a penlight?” Marcus asked Fitz.

“Yeah, here.”

Marcus clicked it on. “Matty, look at me. Eyes open.” He shined the light in his right eye, then the left.

“Equal and reactive,” Marcus said. “For now.”

“I’m gonna try the radio up higher,” Fitz said, hustling out the front.

Marcus turned to his son. “It’s okay, buddy. It’s okay.” He ruffled his damp brown hair and pulled him tight to his chest. Matty’s arms circled him, unable to meet around his father’s larger frame.

“Your heart’s beeping, Daddy.”

Marcus quelled an aching sob as his mind churned. Every idea that floated to his mind was immediately swatted away by the part of his brain that understood medical care.

He didn’t know how long he stood in the kitchen, but Fitz’s return pulled him out of his mental spiral, and Marcus faced him, barely daring to hope.

Fitz lumbered into the kitchen, caught Marcus’s gaze, and shook his head. “No response.”

“We’ve gotta get out of here.”

“There’s no way,” Fitz said, his voice full of pity.

“I need to talk to his mother.” Marcus lifted Matty and carried him to the chair Fitz had vacated. “Rest here a second, okay?” Matty reclined against the microfiber cloth, heaved a heavy sigh, and shut his eyes.

“Don’t fall asleep, bud,” Marcus said, his voice laced with fear.

Matty groaned and sat up straighter.

Marcus waved for Fitz to follow him as he hurried to Esme’s bedside, but when he saw her, he froze. She lay still as a corpse.

After a few seconds, her chest rose slightly. Marcus blew out the breath he’d been holding and closed the distance to her bed and leaned over his wife.

“Esme.”

“What?” she croaked.

“Matty vomited.”

Esme jolted, then cried out through clenched teeth as she tried to sit up.

“Stop!” Marcus and Fitz said in tandem.

“Is he oriented? Where is he? Did you leave him alone?” Esme fired off questions in rapid hysteria.

“He’s partially oriented but confused. Pupils are equal and reactive, though.”

“What are we going to do?” Esme demanded. “Take him. Get him to a hospital.”

“Uh, ma’am, that’s not possible,” Fitz said. “The storm’s still ragin’ out there, and no one’s answering my radio call.”

“Me importa un carajo!” Esme spat.

“If your husband takes him outside now, they could both easily die in the floods and flying debris. Wind gusts as high as 150 mph could hit them. They’d never have a chance.”

Esme slammed both fists onto the bedspread on either side of her prone body. Once, twice, three times before she burst into rage-filled tears.

Marcus touched her forearm, but she yanked it back. His voice filled with icy calm. “What do you want me to do?”

“Something. Anything. I can’t do it, so you have to. Leave me and help Matty. I don’t care how you do it but do it. ¡Hazlo ya!”

Fitz looked between the two, discomfort clear in his carefully blank expression.

Marcus clenched his jaw and strode away, Fitz right behind him.

“You can’t go out in this,” he hissed.

“I know that. I–” Marcus stopped. Matty’s chair sat empty.

“Matty?”

“Where’d he go?” Fitz asked.

Marcus peeked behind the couch and glanced into the kitchen, but he couldn’t find him. “Help me check the other bedrooms,” he said.

Fitz headed to the door by the entrance, and Marcus went straight to the other one. He dropped to the carpeted floor, lifted the dust ruffle, swiveled on his knees, and peered into the closet. Only brightly patterned clothes filled the space.

He hurried toward the hall. Fitz lurched to a stop before they collided.

“Anything?” Marcus asked.

“No.”

Matty was gone.

Crouched on her hands and knees, Sofia eased open the ottoman lid inch by inch. Peering through the crack, she could only see dim, menacing shapes.

Adjusted to the ottoman’s pitch-black interior, the cavernous room looked comparatively bright, thanks to a glowing “Exit” sign to her left. Sofia’s arm cramped as she held perfectly still and listened for a sound–any clue that Jax lurked nearby.

After a few minutes, she crawled out of the makeshift hiding spot. Vague silhouettes and dark corners loomed in the dark, but she detected no sign of her attacker.

She crept to the exit on the balls of her bare feet, every muscle in her body tense with fearful anticipation. But no one leaped at her from the shadows.

The emergency light above her bathed her skin in crimson as she cracked the door and peeked into the area beyond: another hallway. This place is a maze.

Sofia bit her lip and considered the safety of hiding. No, if he found me there, I’d have no chance. With new resolve blanketed in apprehension, she stepped through the opening and shut the door behind her.

She welcomed the thick silence pushing against her from all sides. Slowly, she padded down the corridor and tried a handle. Locked. The next few were shut tight, too.

The fourth handle turned. This space was crowded with a large table and at least 20 leather office chairs neatly arranged around it. She huffed in frustration. How do I get out of here? 

The soles of her bare feet stuck to the floor in the humidity as she skipped the next several rooms. Finally, she saw a junction ahead. Is that the main hall? 

A clang of metal interrupted Sofia’s thoughts, and she jolted to a halt. Her blood screamed through her body with each wild beat of her heart. Seconds passed with no other sound reaching her ears.

Slowly, she started forward again. The occasional exit sign lit her path, and as she neared the corridor crossroad, her stomach sank at the larger hallway’s comparative darkness.

Sofia’s pulse pounded in her ears: a grim soundtrack to her journey. The floor ahead seemed flat and offered no clue how to find the upper level. Which way? She always struggled to navigate, even in familiar places on well-lit days. As she stood in the gloom, indecision paralyzed her.

CLANK

Sofia whirled. She saw nothing at first, but then a shadow moved. Jax. Holding her breath, she backed up inch by inch until she reached the corner and ducked out of sight. Silence engulfed her once more as she peered into the darkness on both sides.

The scrape of metal against concrete sliced through the air very close, and Sofia’s stomach shrunk against her spine. She couldn’t run past the hallway she’d vacated, so she pushed off the wall and slipped further into the black void.

Nausea swirled and threatened to gag her as adrenaline surged and pushed her to hurry, hurry. She picked up the pace and started a light jog.

Mid-stride, something hard smashed her shin. Sofia cried out and fell face-first onto the unforgiving concrete floor.

A low chuckle fell on her like a cold rain, and she knew. She was caught.