Chapter 3 - The Ghost Highway
The reinforced SUV barreled down the deserted coastal turnpike, tires hissing against rain-slicked asphalt. Inside, the only light came from the dim dashboard glow. Adrian kept one tattooed hand on the wheel and the other braced near his holster, his jaw set in a line of iron.
In the passenger seat, Clara held the infant, carefully rocking the bundle to soothe her whimpers. The baby smelled of clean powder and old rain. Every time the child stirred, Clara felt a sudden tug deep within her chest that defied logic.
"Start talking, Adrian," Clara demanded, her voice shaking but unyielding. "No riddles. No brooding martyr act. Who carried this child if I didn't?"
Adrian exhaled, his gaze never leaving the black road ahead. "Elena. She was a surrogate. The clinic was compromised two months after we were separated. Victor took the facility, kept the embryos hostage to ensure my surrender. Elena risked her life to carry the pregnancy to term in hiding."
"Elena is dead?"
"She bled out in my arms three hours before I found you," Adrian said, the gravel in his tone cracking. "Her last words weren't a plea for mercy. She begged me to find you. She knew you were the only one who could keep Sarah safe."
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Clara looked down at the tiny face. Sarah. A name she had murmured in dark hospital rooms years ago when doctors told her she was barren.
Suddenly, the vehicle’s high beams caught a blockade of abandoned oil tankers stretched across the bridge ahead. A heavy spotlight snapped on from a watchtower above them, blinding the windshield.
