Flood Rising (Jenna Flood #1)

He didn’t need strength, though.

As she backed away, he reached his good hand down to his shattered body, and when she saw it again, he was holding his gun.

Jenna felt herself go numb. Carlos had been in no condition to fight her, not like Raul had, but she had instinctively retreated from him, creating the standoff distance that would allow him to shoot her before she could reverse course.

I have to try, she thought. Maybe he’ll—

The report made her jump, but there was no pain, no sensation at all. It didn’t seem possible that he could have missed. When he slumped forward and didn’t move again, she realized that Carlos had not fired his gun.

The shot had come from behind her.

She turned slowly and saw a tall figure silhouetted in the still blazing headlights of the rental car, one arm outstretched, holding a gun. Jenna’s rescuer lowered the gun and took a step forward, then gestured at the two bodies on the floor. “You’ve been busy.”

Though the face was still obscured by shadow, Jenna instantly recognized the voice and bolted forward, shouting, “Mercy!”





21



2:34 a.m.



Unlike Jenna, Mercedes Reyes had been wearing her seatbelt when her pickup lost control and started corkscrewing down the Overseas Highway. Aside from being shaken up like the marble in a can of spray paint, Mercy had come away from the accident with nothing more serious than a few aches and bruises.

“I think they almost crashed, too,” Mercy said. “When my head stopped spinning, they were gone. I looked for you for a while, but then the police showed up.”

“I’m surprised they let you go. Aren’t you like a material witness or something?”

“I may not have actually hung around to answer their questions.” Mercy ducked her head guiltily. “You said that the bad guys might be connected with the police. I couldn’t take the chance. Someone gave me a ride as far as Marathon, and from there I was able to get some wheels and come here.”

“Because you knew this is where I would go.”

Mercy’s expression became grave. “No, honey. I came here because I thought you were dead. If I had known you were out there, I wouldn’t have left. I came here because it was what Noah told us to do.”

Jenna felt chastened. She had done exactly the same thing, albeit by a much more dangerous route. “Good thing you got here when you did.”

Mercy nodded. She explained how she had walked into the building just in time to see Carlos aim his pistol at Jenna. Her own gun had been lost during the wreck, but she had found Raul’s discarded weapon on the floor and had not hesitated. Jenna had a lot more questions, and she suspected that Mercy did, too, but those could wait. There was only one thing that really mattered now. “So, did you find it? What Noah left?”

Jenna felt for the journal tucked into her pants, but it was gone. She looked around, panic building, but quickly found it on the floor, still safe inside the Ziploc bag. She picked it up and moved forward until she was bathed in the glow of the car’s headlights. She opened the Ziploc, pulled out the journal and let the bag fall to the ground.

“Are you sure you don’t want to wait?” Mercy nodded toward the pair of corpses. “Maybe go somewhere that’s a little more…I don’t know…not here?”

Jenna shook her head. “After everything I’ve been through to get here, I just want to know the truth.” She opened to the first page.



If you’re reading this, then you’d better put it back where you found it, right now. Seriously.



She could almost hear Noah’s slightly gruff voice as she read the words. It triggered an unexpected surge of emotion.



Or I suppose it could mean that something very bad has happened. It’s okay. Don’t worry about me. I came to terms with my mortality a long time ago, and now I’m off to find the answer to life’s greatest mystery.

But that bad thing I mentioned? Well, that’s a problem, isn’t it? Mercy? If it’s you reading this, and I hope to hell it is, there’s just one thing I want you to do. Get Jenna and take her to Miami. When you get there, look up a guy named Bill Cort. I wish I could say he’s an old friend, but that wouldn’t quite be the truth. If you get the time to read the rest of this book, you’ll understand what that means. And you’ll probably have a better idea of why this is all happening.



Below that was an address, but it had been crossed out and an arrow pointed to the margin where a different address had been written in.

Mercy read over her shoulder. “Next stop: Miami?”

Jenna blinked back tears and swallowed. “I want to read the rest of it. I have to know what was so important that it got him killed.”

She turned the page and read aloud. “November sixteenth, nineteen ninety-nine…”





22



November 16, 1999

10:35 p.m. (local time)