The first thunderclap rolled across the lake like a warning shot.
It was distant at first.
Low.
Almost subtle.
Inside the cabin, the air felt tight, charged with something more than electricity.
Jack stood near the table, staring at Molly like she was a problem that refused to solve itself.
"You just couldn't stay away," he said quietly.
Molly's wrists burned against the restraints. Sarah sat beside her, bound the same way, shoulder pressed lightly against her sister's for reassurance.
"You had to follow me," Jack continued. "You had to record."
Molly lifted her chin despite the fear crawling under her skin.
"You kidnapped my sister."
His jaw tightened.
"You escalated this."
"I escalated?" she shot back. "You locked her in a cabin like some psycho."
Sarah closed her eyes slightly.
Wrong move.
Jack stepped closer.
"You think you understand what this is?" he asked, voice lowering.
"I understand you're sick."
The slap came fast.
Sharp.
Explosive in a confined space.
Molly's head snapped to the side, her ears ringing instantly.
Sarah gasped.
Jack stood over her, breathing heavier now.
"You don't get to define me," he said.
Molly tasted blood.
"You don't get to own her either."
That was it.
He grabbed her jaw roughly, fingers digging into her cheeks.
"You had one job," he said coldly. "Stay away."
Sarah spoke quickly, trying to slow the temperature in the room.
"Jack—"
"Shut up."
He reached into his pocket, pulling out a roll of tape.
Molly tried to pull back, but bound wrists and ankles made it useless.
He wrapped the tape across her mouth, pressing it firmly into place.
"There," he muttered. "Now you're useful."
Sarah's breathing quickened.
"You're making this worse," she said carefully.
He turned on her.
"I'm correcting it."
Another thunderclap cracked much closer now.
The cabin windows rattled.
Rain began to fall suddenly, violently, like the sky had been waiting for this moment.
Jack stepped toward the window, staring out at the lake.
The water had darkened.
Wind tore across its surface in jagged patterns.
"They'll think the storm changes something," he said quietly.
Sarah swallowed.
"What does it change?"
He smiled faintly.
"Visibility."
Across the lake, Brian stood beneath a temporary canopy set up along the ridge line.
Rain pelted against it in sheets.
"Storm cell just intensified," tactical reported. "Flash flood warnings issued."
Brian stared at the cabin through binoculars, though visibility was already degrading.
"How long?" he asked.
"Three hours at least. Maybe more."
The helicopter pilot shook his head. "We're grounded in this."
Boats would be suicidal in that wind.
Brian lowered the binoculars slowly.
"This complicates everything."
The Chief stepped beside him.
"Or buys us time."
Brian glanced at him.
"He's unstable."
"Yes. But storms trap people."
Lightning split the sky over the lake, illuminating the cabin for a brief, violent second.
In that flash—
Brian thought he saw movement inside.
His pulse spiked.
"Thermal?" he asked.
"Storm interference," tech replied. "Spotty readings."
Rain hammered harder.
The lake began rising visibly against the shoreline.
"If that dock floods—" someone started.
"He loses controlled access," Brian finished.
Or he panics.
Neither option felt safe.
Inside the cabin, water began seeping under the back door.
Jack noticed it first.
He stepped into the kitchen area and cursed under his breath.
The storm was stronger than predicted.
He returned to the bedroom, eyes sharper now.
"Change of plans," he muttered.
Sarah's stomach tightened.
"What plans?"
He ignored her, moving quickly now—checking windows, reinforcing locks, pacing again.
Lightning flashed, illuminating his face stark white for a split second.
He looked different.
More fractured.
The cabin creaked as wind slammed against its sides.
Molly struggled against the tape, breathing harder through her nose.
Jack turned back toward her.
"You should've stayed in town," he said. "You would've been safe."
She glared at him, fury burning even through fear.
"You think he's coming for you?" Jack continued, pacing again. "You think Brian's brave enough?"
Sarah watched carefully.
His pacing was no longer controlled.
It was agitated.
"He won't risk you," Jack said softly. "That's the beauty of this."
Lightning struck close enough to shake the structure violently.
The power flickered.
Then went out.
The cabin fell into darkness.
Only the storm and the faint gray light from the windows remained.
For the first time—
Jack looked uncertain.
Outside, Brian's radio crackled.
"Power grid showing outages in that sector."
He looked toward the lake.
The cabin disappeared into shadow.
"Night just came early," he muttered.
The Chief stepped closer.
"He's blind too now."
"Or more dangerous."
Brian wiped rain from his face.
"We hold position."
"We wait?"
"We wait."
But every second felt like a blade pressing closer.
Inside the cabin, Jack lit a lantern.
The flickering light distorted the walls.
Shadows jumped violently with every movement.
Sarah's heart pounded.
The storm roared outside, wind bending trees, rain pounding the roof so hard it sounded like fists.
Water crept further inside near the back entry.
Jack stared at it.
Calculating.
"You see what happens when you interfere?" he said suddenly, looking at Molly. "Everything destabilizes."
She made a muffled sound behind the tape.
"You brought this," he added.
Sarah shifted slightly.
"This storm isn't about us."
He looked at her sharply.
"Everything is about us."
Lightning exploded again.
For a brief second—
The lake surged violently against the dock.
The wood groaned.
Jack's eyes flicked toward the sound.
He was losing environmental control.
And that—
Was new.
Back on the ridge, Brian lowered the binoculars again.
"We stretch this," he said quietly.
The Chief nodded.
"We exhaust him."
"Keep him talking."
"Keep him thinking he's winning."
Brian looked at the dark shape across the lake.
He could almost feel the pressure building inside that cabin.
Storm outside.
Storm inside.
And somewhere between lightning strikes and rising water—
A breaking point was forming.
But not yet.
Not tonight.
The rescue would not come in thunder.
It would come with patience.
And patience—
Was razor thin.