The Keys to freedom

All is lost

The boat groaned as Grayson pushed it harder, the engine sputtering in protest. Water sloshed at their feet.

"Faster," James urged, gripping the side of the boat.

"I'm trying," Grayson snapped. "Unless you wanna get out and push, shut up."

Oz clenched her fingers into fists, feeling the bite of the cuffs against her skin. The lighthouse loomed in the distance, shrouded in mist, its dark silhouette their refuge.

The boat lurched and the engine sputtered one last time before dying completely, leaving them adrift in the dark water.

"Great. Now what?" Eric exclaimed, eyes wide as the stern of the boat dipped sharply, water rushing over the edge.

"Now we swim," Grayson said as the water began to swallow them whole.

Jessper eyes went wide submerging into the water. "Oz!"

"Shit," James cursed.

Without wasting another second, he and Grayson surged toward her, their arms slicing through the water with frantic urgency as the structure beneath her disappeared in an instant, plunging her into the abyss.

The cold slammed into her like a living force, stealing the air from her lungs as she sank like dead weight. The cuffs around her wrists might as well have been anchors.

She kicked. Thrashed.

But it was useless. The water pulled her deeper, wrapping around her like an embrace.

For a split second, a new thought whispered through her mind—dark, inviting. She could just... let go. Stop fighting. No more running. No more pain. Just sweet, blissful—

Strong arms wrapped around her, yanking her up before the darkness could claim her. Grayson held her tight against his chest, his breath warm against her ear. "You're okay," he whispered, his voice steady. "I've got you."

She gasped, choking on saltwater, but she forced herself to nod. He did have her, he always did. But it brought no comfort to her this time.

"Keep her up!" James shouted as he swam toward the rocks.

Grayson held her tight, dragging her through the water, his strokes strong and steady.When the reached the shore he hauled her onto the rocks, flipping her onto her side so she wouldn't land on her bound wrists. Behind them, the top bark of the boat sputtered one last time before sinking beneath the waves.

"Well," Eric panted, running a hand over his face. "Guess we're not going back that way."

James shook his head. "Doesn't matter. We're here now."

Oz struggled to sit up, her arms aching from being trapped behind her. Grayson knelt beside her, moving the strands of her hair that had gotten stuck to her face, searching her expression for any sign of serious injury.

"You alright?" he asked, his voice rough with concern as he tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his eyes.

Her breath was shaky, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she tried to steady herself. But after a moment, she gave a small nod, swallowing back everything else as he helped her to her feet.

"We need to figure out our next move before the whole damn state comes looking for us." James said as they began their walk up to the lighthouse.

They scrambled up the rocky path, their soaked clothes clinging to their bodies as the wind howled around them. Eric reached the rusted lighthouse door first, yanking it open with a loud creak. They slipped inside, greeted by the scent of dust and salt.

"Come over here," James said as he led Oz to an old, splintered table in the corner.

She backed up against it, breathing heavily, and placed her hands where he had instructed. The cold metal of the cuffs dug into her wrists, the skin raw from the struggle.

James bent down, grabbing a jagged rock from the ground outside. Without hesitation, he raised it and brought it down hard against the chain between the cuffs.

Crack.
Crack.
Crack.
Crack.

Finally, with one last powerful hit, the metal gave way with a sharp snap. The cuffs remained locked around her wrists, but at least now, she could move her arms.

She gave a small nod, flexing her fingers. "Thanks."

"Let's head up," Eric said, already moving toward the staircase. "We need to keep an eye out for cops."

One by one, they followed him, their footsteps loud against the worn wooden steps.

Once they reached the upper room, an uneasy silence settled over them. The only sound was the distant crash of waves against the Rocks below.

Jessper's voice broke through everyone's thoughts. "So... what now?"

Silence.

No one had an answer.

Oz drifted toward the glass window, staring out at the ocean. The sunlight shimmered over the dark water, stretching endlessly into the horizon.

The last time they had been here, they were different—happy, full of hope, and excitement. Now, all of that had been smothered.

She pulled the tiny snow globe from her pocket, turning it over in her hands. The glass felt fragile, delicate—so unlike the man who had given it to her.

The thought hit her like a wave, sudden and sharp, knocking the air from her lungs.

Pyke was gone.

She turned the globe, watching the tiny pieces swirl around inside. A part of her still didn't believe it. Wouldn't believe it.

Behind her, the others were talking, strategizing trying to come up with a real plan. Escape routes. Possible allies. and the slim chance that they might even have a future beyond this night.

But Oz just stood there staring out at the vast, endless ocean stretching out before her. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath her fingers tightening around the globe.

They were fugitives now.

And there was no going back.