So here he was now, in his family’s warehouse, running for his life, hoping like hell he could find his way out of this place without being boxed in. Kyle knew the hallways well enough, he’d practically grown up in this place and had watched as it had expanded much in the same way his father’s tuna business had over the years. They’d seen thin years and fat years alike, but the tuna cannery had remained one of the most successful in this part of the world, and it was the last refuge he could think of at the moment. He’d already been to several friends and family members in the last hour, seeking safety but finding only another angry face, or faces, that had wanted to harm him.
Coming to the cannery had been a last option since among his family the only ones that really knew that much about its layout were his siblings and his parents and grandparents, who had helped build the place. Right now he was counting on the knowledge he possessed of the layout to save him, since his friends and a good number of his family members didn’t know about every room and hallway in this place. They also weren’t likely to know about some of the secret modifications he’d made throughout the years when the world had started to go a bit crazy, as his father would have agreed. He could hear footsteps running behind him, but looking back down the hallway he’d just come from Kyle could see nothing. They were close though, that much was obvious.
It was time to rely on the modifications he’d had installed in the place without his parents knowing. Having had the business handed to him a while back had its perks, as he didn’t need to get their approval for anything these days. That helped when it came to secret compartments, such as the one he accessed now as he reached a certain spot in the wall, located just under a family photo that depicted the founders of the business, his ancestors and his grandparents, when they were children no less. Hitting a well-hidden button in the wall he heard the telltale click he’d wanted, and in only a few seconds he was squirreling his way into a hidden passage, ducking to pass through the opening before swinging it shut again.
The sound of running feet as they thundered by the hiding spot told him that he’d gone unnoticed, for now. Maybe with the few spare moments to breathe he could try to figure out why his family was trying to kill him, and what that damned pulse had been. Pulling his cell phone from his hip pocket he pulled up the email that his wife had spoken of before she’d turned into a murderous harpy like the rest of their family. The return address had his eyes widening immediately.
“Son of a bitch,” he muttered.
(to be continued)