I sat in the chair, my legs crossed and my foot kicking from side to side, eyes glued to the screen as the video played on a loop. The images of the devastating natural disasters flashed before me: earthquake, tsunami, forest fire, flood, tornado. Each one held its own story of destruction and despair.
Ty, Dominic, Nico, and the security team huddled around the table, their fingers flying across their keyboards as they researched the disasters. The room filled with the soft hum of laptops and the occasional mutterings of frustration.
I leaned over to Ty, trying to keep my voice steady. “Have you found anything yet?”
He shook his head, his face withdrawn. The muscles in his jaw were strained. “Nothing substantial. We’re still trying to find the exact disasters and their dates.”
Nico chimed in, his voice tinged with disappointment. “I’ve checked multiple databases, but it’s like finding a needle in a haystack. Matching the images to an exact disaster when the world has seen so many is almost impossible.”
One of the security team member’s brows furrowed as he peered at his laptop screen. “Wait a minute,” he exclaimed. “The flood in the video. I think it’s the catastrophic flooding that happened in my hometown, Houston, during Hurricane Harvey in 2017.”
“Really?” Ty turned to face him. “How can you tell?”
“Look.” He pointed to the upper left corner of his paused screen. “That’s the church my parents were married at. I’d recognize it anywhere because of a wedding photo that hung in our living room my entire childhood.”
A burst of energy. A glimmer of hope. “That’s a start. Maybe we can find connections like that for the other disasters, too.”
We all turned our attention back to our screens, determined to find a lead. As we delved into our research, time seemed to blur. Websites, news articles, and historical archives filled our screens, each team member scouring for any semblance of a connection.
Minutes turned into hours, and the frustration began to mount. The team grew restless as evident in their furrowed brows and weary expressions. The constant scrolling and clicking of mouse buttons filled the room and screamed of desperation.
“That tornado footage,” Dominic finally said. “It seems to resemble the deadly tornado outbreak in Joplin, Missouri, back in 2011.”
Nico raised one eyebrow. “Were you in Missouri in 2011? I don’t recall that.”
Dominic shook his head. “No, but this news reel I found matches the clip in the video.”
We all gathered around Dominic’s computer. Sure enough, Castro had pulled the clip from a news station’s archived stories.
Hours later, we’d managed to figure out the locations and dates of all five disasters. The words and numbers were scribbled on the whiteboard for everyone to see.
Ty hit the table and growled. “This doesn’t make sense! There has to be something connecting these disasters. Some underlying thread we’re missing.”
Nico leaned back in his chair, a defeated sigh escaping his lips. “I’ve searched through all the major cities affected by earthquakes, tsunamis, forest fires, and tornadoes during the corresponding dates, but I can’t find any significant connections.”
Dominic ran a hand through his hair, his frustration mirrored in his eyes. “Damm it. I thought for sure we’d have found something by now. Maybe Castro is toying with us, leading us on a wild goose chase. I wouldn’t put it past him.”
I tuned out, my mind racing with possibilities. We had to be missing some hidden clue that had yet to be deciphered. I had an inkling that the answer was right in front of us, just out of reach.
But, despite our best efforts, the puzzle remained elusive. The disasters didn’t seem to be connected, having occurred in different parts of the country with no discernible pattern or relationship. Gods, what were we missing.
We were back at square one, no closer to unraveling Castro’s cryptic clue than when we first viewed the video hours ago.
Ty looked around at our weary faces, and he sounded exhausted when he spoke. “We can’t give up. There has to bea connection we’re missing. Let’s regroup, gather our thoughts, and approach this from a different angle.”
He lowered his voice and turned to face me. “I need a breather.”
I nodded and watched him leave the room with his shoulders hunched.
After a few minutes, I went to hunt Ty down. He was sitting on the back porch, sipping from a clear glass. I couldn’t tell if it was water or vodka, but I wouldn’t blame him if he needed a drink after the insanity.
“Mind if I join you?”
Ty gave me a small grin and patted the seat next to him. “Of course.”
We sat in silence for a moment, staring out over the woods.
“I’m really worried, Liza. I’m afraid we won’t figure this out in time.”
