Page 34 of Pressure Point (Lantern Beach Blackout: Detonation #2)

CHAPTER

THIRTY-FOUR

As Jake stepped back to call in this new development, Atlas stared at Quinn, trying to process what she’d just told them. “Are all your memories back?”

Quinn shook her head as the wind whipped her hair around. Her frustration was evident in her expression. “No. Just some knowledge has returned. Like muscle memory but for meteorology. I can look at these weather patterns and just . . . know what they mean.”

Hudson stepped closer, his expression skeptical. “How is that possible? Yesterday you couldn’t remember your own name.”

Quinn remained quiet a moment as if searching for the right words.

“It’s like the difference between remembering how to ride a bike and remembering when you learned to ride a bike.

The skills are still there, the understanding of how weather systems work, how storms behave.

But the personal memories—where I learned it, who taught me, what cases I’ve worked on—that’s still mostly blank. ”

Her explanation made sense, and Atlas didn’t see how anyone could argue with it. The brain was a funny thing, but she’d described her situation perfectly.

She pulled up more data on Atlas’s phone, showing them wind velocity charts and pressure readings. “This weather system isn’t natural. Someone’s been feeding energy into this storm for hours, maybe days. Now they’re trying to refine their methods. And given the trajectory, the timing . . .”

“They’re aiming it directly at Lantern Beach,” Atlas finished.

The implications hit him like a physical blow. This was bad. Really bad.

“More than that.” Quinn frowned and rubbed the side of her face. “They’re timing it perfectly. A Category 4 hurricane hitting during high tide on a full moon, with storm surge enhanced by artificial intensification? This entire barrier island could be wiped out.”

Ice formed in Atlas’s stomach. “We have to warn people. Get everyone evacuated.”

“Evacuated to where?” Kyle placed his hands on his hips. “If they can control the hurricane’s path, then there’s nowhere on the coast that will be safe.”

Quinn studied the storm-tracking data, her expression growing more alarmed by the second. “The storm surge predictions are all wrong. The official forecasts are based on natural hurricane behavior, but if this storm has been artificially enhanced . . .”

“Then what?” Atlas asked.

She looked up at them with haunted eyes. “Then we’re not talking about flooding. We’re talking about complete devastation. Everything within five miles of the coast could be underwater.”

Atlas reached for his phone. “I’ve got to let people know.”

Colton picked up a moment later, and Atlas explained the situation to him.

Static crackled through the speaker before Colton’s voice came through, tense and urgent. “Thanks for the update. I’ll let people know. But I need to tell you something else also. We looked up that symposium the weather man mentioned.”

“And?”

“And we think we found a connection. There was a woman who spoke there named Calista Quinton.”

He glanced at her, his eyes wide. Her expression looked equally as tense.

“And?” Atlas pushed.

“She’s a leading weather scientist for the government.”

“But if she worked for the government, why aren’t her prints on file?” Atlas asked.

“Good question,” Colton said. “But there’s more. She went missing, and there’s buzz that she’s working for the enemy and helping teach them how to use weather as a weapon.”

“I’d never do that!” Quinn said.

“The FBI got word of our search and put out an arrest warrant for Quinn,” Colton continued. “They’re saying she’s a possible terrorist and that’s why she shot down that helicopter.”

“Do they have new evidence?” Atlas asked.

“If they do, they’re not sharing.”

Atlas looked at Quinn and saw the fear flicker across her face as she realized what that meant.

“Quinn isn’t the threat here,” Atlas told Colton. “She’s the key to understanding how to stop these people.”

Atlas explained what they’d discovered.

“But she needs more time to figure out how to stop this,” Atlas finished. “If the feds put her away . . .”

Colton sighed before finally saying, “Fine. I’ll try to hold them off. But we’ve got less than eighteen hours before that hurricane makes landfall, and probably even less time than that before the FBI returns.”

Atlas looked at Quinn and saw the trust and terror warring in her eyes.

He knew at that moment that he’d protect her at all costs.

He needed to get her out of here before the FBI arrived.

He needed to get her back to headquarters and see if they could figure out how to stop this impending disaster.

Quinn gripped the door handle as Atlas navigated the SUV through increasingly difficult conditions.

The wind was intensifying, bending the island’s trees at unnatural angles. Heavy bands of rain were beginning to lash the windshield.

“We have to get people off this island.” She studied the latest weather data on Atlas’s phone. “The storm surge alone will be catastrophic, but if they’re artificially enhancing the hurricane . . . things could really get haywire.”

“Blackout can help coordinate the evacuation.” Atlas’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel.

“We’ve got boats, helicopters, and personnel trained in emergency operations.

But eighteen hours isn’t much time. As conditions deteriorate, there will be less we can do—flying our copters, for instance. ”

Quinn did quick calculations in her head. “The island has what, probably less than a couple thousand permanent residents? Plus however many tourists decided to ride out the storm?”

“It’s closer to ten thousand total.”

She sucked in a breath, the number higher than she’d anticipated. “The sustained wind speeds are already at twenty-five miles per hour with gusts reaching higher. It won’t be much longer until the ferries shut down.”

The enormity of the task ahead settled over Quinn like a weight. Ten thousand people. Eighteen hours.

And somewhere out there, whoever was controlling Hurricane Delilah was counting on those people not making it to safety.

“Atlas, why Lantern Beach?” she murmured. “I keep trying to understand why Sigma would target this specific place. It’s not a major population center, not a military installation . . .”

“Maybe it’s not about the island itself,” Atlas said after a moment of thought. “Maybe these people know if they target a small town like Lantern Beach, then there’s nowhere in the US that should feel safe.”

“You could be right.”

“Or maybe it’s about Blackout. We’ve been investigating Sigma for months, disrupting their operations. What better way to eliminate a threat than to make it look like a natural disaster?”

A chill swept over Quinn. “I can see that. Maybe it’s also about testing their capabilities. Lantern Beach is isolated, manageable. If you wanted to test a weather weapon, you’d choose a target where you can control the variables.”

“Then why the Bahamas?”

“I think they had an enemy there also.” She shook her head. “But I don’t know who.”

“You think Lantern Beach is another field test?”

“I think this is a demonstration.” The pieces clicked together in her mind. “Proof of concept. Imagine being able to threaten any coastal city in the world with a weaponized hurricane. The geopolitical implications . . .”

Atlas glanced at her, and something in his expression made her stomach clench.

“What aren’t you telling me? Quinn, I think you were involved in this project.

Not willingly, but . . .” He paused, choosing his words carefully.

“The timing of your memory loss, your expertise in weather systems, the way Sigma operatives keep showing up wherever you are. You weren’t just a witness to something. You were part of it.”

Quinn pressed her palms against her temples as fragments of memory threatened to surface. “I can feel it, you know. Like there’s information locked in my head that I can’t quite access. Knowledge about how the system works, about who’s behind it.”

“That’s not your fault,” Atlas said. “Whatever they made you do, whatever they used your expertise for, you’re not responsible for their actions.”

Gratitude filled her at Atlas’s kindness. But, despite his words, Quinn couldn’t shake the growing certainty that she was somehow complicit in what was about to happen to Lantern Beach.

The guilt felt like a living thing in her chest, an organism that fed on every weather update that showed the storm growing stronger.

“Maybe I can make this right.” She drew in a deep breath of determination. “Maybe there’s still time to figure out how to stop it.”

Atlas reached over and squeezed her hand. “We’ll figure it out together.”

Quinn looked out at the darkening sky and hoped he was correct.

If they couldn’t stop Hurricane Delilah, the blood of everyone on this island would be on her hands.

Whether she remembered helping Sigma or not.