The Cannery

The Oakhaven Cannery jutted out over the ocean like a rotting tooth. It was a massive skeletal structure of rusted iron and decaying wood, suspended over churning black water.

Elias, Maya, and Chloe slipped through the perimeter fence. The fog was thick today—perfect cover.

"The meeting is on the upper catwalk," Chloe whispered. "That’s where he takes the VIPs for the view."

"I'll draw his security away," Maya said. "I'm good at being loud."

"Chloe, you stay here. Keep the livestream app ready on my backup phone," Elias said.

"What are you going to do?" Chloe asked.

Elias looked at the towering structure. He began to peel off his gloves. He shoved them into his pocket.

"I'm going to feel my way," he said.

He placed his bare hands on the rusted iron beam of the entrance.

*The Echoes rushed in. Not emotions this time, but physical memories of the structure. The vibration of footsteps from fifty years ago. The groan of metal fatigue. The sensation of wood snapping.*

He could "see" the structural integrity of the building. He saw the safe paths glowing like veins of gold, and the rotted sections as gaping maws of darkness.

"Go," Elias said.

Maya took off running, banging a metal pipe against a vat. "Hey! Vane! You missed a spot!"

The two security guards at the stairs shouted and chased after her.

Elias moved. He didn't run; he flowed. He grabbed railings, touched walls, his mind mapping the safe route instantly. He sprinted up the stairs, skipping the third and seventh steps because he *felt* they would crumble.

He reached the upper catwalk. Julian Vane stood there with two men in suits. A leather briefcase sat on a crate between them.

"Gentlemen, the view is spectacular," Julian was saying.

"Julian!" Elias shouted.

Julian spun around. He smiled, smooth and predatory. "Ah. The fugitive. I assume your friends are nearby?"

"It’s over, Julian. We know about the poison."

"You have nothing," Julian sneered. He gestured to the suits. "Leave us. I'll handle this trash."

The investors, looking uncomfortable, hurried toward the stairs.

Julian pulled a small pistol from his jacket. "You made a mistake coming here, Elias. Now I can claim self-defense. A crazed stalker attacked me."

"You won't shoot," Elias said, walking forward. He kept his hands out, brushing the railing. *Weakness here. Bolt rusted through.* "You need to sell the land. A murder investigation slows that down."

"I own the police, kid. I can shoot you and have the coroner rule it a suicide by noon."

Julian raised the gun.

Elias didn't lunge at Julian. He lunged at the floor.

He stomped hard on a specific plank—one that held the echo of a termite infestation from 1998.

*CRACK.*

The floorboard gave way. Julian stumbled, his leg plunging through the hole. The gun skittered across the catwalk and fell into the ocean.

Elias was on him instantly.