The Healer's Fortune

Chapter 4— Pier 47

The rain had turned to mist by the time Adrian Kane reached the harbor. Neon from the city’s waterfront bled into the fog, painting the wet asphalt in streaks of blue and red.

The sign above the gate read PIER 47 — RESTRICTED ACCESS. Half the bulbs were dead. He checked his watch: 11:59 p.m.

The smell of diesel and saltwater hung thick in the air. Freight containers stood stacked like tombstones, their sides glistening. Somewhere a tugboat horn moaned, low and distant.

He moved between the rows, scanning shadows. “Aurelia?”

Only the sea answered.

Then, a light flickered ahead, a single warehouse bulb swinging in the wind. Beneath it stood a figure in a hooded coat, phone in hand. Adrian stopped ten yards away. “You’re not her.”

The figure lowered the phone. A man’s voice, smooth, practiced. “She couldn’t make it.”

“Who are you?”

“Someone who believes in her work.” He gestured toward a small metal case beside him. “She said you’d want proof.”

Adrian kept his distance. “Let’s see it.”

The man crouched, opened the case. Inside lay a transparent vial, half-filled with silver fluid that pulsed faintly, like mercury breathing. Adrian’s eyes narrowed. “Project Pulse material.”

“Smart.” The man smiled. “She told me you’d recognize it.”

Adrian’s tone stayed flat. “Aurelia never needed couriers. What’s your real message?”

The man straightened. “She said you’d say that too.”

A soft click echoed, one Adrian felt more than heard. He glanced down. A thin red dot danced on his chest. Sniper. He moved a fraction to the left; the dot followed.

The man’s smile widened. “You’re a difficult man to catch, Doctor. The board wants to make sure you cooperate.”

“By shooting me?”

“By reminding you that you’re already property of the program.”

Adrian let out a slow breath. “You really should’ve done your homework.”

He flicked his wrist; the flashlight in his hand burst in a flare of white. The red dot vanished in the glare. In that instant he lunged sideways behind a container.

A shot cracked, the bullet tearing sparks from steel. Adrian rolled to cover, heartbeat calm, mind faster than fear. “So this is the board’s idea of negotiation.”

The man called out, “You can’t run. Every camera on this dock is streaming you live.”

Adrian pulled his phone, fingers flying. “Then I’ll change the channel.”

He tapped a command; nearby floodlights flickered, then swung outward, blinding toward the rooftops. The sniper’s scope flashed once before the shot lights overloaded his lens.

Adrian moved again, low, fast, ghost-quiet. The courier shouted into his earpiece. “He’s moving! I need backup!”

Adrian’s voice came from somewhere in the fog. “Maybe check your signal first.”

A digital chirp, then every phone in the area died simultaneously. Power surge. The man cursed. “What did you”

Adrian stepped out from behind a container, calm again, holding the small portable scanner he’d used in the morgue. Its surface glowed faintly blue.

“I just told the network you don’t exist.”

He walked closer, rain glinting off his coat. “Now, tell me where Aurelia is.”

The man backed up, hitting the metal crate behind him. “You don’t understand, she’s not who you think.”

“Neither am I.”

Adrian raised the scanner; its hum deepened, the same tone that had opened the morgue door. “Last chance.”

The man’s voice cracked. “She’s building a new prototype, one that doesn’t need a host! The toxin in Holt, she tested it to cut the link. You were the link, Kane. You were the first Pulse carrier!”

The words slammed into him. “That’s impossible.”

“She said the body would reject it, but yours didn’t. That’s why they kept you alive!”

Adrian stared, pulse roaring in his ears. “You’re lying.”

“She called it the Healer’s Shadow.”

The scanner in Adrian’s hand flickered as his focus wavered. The man saw the hesitation, and reached for the gun at his ankle.

Adrian’s reflex snapped back. The scanner emitted a burst of soundless pressure; the man froze, muscles locking as the weapon clattered to the ground.

Adrian stepped in close, voice like steel. “Tell your board they should’ve buried me deeper.”

He turned, ready to leave, when his phone vibrated once more. Unknown number. Same as before.

He hesitated, thumb hovering, then answered. “Aurelia?”

No voice, only static. Then a faint whisper: “Behind you.”

Adrian spun. The courier was gone. In his place, the small metal case now lay open, and inside, the vial of silver fluid had shattered. The liquid was gone, soaking into the floor cracks, faint light pulsing beneath the concrete.

Then he heard it, a low hum rising from the pier itself. The ground trembled. Lights across the dock blinked in sequence, like a heartbeat spreading outward.

He ran toward the exit, but the security gate slid down with a mechanical groan, sealing him in. Water began to churn violently against the pilings, waves slapping like fists.

A voice boomed through the loudspeakers, distorted, female but familiar. “Welcome back, Adrian. Let’s see what the Pulse remembers.”

The lights all snapped off at once. Darkness swallowed the pier.