Chapter 8 - The Crimson Scratch
Jim fetched a first-aid kit, setting it on the wooden table beside a roaring stone fireplace.
Mark carefully cleaned the red scratch on Lily's shoulder, his heart aching as she whimpered in her sleep.
"This isn't just a physical scratch, Mark," Jim observed, pointing a flashlight at the mark on her skin.
Under the bright light, faint blue lines were visible spreading beneath the surface of the skin around the wound.
"Tessa didn't just grab her," Jim realized, his face turning solemn. "She used a micro-dermal tracking chip."
Mark's blood ran cold as he realized how Victor's men had been tracking their location across state lines.
"We need to remove it right now," Mark said, his voice dropping an octave into absolute, icy determination.
Jim handed him a sterile scalpel from the kit without saying another word.
Mark held his daughter's hand, whispering gentle words as he carefully extracted the tiny metallic capsule from her shoulder.
May you like
He dropped the glowing chip into a glass of whiskey, watching the blue indicator light flicker and die.
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