24 hours

TEN post meridiem

The bright lights of the island looked bizarre in the middle of the night. I knew that they sometimes had night tours on the island, but the reason it all looked so wrong was just how empty the island was.

I looked down at my phone the moment we got off the boat. "We have to hurry!" I reminded Gray. "It's 10:30. That leaves us with only an hour-and-a-half to find our family and get out of here." He nodded, and we started running.

Halfway up the hill, I was completely out of breath.

"Do you need to stop?" Gray asked, hardly missing a beat. He looked like he hadn't done much more than run up a flight of stairs.

"I," breathe, "am," breath, "fine." He wasn't convinced, so we took a 5-minute break and checked our phones.

How slow can two people be? You are running out of time.

"Where should we check first?" I asked as we stopped at a map of the island.

"I think the main cell house might be our best bet. That was the most used building when Alcatraz was in business and also where the prisoners were kept."

It didn't take long to get there, and once we reached the entrance, I saw Gray pause.

"Do you hear that?" I stopped to listen. It almost sounded like yelping in the background.

"Dogs," I stated matter-of-factly. There was something about his expression that confused me. "Are you okay Grayson?"

"I'm fine." His reply came too quickly. I don't think he was being completely honest.

"Are you afraid of dogs Grayson?" I questioned him. He rubbed the back of his neck.

"Not really," he started, then gave in. "I've had bad experiences with dogs in the past, so I guess they are not exactly my favorite animal."

We walked into the building. The stained halls reminded me of the history of the prison and the hairs on my neck stand up at the stillness in the air. I felt like at any moment, the ghost of a prisoner would pop out or something.

I heard crying.

Running from cell to cell, I didn't stop until I had found the one that was not only locked, but in use.

"Mom?" I exclaimed.

She looked up. "Colette?" My mother ran to the bars with tear-stained cheeks.

"Wait mom, where's Tyson?" Another onslaught of tears began at my words.

"I tried, Colette. I tried to protect him."

"What happened? Where is he?"

"They took him, Colette!" My fists clenched involuntarily and I was filled with more rage than I had felt in my entire lifetime. Whoever did this to my mom and brother were going to pay, and if they touched even one hair on his head...

"Colette."

"What?" I snapped, turning to face Gray.

Her friend had a gun to his head.

A man in his early twenties stood next to the woman with the gun, seemingly the leader of the two.

"Come with me Colette," ordered the man. I glared at him with such hatred, that the woman flinched. "Oh. And please don't struggle. Your brother is fine for now, and I really don't want to hurt a child."

I felt the barrel of a gun press against the small of my back. I hadn't noticed the third guard behind me. Seething, I followed the man at gunpoint. Struggling was futile — doing so would only end the life of myself and those I love.