Fractured: Chapter 4 - 3:00 PM Sunday (Third Target)

The church stood on the outskirts of the city, isolated and shrouded in an unsettling stillness. Kemi parked a short distance away, her eyes scanning the desolate landscape for any signs of life. The phone’s timer continued its relentless countdown, a constant reminder that her time was slipping away. She didn’t know what to expect from Father Michael, but as she approached the church, the air felt heavier with each step.

The creak of the old wooden door echoed through the empty halls as Kemi stepped inside. The church was dimly lit, with shafts of sunlight piercing through the stained glass windows, casting eerie, multicolored reflections on the stone floor. A few candles flickered near the altar, but the place felt abandoned—like a forgotten relic.

Her fingers brushed against the gun inside her duffel bag. She wasn’t sure why she had brought it; she wasn’t sure of anything anymore.

“Kemi,” a voice called out from the front of the church.

She froze. Father Michael stood by the altar, his tall, lean figure silhouetted against the light from the windows. He wasn’t wearing his priestly robes, just a simple black shirt and trousers. His face was a mask of calm, though his eyes betrayed a deep sadness.

“You remember me, don’t you?” he asked softly.

Kemi didn’t answer. How could she? She didn’t remember him or anything from her past life, except for flashes that came to her in the form of fragmented nightmares. But the way Father Michael looked at her, with such familiarity, made her stomach turn.

“I can see that you’re lost,” he said, stepping closer. “They’ve taken everything from you, haven’t they?”

“What are you talking about?” Kemi asked, her voice shaky, unsure whether to trust him or to follow through with her deadly task.

Father Michael let out a deep sigh. “Your husband—Akin—he’s not the man you think he is. You were right to confront him before… before everything happened.” His eyes locked onto hers, pleading. “I know you don’t remember, but I was there. I helped you when you first began uncovering the truth.”

Kemi’s mind reeled. Could this man really be telling her the truth? Was her husband behind all of this? The thought made her chest tighten.

“You don’t have to do this,” Father Michael continued. “You don’t have to follow their orders. I know who’s controlling this—who’s watching you. I can help you expose them.”

Kemi stared at him, the weight of the gun heavy in her hand. She could feel the pressure building, the need to make a decision—to trust him, or to carry out her mission.

But before she could act, a loud crack shattered the silence.

The stained glass window behind Father Michael exploded in a spray of colored shards as a sniper’s bullet tore through the air. Kemi screamed as Father Michael crumpled to the ground, blood pooling beneath him.

She scrambled backward, her mind racing. Someone had been watching her the entire time. The church, the quiet—it had all been a trap.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. Hands shaking, she pulled it out and answered the call.

“Father Michael was a fool,” the voice said coldly. “You hesitated again. Your next target is Felix Ajayi. You’re running out of time, Kemi. No more mistakes.”

The line went dead.

Kemi stared at Father Michael’s lifeless body, her heart pounding. Whoever was behind this was always a step ahead, ensuring that anyone who could reveal the truth was silenced before she could even make a decision. She had to keep moving.

She glanced at the phone again. The countdown read 18:56:42.

Time was running out. She couldn’t afford to hesitate any longer.