Chapter 12 - Darkness Falls
The sudden blackout swallowed the neighborhood in an instant, cutting off the streetlights, the porch lamps, and the humming interior appliances with a sharp, metallic click. The only illumination left came from the chaotic, strobing red and blue lights of the parked police cruisers parked along the curb.
Detective Miller’s flashlight clicked on with a sharp snap, casting a harsh, bright beam across the porch floorboards.
"Grid failure," Miller muttered, his hand resting firmly on the grip of his holstered firearm. "Someone just manually tripped the main transformer box for this entire block."
David didn't need to be told who was responsible. Clara knew this house inside and out. She knew every electrical fuse, every security blind spot, and every hidden entry point. The blackout wasn't an accident; it was a calculated ambush designed to blind the authorities and isolate them in the dark.
"We need to leave, Miller," David urged, his voice trembling as Lily buried her face deeper into his shoulder, whimpering softly in the sudden darkness. "She knows we're vulnerable here. If the power is out, the security cameras are dead too."
"The perimeter is locked down, Mr. Evans. No vehicle can get in or out of this subdivision," Miller insisted, though his eyes darted nervously toward the dense tree line bordering the backyard garden. "Stay behind me. We're moving to my cruiser."
Miller led the way down the porch steps, his flashlight sweeping across the wet grass and the shattered remnants of the garden gnomes near the walkway. The rain was beginning to pick up again, turning the damp morning air into a cold, driving mist that clung to their skin.
As they reached the edge of the driveway, a sharp, metallic screech echoed from the alley behind the house.
Miller froze, pivoting his flashlight toward the source of the sound. The bright beam cut through the driving rain, illuminating the back gate of the wooden privacy fence. The gate was swinging slowly on its hinges, creaking in the rising wind.
"Officer Vance!" Miller shouted into his shoulder radio. "Report in! Are you securing the alley sector?"
Only static hissed back through the comms. A high-pitched, electronic squeal that made the hairs on the back of David’s neck stand straight up.
"Miller..." David whispered, stepping backward instinctively. "Something's wrong."
Miller didn't answer. He took two deliberate steps toward the open back gate, his hand drawing his service weapon once again. "Vance? Answer me."
A heavy shadow detached itself from the darkness of the wooden fence, lunging forward with terrifying speed right into the center of the flashlight beam.
It wasn't Officer Vance.
It was Marcus, his hands still cuffed in steel, his face smeared with dried blood, sprinting straight toward them with a jagged piece of broken garden iron raised high in his cuffed hands.
"She lied to both of us!" Marcus screamed at the top of his lungs, charging blindly out of the dark. "She’s already inside the house!"
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Before Miller could raise his weapon to stop the charging man, a loud, deafening gunshot rang out from the second-story master bedroom window above them.
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