Chapter 6 - The Sound of the Shot
The gunshot reverberated off the cinderblock walls, turning the elementary school classroom into a tomb of absolute silence. Lily froze, the brass key dangling from her trembling fingers. For a terrifying second, the only sound was the steady hum of the amber emergency strobe light flashing against the chalkboard.
"Dad?" Lily whispered, her voice barely a breath.
She turned slowly, her sneakers crunching on stray pieces of window glass. Staff Sergeant Gordon was slumped against the front desk, one hand pressed hard against his shoulder where a dark, spreading stain was rapidly soaking through his digital camouflage uniform. The federal agent stood over him, smoke still curling lazily from the barrel of the suppressed pistol.
"I told you to surrender the package, Sergeant," the agent said coldly, stepping closer to kick Gordon’s legs away from the desk. "You just bought your daughter a one-way ticket to a black site."
"You... missed... the main artery," Gordon wheezed, a bloody smile twisting his lips as he spat a mouthful of crimson onto the polished floor. He managed to lift his head just enough to catch Lily’s eye across the room. His gaze was fierce, commanding, and utterly desperate. Run.
Lily didn't wait another second. She jammed the brass key into the old iron keyhole of the AV closet door. It slid home with a satisfying click. She threw the heavy door open, stumbled inside into the dark, dusty confines filled with spare projector screens and stacked folding chairs, and slammed it shut behind her just as heavy boots began to pound across the floor toward her hiding spot.
Inside the pitch-black closet, Lily clamped both hands over her mouth to muffle her ragged breathing. Her heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird. Through the thin wooden slats of the door, she could hear the muffled voices outside.
"Check the perimeter! She couldn't have made it far without a jacket—wait, where's the pack?"
"The decoy was empty. The sergeant must have slipped the drive to her before he went down."
"Find her. Tear this wing apart brick by brick if you have to. If she reaches the old maintenance tunnels, we lose the whole chain of custody."
Lily’s fingers traced the cold metal key resting against her chest. She reached down, her hand brushing against something hard tucked inside the pocket of her pink pastel hoodie—not the drive, but her old plastic school ID and a small, folded note written in her father’s hurried, messy handwriting. She pulled it out, squinting in the pitch blackness as she rubbed her thumb over the rough paper.
With agonizing slowness, she unfolded the paper and brought it close to her face. Written in black ink were coordinates—latitude and longitude numbers she had memorized from the maps in her geography book—followed by a chilling instruction: If I don't meet you at the water tower by sunset, trust no one in uniform. Find the man with the red scarf.
May you like
Before she could process what the words meant, the handle of the AV closet door began to slowly, deliberately turn from the outside.
---
