Page 1 of Night Hawk
1
They killed Toni’s father. She wouldn’t let them kill her too.
She lifted her gun and eased into the musty-smelling abandoned high school in Rugged Point, Oregon. Sweat beading up on her lip despite the frigid January night, she crept down the inky dark hallway.
One foot in front of the other. Inch by inch. The darkness like a cloak around her. Her fingers itched to flick on her phone’s flashlight. She couldn’t. Not without alerting anyone in the building to her arrival.
Besides, she was an experienced FBI agent. She could handle a little darkness, right?
She continued forward, her ears tuned for any sound, even as tiny as a mouse scurrying across the floor. A nearby broken window let in the sharp cry of a hawk soaring overhead. Almost as if the bird was warning her to take care.
But it was as clueless as she was as to why the note she’d found lodged under her vehicle’s wiper summoned her to this school and told her to arrive at exactly five p.m. The note claimed it had to do with her father’s murder a year before, but what did he have to do with an old rural schoolhouse halfway across the country? He’d recently lived in Virginia. This place was on the southern Oregon coast. No connection that she knew of.
A pinpoint of setting sun razored through a hole in the wall and spotlighted the crumbling tile floor beneath her feet. She was probably being exposed to all kinds of environmental hazards in the 1940’s building. Asbestos being the number one concern. But she’d risk just about anything to find the person who killed her dad.
At the end of the hallway she turned left, following the instructions she’d received. She paused to assess the new space. The directions told her to go to the basement to a janitor’s closet at the bottom of the stairs. There she would find the information she needed to arrest the killer she’d been seeking since the day her dad died.
She inched down, a step at a time and paused on the first landing located above ground. She glanced out a wide window that was so covered with dirt she could barely make out the miles of abandoned land surrounding the property. Giant cobwebs clung to the corners of the window, and her imagination soared. She pondered the immense size of spiders needed to create those webs.
She shuddered, wanting to call it quits. She wasn’t much for the outdoors and the creatures it entailed. Not like the native Oregonians she worked with every day.
A bat launched itself from above. She ducked and cringed as it cried out, winging its way across the space. The creature lit on the top of a doorjamb below.Yuk.The spiders were bad enough, but this?
Could she keep descending the stairs with the bat above? She could face down killers, but a bat?
Remember Dad. Gunned down in front of you. Deep breaths. Keep going. You can do this.
She inhaled the air with dust particles dancing in the last of the sunlight. Blew it out. Drew more in. And started down the last flight of stairs. One, two…pause. Listen.
Three, four, five…pause. She swiped sweaty palms against her pant leg and gripped her gun again.
What she wouldn’t give for this place to have electricity so she could turn on one of the white schoolhouse globes above.
She took another step. Only one more to go.
A car engine rumbled in the distance growing closer. Likely not a concern. Not with the highway running nearby.
She took the last step, sliding her feet over the tiles and letting out a breath. The pale light shone above the door, where the bat watched her with beady little eyes.
She drew in another long breath. Stepped forward into a hallway. Looked both ways. Shadows clung to the area. She squinted, but murky blackness greeted her. She couldn’t see a thing beyond six feet. Nothing for it but to move ahead and open the door. A wide bar lifted perpendicular to the door could drop down and hold it in place. A padlock hung from the end. Overkill for few chemicals and a mop bucket, but maybe the room hadn’t always been for the janitor.
Shaking her head, she stepped slowly forward. Grabbed the old knob. Opened the door. Entered.
She would need light to see this supposed lead. She reached for her phone to use the light, noticing she had no cell service in the basement. Hopefully she wouldn’t need to call for help.
A telltale rattle sounded from the floor near the back of the room.
Her heart lurched, the high-pitched sound like a baby rattle shaken at supersonic speed paralyzing her. A rattlesnake. No doubt.
Move, for goodness sake! Move! Get your gun. Shoot it.
She couldn’t. Not when her worst nightmare was unfolding in front of her.
She tried to lift an arm. Her muscles wouldn’t move. Not even in a finger. Or her feet. She opened her mouth and screamed like there was no tomorrow. If she didn’t get her feet going, there might not be one.
The door slammed shut behind her, sealing her in the tiny space with the snake slithering even closer, and she prepared her mind for the fangs to puncture her skin.
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