15
October 27th, 3:15 PM
Mayor Hopkins stood at the podium in front of City Hall. Sheriff Carter stood by his side, as did an increasingly larger amount of security for the Mayor. The crowd before them was filled with all media types, but this time not just from the local area. There were news crews from California, Washington, Nevada – pretty much every state in the west. Citizens of Stewart Hollow were also scattered in the bunch, ranting in resentment.
Hopkins tapped the microphone a few times, making sure it worked. He was nervous about his speech. This was the third press conference they had to call in connection with the killings. It was three too many.
“Good afternoon my fellow citizens of Stewart Hollow,” the Mayor began, breathing in the fresh air. The sky was blue and the sun was out, providing somewhat of a relaxed, regrouping atmosphere for the town. “I am here this afternoon to update you on the serial killings case. I’ll be frank, honest and cut right to the chase. We currently have six identified dead bodies and now we find ourselves with two missing persons, Brandon Becker and our very own Deputy Sheriff, Allan Reed.
“It is of great importance and priority that we locate these two individuals and bring them back to their homes and jobs safely. I have been in contact with a local bureau of the F.B.I., and they are not happy with our approach. They are, and I quote, ‘one more body away from taking over’.”
The crowd roared. A reporter from a California news station shouted at the Mayor. “This is terrible police work, and none of this has looked good for your town, Mayor!”
The reporters comment sparked more havoc in the crowd. Hopkins jumped in and tried to take control again. “We are working around the clock to make this a safe community again.”
“That’s what you’ve been saying for almost a month!” Someone yelled out.
“At this rate the whole town will have to be murdered in order to find the killer! The last one standing is guilty!” A reporter yelled.
“Folks, please. I need everyone to stay calm!” Hopkins shouted.
The crowd disagreed. Hopkins threw his hands up in the air in defeat and stormed back into City Hall. Carter followed him and his crack team of security tough guys entered the crowd to restore order.
Cater stood before the Mayor’s desk in an office about six times the size of his, and decorated with American flags and presidential portraits. Hopkins rubbed his temples gently then looked up at Carter.
“You’re putting me in a tough spot, Ben. I have six bodies and two missing people. One of which is a cop. Now how does that assure safety? A cop has gone missing? Now I have the Feds breathing down my neck. This situation does not look good for any of us, you know that right?”
Carter nodded, trying to stay professional. Deep down he was ashamed. Ashamed and scared – his partner was missing.
“You need to take care of this now. Actually, you needed to take care of this about three weeks ago. Don’t make me use disciplinary actions on you, Carter. I will if I have too. I need the re-election next year.”
Hopkins waited for Carter to say something, but he never did. He left the office quietly, holding onto his diminishing dignity.
October 28th, 1:55 AM
Ashley Penner was asleep on the couch. She had barely moved in the past week. The only time she would get up was to eat or go to the bathroom, but even then, she tried to avoid it. The killings had completely messed with her mind. She was scared, grieving and alone.
Mark had left a couple days ago to clear his mind, and he still hadn’t returned. Ashley feared the worst, but then again, she thought the worst about everything nowadays. Life seemed to be crumbing. Her friends were dying and the town was aghast in fear. It wasn’t safe to go outside. It wasn’t safe to a talk your neighbor. The killer could have been anyone.
The TV was on but muted, flickering shades of blue through the dark room. ‘Zombie Invasion 3’ was on. Ashley hated those movies, but they reminded her of Mark. She needed to be comforted by his presence somehow. This was all she had.
KNOCK. KNOCK.
The knocking on the door violently woke Ashley up. She jumped to her feet in a fraction of a second. Her mascara had smeared down her cheeks and remained there for days. She wiped some of it away.
“Who is it?” She asked. There was no answer. She asked again, this time a little louder. “Who’s there?”
No answer.
“Mark?”
No answer. Maybe there wasn’t anyone even there. Maybe she had dreamt the ‘knocks’ and woke herself up.
But there was someone there. Someone was breathing heavily on the other side of the door. Someone who held a rusted butchers knife in the cold grip of his trembling hand.