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World War II: 1939 ~ 1945
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Untitled Document This Novel Is Copyrighted (TXu 1-742-116) - And is in need of a Publisher

Ch. 01

      Officer Dave Sheppard began his usual graveyard shift when he caught a glimpse of something peculiar, a deserted vehicle hidden down a remote bayou trail. Dimming the lights on his patrol car, he coasted from the road when his radio flashed an incoming call.

      "Sand Lake One-One : Signal Check : What's your status?"

      "Eleven here, I'm stationary on Route 118 near an abandoned that's pulled a good ways down a trail without any signs of movement."

      "Sand Lake One-One : Copy that : Does it appear to be an accident?"

      "Negative, so far as I could tell the vehicle looks abandoned."

      "Then re-route to an accident at Emerson Bend : Respond as Code Urgent."

      Dave knew he needed to act fast. Every second the sun spilled over the horizon was another lost.

      "Dispatch, I need a few minutes to check on this vehicle. There's no good reason for anyone to be this far from town at night, especially without a trailer."

      "Sand Lake One-One : Understood; you're been assigned a priority call and need to proceed there immediately."

      "Are they serious for an ambulance; more than two occupants in any vehicle?"

      "Affirmative : Hispanics need a translator : A single truck lost control and left the road : Crash confirms six occupants with at least two possible fatalities : Multiple ambulances are already en-route : I'm sending across your case information now."

      'Even if I push hard;' Dave calculated. 'It's at least twenty minutes there, who knows how long to clean up and then another twenty back. I'll never make it in time.'

      Enough time passed where Central Dispatch wondered if they'd lost radio contact, so they hailed the lone unit again.

      "Sand Lake One-One : I need your immediate status."

      Only by then Dave was speeding toward Emerson Bend; blue and red lights flashing behind sirens leading the way. By the time he picked up the microphone to confirm, there was a level of frustration in his voice that came across loud and clear.

      "Dispatch : Eleven here : I'm en-route to Emerson Bend : Out."

      Something truly sinister had indeed been allowed to escape. And it wasn't just the colossal failure of sending the only person who could possibly do a thing about it, rocketing in the opposite direction. It was more how shadows of that abandoned mystery vehicle gnawed with an allure so potent that the suspense alone was more than he could bear. Dave eventually grabbed up his microphone to radio in.

      "Dispatch : Eleven again : Requesting an immediate officer assist."

      "One-One : Go ahead : What's your status?"

      "Still proceeding to Emerson Bend as directed. I'm requesting an assist on that abandoned vehicle I reported. Something's definitely not right."

      "One-One, Roger that. We already tried contacting the other Sand Lake unit immediately after your call, but he's gone off shift and fails to respond. Did you manage to record any plates?"

      "Negative on any plates, it's getting dark and I was rolling by so fast that I barely noticed. It's located about three hundred meters north of mile marker eighty-six on the west side of the road. I'm unsure of the exact color. If I had to guess, I'd say it was a late model Pontiac; maybe dark blue or green. Whoever responds will need to shoot their alley lights down each of the small access trails leading toward the bayou or they'll miss it.

      "The car -"

      "Dave;" Her slick southern accent interrupted playfully. "Let's hope this late on Sunday night that it's just two lovers enjoying a romantic moment together. Don't worry though; we'll get that other Sand Lake unit back on-line in a jiffy."

      Only down that same cutoff where had Dave failed so desperately to be, a killer raised his head to a patrol car's siren cutting the evening air. With blade in hand, the man tensed while still trying to re-assure a young woman pinned helplessly beneath.

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