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Sheila's heart raced as she stared at the darkened house, fear and anticipation clawing at her insides.What if the killer was in there right now, slaughtering another family?The thought made her sick, but she knew she couldn't act rashly.Finn was right—she needed to wait for backup.
"Worried about me?"she asked.
"Of course I'm worried about you.I'm learning very quickly not to underestimate you, but that doesn't mean you're invincible."
"Don't worry—I'm not trying to make headlines here."
Needing something to occupy her restless energy, Sheila got out of the car and approached the parked vehicle.It was an older model truck, its paint faded and chipped.The tires were covered in mud, hinting at recent off-road activity.
As she peered through the window, she noticed the messy interior.Fast food wrappers and empty soda cans littered the floor, a chaotic jumble of maps and clothes strewn across the seats.A duffel bag lay open on the passenger side, revealing a tangled mess of ropes and duct tape.Her gut clenched at the sight, a shiver running down her spine as she thought about the killer's previous victims.
"Talk to me, Sheila," Finn said."What are you up to?It sounded like you were walking."
Sheila took a deep breath, her eyes never leaving the truck's cluttered interior."Just looking at that vehicle, I told you about."
A note of warning entered Finn's voice."Don't approach it, Sheila.You hear me?If it's the killer's vehicle, he might return and find you there."
"I'm already here, Finn.Besides, I'm keeping an eye out.I just wanted to see if there was anything that might confirm..."She stopped abruptly as her gaze fell upon a notepad sticking out from the jumble of fast food wrappers and empty soda cans on the floor of the vehicle.Curiosity piqued, she cautiously opened the door, her ears straining for any sound coming from the house.As she reached in and grabbed the notepad, a chill ran down her spine.
"Roy Hubbard" and "Macy Warren" were scrawled across the top of the page, their names crossed out with heavy, angry lines.Sheila's heart sank as she realized this was likely the killer's list of targets.More names followed, each one a potential victim waiting to meet the same gruesome fate as the Hubbards and the Warrens.
"You still there?"Finn asked.
"Still here," she said into the phone, her voice hushed."I just found something inside the vehicle.It looks like a...a hit list."
"Shit," Finn cursed through the line."How many names are there?"
"Too many," she replied, her eyes scanning over the list."Roy Hubbard and Macy Warren are crossed out, but there's still more."
"Damn it," Finn muttered."I'm on my way, but it'll be a few minutes.Just stay put, and don't do anything until I get there, okay?"
Before Sheila could respond, a blood-curdling scream pierced the air, coming from inside the house.Her head snapped up, her instincts kicking in.She didn't have time to wait for Finn.
"Someone's in trouble, Finn!"she hissed into the phone, her resolve steeling."I can't just stand here!"
"Wait for backup, Sheila!"Finn warned."You don't know what you're walking into."
"Get here as fast as you can," she said, her tone leaving no room for argument."But I have to do something."With that, she ended the call, her heart pounding in her chest.
As she sprinted toward the house, she was keenly aware of the fact that she was unarmed, as well as the fact that the killer had used a gun on the last family.Despite the potential danger, however, she couldn't stand idly by while someone might be in mortal peril.Her bravery and willingness to risk her own safety for others surged like a tidal wave, propelling her forward.
"Please let me get there in time," she whispered, her voice cracking as she neared the house.
As she reached the front door, she became aware of a pounding noise from within, reverberating through the still night air.Without hesitation, she threw open the door and raced inside, following the sound, which seemed to be coming from upstairs.
"Whoever you are, I'm coming!"she shouted, hoping her words would give some semblance of comfort to the potential victim.As she bounded up the stairs, trying to quell the panic rising in her chest.
Her breath caught in her throat as she reached the top of the stairs, her eyes immediately drawn to the frantic scene unfolding before her.A Hispanic woman, sweat beading on her forehead and desperation etched into her features, was desperately restraining her teenage son with both hands.The boy struggled against his mother's grip, his face contorted with fear and anger.
"Let me go!"he yelled, trying to wrench himself free."I have to save her!"
Down the hallway, a man was attacking a door with a hammer, the wood splintering under the force of each frenzied blow.His hair was wild and unkempt, his eyes focused solely on the task at hand.He seemed oblivious to everything else around him, including Sheila's presence.
"Please, call the police!"the teenager implored when he noticed Sheila, his voice strained with panic."My sister's in there, and he's going to kill her!"
It occurred to her that since she wasn't wearing a uniform, these people didn't know who she was."I'm with the police," she said.
Then, taking a deep breath, she steeled herself for what she had to do.She knew that every second mattered, and she couldn't afford to hesitate.Channeling her years of kickboxing training and her innate sense of determination, she sprinted down the hallway, her heart pounding in her ears.
