Out of the Shadows Read Free Page A

the woods, where I could be left alone to live the rest of my life in peace. The silence suited me, but now, it was suddenly unnerving and rattled my core. I wondered if I would be able to return home and endure the solitude after all of this – whatever this was.
    To my right against the wall, the fax machine whirred loudly, and I jumped, falling backward into someone’s desk, knocking over paperweights and photos. The machine had come alive and now beeped, indicating an incoming message. Hoping it would contain any snippet of information that might clue me in on what was happening, I waited impatiently for the paper to push through, glancing around with keen awareness, worried that the noise might attract… something .
    Just before the sheet released itself, I snatched it from the machine, which quieted once again. It was a typed memo from the county’s Police Headquarters in Franklin, the nearest metropolis, about twenty minutes south of my abandoned nightmare town: Please advise – Shady Heights has fallen. Fifth station in county to go dark. Report your status.
    “What the hell?” I mumbled quietly, my brow furrowed with concern for the fallen city to the west. I continued down the list of stations that had gone dark, allegedly from the same problem that currently plagued my town. If there were a connection among them, I failed to see it. I scrawled a quick reply: This is Nick Barren. Angelwood has fallen – no other survivors yet. What’s going on? Send instruction.
    Now heading through a side door toward the armory, I crept down the short hall past the evidence vault and interrogation rooms. When I approached the weapon storage door, I was surprised to find it unlocked. Concerned, I cautiously peeked into the room’s darkness, slowly pushing the door open.
    I knew that guns, ammo, and protective gear lined the walls of the small room, but it was too dark to see anything. I stood at the threshold, holding my breath, listening for sounds that would reveal what lurked in the shadows. But after a minute passed with no incident, I considered it safe to flip the light switch.
    Once inside, I strapped on a flak jacket under my hoodie and attached a holster around my waist, fitted with a SIG Sauer P228 (my preferred handgun) and another pouch to carry extra clips for the gun. It felt oddly soothing to be back in my old work gear, but that was a Nick Barren of the past. This new Nick was no longer a cop and was therefore not held under certain rules and scrutiny. On my way out of the armory, I also swiped a black Maglite. I still had no idea what I might be up against, but if it was going to go down at night, I thought it better to be able to see what I was firing at.
    I headed back past the fax machine – no response from HQ – and headed toward the holding rooms. I opened the door, entering the perpendicular hall containing the ten secured cells, five on either side of the door, my weapon raised to bring a certain level of comfort I had lacked up to now. As the door quietly closed behind me, a man’s voice said, “So, I reckon you’re the asshole makin’ all the noise out there?”
    I spun quickly on my heels, gun trained on the person who had spoken. He was locked in the cell on the end, wearing black pants and a black button-up shirt with a gold badge on the breast pocket. His scrawny figure and fresh face revealed his youth, not possibly more than twenty years old – probably a cadet straight out of the local community college. If the thickness of his drawl was any indication, he was born and raised right here in Angelwood. “Who are you?”
    The guy scoffed slightly. “I work here! Who the hell’re you?”
    I hesitated but quickly realized he couldn’t possibly hurt me while locked behind bars – not that his wiry frame would be any match for my brawn. I lowered my weapon. “Nick Barren.”
    His eyes narrowed, and a slight smirk crossed his lips. “So, you’re the famous Nick Barren?”
    If it had