Star Killer
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Chapter 8:- Four
The next day Lauren went by the bookstore to say goodbye to the girls she worked with, and found the door cordoned off with yellow police tape, a uniformed officer blocking her path.
"Hold on," he said, holding a hand up to stop her. "You can't go in there."
"But I work here." She felt a growing sense of dread within her
"Not today you don't," the cop replied.
"What happened?"
"I can't say." But he didn't have to. She craned her neck around just enough to see through the store's windows, and what she saw made her sick. At first it almost looked like someone had thrown red-brown paint all over the stacks. But of course that wasn't it. Now that she thought about it, she could even smell the blood from out here on the sidewalk.
She turned her head away, trying to keep her lunch down, and stumbled away from the scene to find refuge in a nearby shoe store. All the way there the same thought kept running through her head, and it persisted even when she took a seat in one of the fitting chairs.
She should have been there.
She should have been one of the dead.
There was no doubt in her mind that this was not a random attack. Five years they'd been in that location without even so much as a broken window. Now, one day after she found out her brother was in some sort of trouble down south, her coworkers had been butchered. She didn't know who had done it, or why, but she knew one thing for certain: she wasn't going to wait until they came for her a second time.
She found a payphone down the street and called the hotel where Samuel de Cervantes was staying.
"Hello?" he said when he answered the phone.
"What the Hell have you gotten me into?"
"I'm sorry? Is this Miss Roberts?"
"My friends are dead," she said. "What sort of trouble is Virgil in? What sort of trouble am I in?"
"I'm sorry, Miss Roberts. But I have told you all that I know."
"Are you sure? Because if someone's trying to kill me because of Virgil, they'll probably try to kill you too."
There was a brief moment of silence on the other end of the line. "Yes," he admitted. "That does seem likely. Miss Roberts, are you planning to leave the country?"
"Yes," she said. "Tonight."
"May I, ah... may I come with you?"
The next day Lauren went by the bookstore to say goodbye to the girls she worked with, and found the door cordoned off with yellow police tape, a uniformed officer blocking her path.
"Hold on," he said, holding a hand up to stop her. "You can't go in there."
"But I work here." She felt a growing sense of dread within her
"Not today you don't," the cop replied.
"What happened?"
"I can't say." But he didn't have to. She craned her neck around just enough to see through the store's windows, and what she saw made her sick. At first it almost looked like someone had thrown red-brown paint all over the stacks. But of course that wasn't it. Now that she thought about it, she could even smell the blood from out here on the sidewalk.
She turned her head away, trying to keep her lunch down, and stumbled away from the scene to find refuge in a nearby shoe store. All the way there the same thought kept running through her head, and it persisted even when she took a seat in one of the fitting chairs.
She should have been there.
She should have been one of the dead.
There was no doubt in her mind that this was not a random attack. Five years they'd been in that location without even so much as a broken window. Now, one day after she found out her brother was in some sort of trouble down south, her coworkers had been butchered. She didn't know who had done it, or why, but she knew one thing for certain: she wasn't going to wait until they came for her a second time.
She found a payphone down the street and called the hotel where Samuel de Cervantes was staying.
"Hello?" he said when he answered the phone.
"What the Hell have you gotten me into?"
"I'm sorry? Is this Miss Roberts?"
"My friends are dead," she said. "What sort of trouble is Virgil in? What sort of trouble am I in?"
"I'm sorry, Miss Roberts. But I have told you all that I know."
"Are you sure? Because if someone's trying to kill me because of Virgil, they'll probably try to kill you too."
There was a brief moment of silence on the other end of the line. "Yes," he admitted. "That does seem likely. Miss Roberts, are you planning to leave the country?"
"Yes," she said. "Tonight."
"May I, ah... may I come with you?"
