Chapter 1 - The Dead End
My hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles turned white. The voice on the phone was little more than a metallic rasp, but the threat was crystal clear. Outside my windshield, the tinted windows of the black SUV rolled down, revealing the dull, gray barrel of a suppressed handgun resting on the doorframe.
“You have five seconds, Mrs. Sterling,” the voice over the phone whispered. “Four. Three.”
My mother hadn’t died in an accident. They had murdered her. And now, they were going to murder me. But Arthur hadn't spent decades hunting these monsters just for me to surrender in a cemetery parking lot. I wasn't just a hospice nurse anymore; I was his granddaughter.
I didn't reach for the briefcase. I reached for the gearshift.
I slammed the car into reverse and stomped on the gas pedal. The tires screeched, kicking up wet gravel as my sedan slammed backward into the brick pillar of the cemetery gates. The impact rattled my teeth and shattered my taillights, but it gave me the angle I needed.
Gunfire popped—thwack, thwack, thwack—the bullets spider-webbing my windshield but miraculously missing my chest. I threw the car into drive, swerving violently to the left. The side of my car scraped against the black SUV with a horrifying metallic shriek, tearing off my side mirror, but I squeezed past them.
I hit the main road doing sixty, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. The phone was still connected, lying on the passenger seat next to the briefcase.
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“You just signed your own death certificate, Clara,” the voice hissed.
I grabbed the phone, my voice trembling but laced with venom. “Tell the Chief of Police I’m coming for him.” I threw the phone out the shattered window, watching it bounce and shatter on the wet asphalt. I was officially a ghost.
