Chapter 2 - The Old Friend
I gasped and dropped the trowel.
I spun around to find Adrian standing over me.
He looked much older, his hair completely white, but his eyes were just as cold.
He didn't look like the grieving friend who had visited me fifty-six years ago.
He held a suppressed pistol aimed directly at my chest.
He demanded that I hand over the lockbox and the phone.
I asked him how he knew I was here.
Adrian smiled a cruel, thin smile.
He admitted he had been having my house watched for five decades.
He knew James was still alive and waiting for the right moment to reach out.
I kicked a cloud of loose dirt directly into Adrian's face.
He stumbled backward, cursing loudly as he rubbed his eyes.
I grabbed the phone and the lockbox and sprinted toward my car.
I heard the quiet, deadly spit of a suppressed gunshot.
The side mirror of my car shattered into a million pieces.
I threw myself into the driver's seat and slammed my foot on the gas pedal.
I sped down the street, my heart pounding in my throat.
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The phone in my hand suddenly beeped with a new text message.
It was an address, followed by the words, "He is coming for you, drive faster."
