Page 93 of The Fragile Ones
“I know that truck,” said Katie.
“Is it…?”
“That’s the truck that tracked me and Cisco and was here at the cabins, and the one I saw outside the hotel the other night. I’d know it anywhere.” There were no license plates.
Katie killed the headlights and opted to park a couple of houses away.
Cisco whined.
“Sorry, Cisco, you have to sit this one out.” To McGaven, she said, “You up for this? There’s no backup. How’s your head?”
“I’m fine. I’m ready.” He checked his guns and made sure he had extra ammunition. He pulled up his hood and secured it against the wind.
Katie didn’t say anything.
“What?”
She shook her head. “I’m sorry it’s come to this.”
“It’s not your fault—and this is what we do.” He squeezed her arm. “Let’s go.”
The rain had subsided and Katie led the charge with McGaven watching her back. She indicated for him to go around the back of the house as she crept up the stairs to the front door.
The house was dark and quiet.
She carefully peered into the windows and, as her eyes adjusted, could see the kitchen and living room were wrecked—cupboards open, contents spilled out, books and knick-knacks strewn everywhere. She pulled her gun out and had it ready.
The front door was locked.
Katie moved along the deck and found that a sliding door was slightly ajar. She felt the heat from the house escape. Leaning in, she listened. She could hear muted voices—escalating higher and then softer, perhaps a television on in another room, but the more she strained to listen, the more she believed it was two people talking—arguing.
She made the decision to enter. Pulling the sliding door open wider, she slipped through quietly. Luckily, the lower door pulleys were quiet as she rolled them closed. She carefully stepped over broken dishes and kitchen utensils scattered across the floor, and moved through to the living room where the light was gradually brightening enough for her to see clearly; a large sectional couch, coffee table, and two large recliners. There was also another set of sliding doors leading out onto a deck.
The voices grew louder, and she heard something shatter against the wall. She caught a few words, “You knew all along…”
Katie moved faster and reached an open door that led to a basement living area. There were carpeted stairs leading down. She began her descent, steadily tiptoeing down, one silent stair at a time, until she reached the bottom.
“No, I told you before. I had to…I had to…”
Katie recognized the voice as Chief Osborne’s. He sounded weary, slurring his speech.
“I told you that I would find out the truth. Why did you do that?” said the other voice.
Katie crouched down and moved behind a large entertainment center that helped to keep her covered.
“Why? Why?” the voice kept saying.
Katie inched closer and saw the back of a man with a heavy windbreaker. He turned slightly and she saw the profile of Officer Mason. He had his gun in his hand. The chief was tied up in a chair.
“I don’t want to do this—you gave me no choice.”
Without hesitating, and before Katie could move, Officer Mason fired the weapon twice, striking the chief directly at close range. The sound was deafening and rattled the underground room.
“Drop your weapon!” ordered Katie.
Before she could say anything else, Mason instantly charged her, knocking her back against the entertainment center and sending it crashing. He was more agile than he looked. He bolted up the stairs but Katie managed to gather herself and ran after him, cutting him off from the front door.
He paused. Instead of attacking her again, he turned in the other direction and threw himself through the sliding doors with a crash and rolled off the deck.
