Wish Upon A Sunset

The Thrill Of The Chase

Logan

The moment I saw Arlo pull the trigger, the world around me shifted into slow motion, as if submerged in thick honey. My body reacted before my mind could fully process what was happening. I lunged for Emma, wrapping my arms around her and tackling her to the ground. The cold, hard floor hit my shoulder as I twisted to take the brunt of the impact, shielding Emma with my body.

We both tensed, waiting for the sound of gunfire, for the searing pain of a bullet.

But it never came.

Instead, I heard Arlo curse, his voice both frustrated and panicked. The acrid smell of gunpowder permeated the air, but there was no blast, no bullet. The gun had misfired.

I lifted my head, and for a moment, my heartbeat drowned out all other sounds. Anger contorted Arlo's face as he turned and bolted for the door. The bell above the entrance jangled discordantly as he shoved it open and disappeared into the night.

"Call 911!" I shouted at the clerk, my voice rough with adrenaline. I glanced down at Emma, her eyes wide with shock. "Are you okay?"

She nodded, her breath coming in quick gasps. "Go," she said, pushing at my chest. "Go after him."

I hesitated for a split second, torn between staying with Emma and pursuing Arlo. But my training kicked in, and I knew I couldn't let him get away. With a last look at Emma, I scrambled to my feet and took off after Arlo.

The cool night air hit my face as I burst out of the store. My eyes scanned the parking lot, glimpsing Arlo's figure disappearing around a corner. My feet pounded against the asphalt as I gave chase, my breath coming in controlled, even bursts.

The streets were unnaturally quiet, traffic now nonexistent, the sound of our footsteps resounding off the buildings. I could hear Arlo's ragged breathing ahead of me, growing closer with each stride. My muscles burned with exertion, but I pushed harder, gaining ground.

My stomach dropped as we neared Emma's apartment complex, recalling her mention of the necklace and his residence at the stairwell's rear. The thought of Arlo having any connection to Emma's home made my blood run cold.

I watched as Arlo disappeared into the laundry room; the door slamming shut behind him. The metallic clang of the lock engaging reverberated in the stairwell. I skidded to a stop, my fist pounding against the door.

"Arlo! Open the door!" I shouted, my voice bouncing off the concrete walls. Silence was my only answer.

Frustration and determination warred within me. I knew I needed backup, but I couldn't risk Arlo escaping. Making a split-second decision, I raced back to my Jeep, my hand shaking as I fumbled with the keys.

The center console popped open, and I grabbed my gun and flashlight. The familiar weight of the weapon in my hand was reassuring, grounding me in the moment's frenzied confusion. With a deep breath, I headed back to the laundry room.

Standing outside the door, I could hear my heartbeat in my ears. "Arlo, this is your last chance. Open the door!" I called out, my voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through my veins.

When no response came, I knew what I had to do. Taking a step back, I raised my leg and kicked with all my strength. The door crashed open with a resounding bang, the lock splintering from the frame.

I entered the room cautiously, my gun raised and flashlight sweeping across the dimly lit space. The air was thick with the smell of feces and mildew, an unpleasant combination that made my nose wrinkle. Shadows danced across the small space as my flashlight beam cut through the darkness and my blood froze in my veins when the light landed on the collection of knives hanging up on the wall.