Carter stormed into the captain’s office, slamming a stack of files onto the desk. Rainwater dripped from his coat onto the polished wood, but he didn’t care. His jaw was tight, his eyes burning with determination.
“Captain, I need your approval to move on this. Now.”
Captain Myers looked up from his paperwork, a tired scowl creasing his weathered face. “Carter, it’s two in the damn morning. What the hell is so urgent?”
“It’s the murders. I know where the suspect is. I know where he’s keeping the girl.” Carter leaned forward, his knuckles whitening against the desk. “If we act now, we can save her.”
Myers raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair. “You know where he is? Based on what, exactly? A hunch?”
“It’s not a hunch.” Carter shoved a map and surveillance photos in front of him. “The locations form a pattern. They all lead to the train yard. And the footage—I saw him. I saw the girl. It all lines up, Captain. We can’t waste any more time.”
Myers sighed, rubbing his temple. “You’re chasing ghosts, Carter. We’ve been at this for months, and you think you’ve cracked it overnight? Come on.”
“I’ll stake my career on it,” Carter said, his voice steady despite the weight of his words. “If I’m wrong, I’ll resign. Effective immediately.”
That caught Myers’ attention. He straightened in his chair, his eyes narrowing. “You’re serious?”
“Dead serious,” Carter replied, his gaze unwavering.
A sly smile tugged at the corner of Myers’ lips. The department was under pressure, the higher-ups demanding results for a case that had been a black mark on the precinct’s record. Someone needed to take the fall for the failure, and Carter had just volunteered himself as the perfect scapegoat.
“Alright,” Myers said, folding his arms. “You want to gamble your badge on this? Fine. But I’m not sending a full team out there based on your... theories. You take one squad car. That’s it. If you screw this up, don’t bother coming back tomorrow.”
Carter nodded sharply. “That’s all I need.”
As he turned to leave, Myers called after him, a hint of mockery in his voice. “Good luck, Detective. You’re going to need it.”
* * *
The rain was relentless as Carter pulled into the deserted train yard. Dan was already there, pacing nervously under the weak glow of a flashlight. The skeletal frames of rusting train cars loomed in the darkness, their jagged edges casting eerie shadows under the flickering floodlights.
“You got backup?” Dan asked as Carter stepped out of the car.
“No,” Carter replied, slamming the door shut. “Captain gave me the green light, but he’s not taking this seriously. It’s just us.”
Dan’s expression darkened. “Figures. So, what’s the plan?”
Carter glanced at the map in his hand, then back at the sprawling train yard. “We start with the maintenance sheds. If she’s here, that’s where he’d keep her. It’s isolated, quiet. He’d feel safe there.”
The two men moved cautiously through the rain-soaked yard, their flashlights cutting thin beams of light through the gloom. The wind howled through the abandoned cars, creating an eerie symphony that set Carter’s nerves on edge.
As they approached the first shed, Carter’s flashlight caught something on the ground—a trail of wet footprints leading inside. He raised a hand, signaling Dan to stop.
“He’s here,” Carter whispered.
Dan swallowed hard, nodding.
Carter drew his gun, his heart pounding as he pushed the door open. The shed was dark and reeked of rust and oil. His flashlight swept across the room, revealing old tools, discarded parts, and...
“Carter,” Dan hissed, pointing to the far corner.
Carter’s beam followed Dan’s finger, landing on a small, hunched figure chained to a support beam. It was Abigail. Her eyes were wide and filled with terror, her wrists raw and bloodied from struggling against the chains.
“Oh my God,” Carter breathed, lowering his weapon slightly.
Before he could move, a voice echoed from the shadows.
“I wouldn’t take another step if I were you.”
Both men froze as the suspect stepped into the light, his black outfit clinging to him like a second skin. He held a knife in one hand, the blade glinting in the dim light.
“You’re persistent, Detective,” the man said, his tone calm and mocking. “But you should’ve stayed out of this. Now you’ve put yourself in the middle of something you can’t understand.”
Carter leveled his gun at the suspect, his voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through his veins. “Drop the knife. It’s over.”
The suspect smirked, his eyes glinting with something almost inhuman. “You think this is over? It’s just beginning.”
Before Carter could react, the man lunged toward Abigail. Carter fired, the shot ringing out and echoing through the shed.
The suspect staggered, clutching his side, but he didn’t fall. Instead, he turned and bolted into the maze of train cars, disappearing into the rain.
“Go after him!” Dan shouted, rushing to Abigail’s side.
Carter hesitated for a split second before nodding. He sprinted into the night, the beam of his flashlight slicing through the darkness as he pursued the shadowy figure. The rain blurred his vision, and the sound of his own breathing filled his ears.
Somewhere in the distance, the sound of footsteps echoed, growing fainter. Carter pushed himself harder, his mind racing with the realization that Dan’s dream, his insane theory—it was all true. And the nightmare wasn’t over yet.
* * *
