The Hunt of Altswood High (The Altswood Saga #1)

Chapter 8 - Collision

Chapter 8 - Collision

It resonated quietly, but sharply. The footsteps sounded like they came from sandals or flip flops similar to mine, but I wasn't sticking around to find out.

"Run!" I hissed, yanking Gabriel into action.

"We need to see who it is though!" he argued, though his feet offered no resistance and picked up speed.

"That's what every dead victim in horror movies say," I snapped. "It can be Maddison newly risen from the dead for all I care. Just keep running!"

I didn't hear any sounds of pursuit, but we weren't safe until we got off the dark street.

I risked a quick glance back, only catching objects sitting stationary, lit barely visible in the darkness by moonlight. Panting, I slowed to a brisk walk as we reach my street.

"We're not slowing now," Gabriel said, hurrying me into a run again. "If we're going to pretend we live in a horror movie, the teenagers are always killed right as they think they're safe."

So we ran the short distance to my little house, scaring the pee out of Dad who was just opening the door to see what the commotion was.

"Woah, woah, woah," Dad exclaimed. "What's going on?"

I didn't stop. I shoved Gabriel into my house, and slammed the door shut, pressing my back against it. Dots of black danced across my vision, pinpricks of light invading in the center. Only then did I allow myself to start gasping for breath.

"We... followed... ran..." I tried to explain.

"Footsteps... didn't see..." Gabriel contributed.

I lifted my head to see Dad's face, held in disbelief.

"You were followed?" Careful suspicion clouded in. "Are you sure? There are some birds here that make quite a racket."

"No—" I heave a breath, "—we were followed," I insisted. "There—"

"Luca," he cut in sharply, eyes almost telling me not now.

I furrowed my eyebrows. "But—"

"Luca," Dad warned again.

Why didn't he want to hear about this? He always listened to my rambling, silly or serious, and it was definitely serious this time.

But then it became clear.

"Dad?" Gabriel exclaimed in surprised, peering into our living room. He was still breathless, and became even more so in his confusion.

My dad sighed.

"Mayor Kingston and I have been discussing the recent influx of crime on the island," he explained. Well, that was one mild way to put it. "Since you kids are here anyway, perhaps you'd like to offer some insight."

Dad ushered us into the living room, where Gabriel's father was inspecting what seemed to be an explosion of files on the table. He glanced up, offering Gabriel the slightest fatherly greeting and a nod to me before turning back to immerse himself in a jumble of sentences and profiles.

"But the Hunt's been called off," Gabriel said innocently, taking a seat next to the mayor and reading over his shoulder. "Shouldn't the killings stop too?"

The two of them had the exact shade of gossamer blond hair, though the Mayor's was trimmed neat while Gabriel's kept his floppy and unruly.

"We still have to catch them," the Mayor said. His voice was low, a throaty baritone born for public speaking.