Apartment 239 by Elford Alley

Author:Elford Alley [Alley, Elford]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Elford Alley

“Okay, turn left here.” Kaitlin pointed to the entrance to a small cul-de-sac.

“This is where you lived? Jesus, why the hell did you move to 239?” Abe asked.

“Community College, and that whole independence thing,” she shrugged.

“What were you going for?” Abe asked.

“Graphic design.”

“Ha, you’re better off dead.”

“Just stop here,” Kaitlin said.

Abe pulled his car against the curb.

The streets were lined with clones of two-storied, red brick homes. Some featured cutouts of ghosts and pumpkins on the lawn. Others turned their yard into a condensed set from a Universal horror film. Every house without exception displayed an American flag.

“Which one?” Abe asked.

“That one,” Kaitlin pointed. “With the Chevelle in the driveway. Dad’s oldest, as he would say.”

“Okay, here we go.” Abe opened the car door slowly with an audible creak and lowered himself out and onto the ground.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Kaitlin said. “Are you going to belly crawl, too?”

“Well, not now,” Abe said.

Hunched down like an extra in a war movie, Abe tripped and skidded up to the mailbox. Looking over his shoulder, he started wiping the SD card down with his shirt. He put his hand under his shirt and used it like a glove, opening the box and tossing the card inside.

He gave a thumbs up to Kaitlin.

“Just get back in the fucking car!” she yelled.

Abe jumped in and slammed the car door with a heavy thud behind him. He cranked the car and turned on the headlights. “Okay, it’s done. Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

“Wait.” Kaitlin placed an icy hand on Abe’s leg.

A small porch light came on as the front door opened. A young woman walked down the sidewalk. She was dressed in pajama bottoms and a loose-fitting shirt. She opened the mailbox.

“Oh. Oh, Nicole,” Kaitlin said.

“We should go,” Abe said.

Nicole reached into the mailbox and pulled out the mail. The card fell to the ground. She lowered herself down, she picked up the card. She looked around and settled her gaze on Abe’s car. Nicole made eye contact with Abe.

“Oh shit,” Abe said. “She’s looking at me.”

“Then stop staring and drive!”

“She’s looking right at me; I can’t just peel out!”

“Stop acting like a guilty motherfucker and drive!”

Abe struggled to put the gasping car into gear and slammed on the gas, causing his car to jerk forward. He cursed at himself and smoothly drove away, turning the car around mere feet from Nicole, who watched him drive away. Nicole felt unsettled, and quickly put Abe’s license plate into her phone. Once inside, Nicole looked at the pictures on the card and screamed. Nicole called 911 because she now knew the identity, or at least the license plate, of her sister’s killer.

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