Descend to Darkness: A Krewe of Hunters Novella by Heather Graham

Author:Heather Graham [Graham, Heather]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Krewe of Hunters, Heather Graham, 1001 Dark Nights, paranormal romance
Publisher: 1001 Dark Nights Press
Published: 2022-10-10T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 6

As Jackson parked on the outskirts of the cemetery, he was surprised to see a patrol car pull up and the ghost of Colonel George Clayborn slide through the door of the rear right passenger side, unnoticed by the officer who had been driving the car.

Clayborn saw Jackson and nodded, aware he needed to wait for the officer to approach Jackson before he spoke to him.

“Special Agent Crow,” the officer said in greeting. “Anything more on finding Officer Whittaker?”

“I believe our experts will have something they can give us on video shortly of whoever took off with Officer Whittaker. We have a few great dogs in the Krewe, and one of our best scent dogs found a trail that let us know he was put into a car and driven away. If we can trace some of the video, we’ll have an idea where to focus a search.”

“Thank you. That’s the hardest thing. Not knowing where to begin,” the officer said. “Anyway, sorry to interrupt your work here, but... well, yeah. Everyone loves Whittaker. We’re all praying he’s still alive. We almost don’t understand why we’re still... I mean, what was discovered here was horrible, but those victims are dead. We can only pray that Whittaker is still alive. He needs to be found before he ends up like the others.”

“We are well aware of that,” Jackson assured him. “But if we can figure out what happened here, we can narrow down who took Whittaker.”

“Yeah, right. Sorry. I, uh, sorry.” He smiled awkwardly. “I didn’t mean to interrupt you here, and I know you guys don’t really keep hours, but it will be dark soon. The cemetery has lights, but between the density of the woods and no crypt-to-crypt lighting, it’s going to be dark. I’m on the night crew, so I’m going to relieve Officer Kyle over there, but I’m not sure what you can do this late.”

“An officer is missing.”

“You’re going to keep looking. And we’re grateful. As I said, everybody loves the man.”

“Of course—” Jackson began.

He broke off as a series of shots rang out, ripping through the quiet air of the cemetery.

He and the officer looked at each other, froze for a second, frowned, then turned to the wall and leapt over it, drawing their weapons as they did.

“Coming from the woods, there,” Jackson shouted.

“Right. Hell, we’ve got no cover.”

“Yes, we do. Stay between the tombs and the mausoleums,” Jackson told him.

He was already heading for the woods, his mind on Angela and Patrick.

Fortunately, he quickly saw the two of them, despite the encroaching darkness. They were headed in the direction of the shots, carefully dodging tombs, rounding mausoleums, and skirting stones as they ran.

The shooter seemed to have two weapons, a semi-automatic among them. A single shot was immediately followed by a barrage of bullets.

As Jackson closed in on the others, he heard a sudden scream of anguish coming from the woods. Another shot slammed into a stone, this time a single shot.

Jackson reached the side of a mausoleum where Angela had taken cover.

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