Unlocking His Shutter: Living Art, Book Three by River Mitchell

Author:River Mitchell [Mitchell, River]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: After Glows Publishing

9

Ryder

Three days I watched as Drake got up with hope in his eyes that today would be the day, and for three days I saw that hope die little by little until there was nothing there but despair by the time we went to sleep, if you can call what Drake did at night sleep. It was more like a non-stop cacophony of nightmares, restlessness, and fear. But every morning, he woke up, put his game face back on, and went out and searched. I was not sure how he was going to survive much longer, and Scott wasn’t coping much better.

We’d been in our first quadrant of the day for about an hour when the radio crackled and Lance’s voice was heard saying that he thought his group had found something and he was calling in the Sheriff. Not wanting to waste time, we left our assigned area and made our way to the coordinates Lance gave us.

What we found was confusing. Hidden deep in a particularly densely wooded area was a fenced off area. According to Lance, it should not have been there. The fences were made of a thick harsh metal and topped with razor wire. No one was getting in without being granted entry. There was also a camera and an intercom connected to the gate that was not only chained and locked with several padlocks but what looked like a sort of hand scanner. It almost felt like we had stumbled onto a secret army barracks with how it was fortified.

“Ben and I walked the perimeter, and there are no weak spots. Tons of cameras, but we can’t work out why. Ben thinks that they’re for show as some of them are fake, and most of them, as far as we can tell, aren’t even turned on. We stayed hidden and kept out of sight, so we couldn’t get to close.” Lance filled us in. We had been the last to arrive. The Sheriff and his deputies had even beaten us. Our search area had been the farthest away.

“Have you seen anyone?” Drake asked.

“No one,” Ben said, looking directly at Drake.

We all stood and watched as the Sheriff approached the gate’s intercom and pushed the button. I’m not sure what we expected to happen.

“Hello?” a sweet young female voice said through the speaker

“Hello, this Sheriff Boyle; I am hoping that someone can come to the gate and speak with me.”

“What is this regarding Sheriff?” the voice asked with a now harder tone to her voice.

“I would be happy to discuss that with you if you were come down to the gate and speak to me in person.” The Sheriff’s response sounded very official and not in the least bit bothered by the change in the woman’s voice.

“I am not on site sir. I am at the head office. You are more than welcome to come to our offices and talk to me face to face. Otherwise, over the phone will have to suffice.” the voice said without displaying an attitude.

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