BELL HATH NO FURY by Jeremy Waldron

Author:Jeremy Waldron [Waldron, Jeremy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sugarhouse Press, LLC

Chapter Thirty-Nine

The Sniper stared at the flier, wondering if he had made a mistake. He couldn’t stop wondering what the kid in the park had meant when he said, Even from you.

Taking the rearview mirror into his hand, the Sniper angled it onto himself. He stared into his own glimmering eyes, questioning whether the sparkle he saw was suspicion or excitement. Perhaps a little bit of each.

Did he know who I was? It wouldn’t be that hard to connect the dots. He’d talked to people he shouldn’t have. Said things he probably shouldn’t have. These were the same people he knew were trying to connect anyone to Tim. And, instead of hiding, he’d kept to his daily schedule hoping to hide in plain sight.

Living on borrowed time, the Sniper knew he had to act.

He turned his head and flicked his gaze out his window.

The sounds of sirens wailed somewhere off in the distance. He listened intently as the sound grew faint, heading away from where he was parked.

Since visiting Highland Park—the place of tonight’s vigil—his heart hadn’t stopped racing. Everything sent it into a frantic rhythm and he thought it might explode. Despite his self-imposed will to relax, tonight that was proving to be impossible. He had grown increasingly sensitive to noises that surrounded him, spooked as easily as a cat. Some minutes he felt the walls closing in on him, while other times the adrenaline he felt pumping through his veins gave him a false sense of confidence—and his cue to go.

Convinced his location hadn’t been blown, he took the paper flier into his hand once again and lifted it into the light. The vigil was to begin at 8PM, fifteen minutes from now. He could only hope that Pastor Michaels had received his gift.

Inhaling a deep breath of air, his chest expanded fully and the Sniper knew that he had done his due diligence to get him to this point. He had planned and obsessed over every last detail. Now it was time to move to his next location and prepare to send this city into chaos.

The Sniper opened his door and moved to the trunk of his car. The street lights flickered on overhead. He glanced around and made sure he wasn’t being watched before opening the back. Parked between a rusty old pickup and a two-door sedan, he remained hidden.

The trunk bounced open and the Sniper reached inside, going for his new jet-black baseball cap. Tugging it low, he next slid his arms through a matching jacket. It was thin, but adrenaline promised to keep him warm. Finally, he reached for his trusty guitar case and prepared himself for war.

Slamming his trunk shut, he turned on a heel and trotted down the sidewalk. A couple blocks later, he stopped and stared at the house he had scoped out last night. Standing on the opposite side of the street, he watched as the family inside went about their evening—assuming nothing of what their evening would become.

A tingle of excitement flushed through his body.

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