Collecting Death (Haunted Collection Series Book 1) by Ron Ripley

Author:Ron Ripley [Ripley, Ron]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: ScareStreet.com
Published: 2017-09-27T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 33: Slipping Away

The window to the spare bedroom opened out onto the roof of a side porch. Sue was thrilled when the sash went up without a sound, and at the ease with which she was able to remove the screen. She set the aluminum frame onto the bed and went silently back to the window. Her body was still recovering from her last high, but the food she had gotten in her before that, as well as the meals she had eaten with Rolf, had given her a surprising amount of energy.

Sue slipped out the window, lowered herself down onto the roof and paused there, hands keeping her steady on the asphalt shingles. She listened for noise from within the house that would have told her the two men had heard her, and she scanned the street for any sign of lingering police.

Sue didn’t see any law enforcement, and the house was silent.

She slipped forward along the roof, saw that the windows below her were dark, and eased herself over the edge. For a moment she hung there by her fingers, then let go, dropping the last few feet to the ground, the tall grass deadening the sound of her landing.

She stayed in the shadow of Victor’s home, his neighbor’s house dark as she hurried along towards his back yard. When she reached the corner of the house, she hesitated, took a deep breath, and then sprinted towards the hedges that marked the end of Victor’s property. Her body was tense as she ran, ready for the audible click of a motion sensor light coming on.

Yet neither Victor nor his neighbor seemed to have one, and she made it to the hedge without being noticed.

She covered her mouth as she took in great gulps of air. After several minutes, she pushed her way through the thick bushes and into an open field. She found herself looking at a baseball diamond, the backstop illuminated by the moon. A pair of dugouts, painted deep green, flanked the baselines, and beyond that was a parking lot.

There were no cars or people to be seen, and Sue let out a sigh of relief. She kept to the bushes, following the curve of the outfield toward the chain-link fence that marked the boundaries of the field. Briefly, she contemplated climbing the fence, but she saw an open gate behind the first base dugout, and she hurried to it.

Sue had reached first base when she heard a noise in the closest dugout. She froze, hoping it was an animal.

“Hello, Sue,” a man said, his voice a high, nasal pitch.

He came up out of the dugout, a short, squat man who looked as though he had been chiseled out of brick, with far too much left over on his stomach. In his left hand, he held an aluminum baseball bat. He wore a pair of dark blue slacks, and a lighter blue shirt with a nametag and company patch on it that she couldn’t quite make out in the moonlight.

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