Continued from May 28, 2018
#AmWriting #Fiction #IndieAuthor
Marcus arrived at the house to find the front door sitting open. A jolt of hope went through his body as he climbed out of the car and ran up the porch and into the house.
“Dylan!” He called.
He waited a minute before calling out again as he went up the stairs to his bedroom. The door was shut.
“Dylan?” He said through the door as he knocked gently and turned the knob.
Dylan’s room sat empty before him. The bed was made, and there was still a glass of water on the night stand. Marcus closed the door and stood in the hall, trying to think of where he would have gone.
Marcus turned and headed back down the stairs. As he reached the bottom, his cell phone chimed a notification from his pocket.
He pulled the phone out and looked at the screen in frustration.
The notification glared at him.
9-1-1 | 742 Roberts Road
“I don’t have time for this…” He said as he sprinted for the basement.
He opened his hideaway and grabbed his uniform from the case, putting it on quickly before sitting in the chair at the desk. He pressed a small red button on the side of the desk and the wall opened on the other side as the door closed behind him.
The desk before him divided and his chair moved forward on its own as four large pieces of a car moved through the air toward him.
“I’ll have to find Dylan after…” He muttered as the pieces clicked together and the car started.