Want an excerpt from my upcoming novel, Sins of the Mother? Read on!
His camera swept over a thick bush and something caught his eye. He stared through the viewfinder for nearly a minute trying to figure out what he was looking at. At first, he thought it was a trick of some nearby light, or even the bush itself. Then he realized exactly what he was looking at. There was a pale, white face staring up at the house. Its emotionless stare was utterly terrifying, sending chills down Ethan’s spine.
“What the hell?” Ethan whispered, slinking down in his chair. It did not seem to move, making Ethan question if it was a person or some grotesque lawn ornament. As if on queue, the head shifted slightly as if trying to locate a nearby sound. Ethan kept as low as possible, making sure to keep his eyes on the mysterious figure. He did not want to draw attention to himself but he could not lose sight of it either.
The white faced watcher seemed to be staring up at Martin’s home in curiosity, as if trying to figure a way in. Ethan had no clue what was happening before his eyes but it could not be good. It was then he wished he had brought the gun after all. It would have made him feel a little bit more secure.
Music still blasted from the house and the woman cried in ecstasy. Ethan knew he had to stop the man from entering. He was not sure what he was going to do, but he had to think of something. There was no telling the figure’s intentions, though it was not a stretch to imagine they were malicious.
As he prepared to exit the car and make a move towards the masked figure, something in his rearview mirror caught his eye. In the mirror he spotted another masked figure, tall and broad shouldered. His torso was covered with a dark black hoodie, the hood pulled up over his head. Black sweat pants bagged off his legs and his hands were covered with gloves, black of course. It was a truly foreboding sight which made Ethan leap out of his skin.
He reached forward for the key hanging from his ignition, but the figure slunk down out of sight. It caused Ethan to stop and crane his neck, desperate to find the masked man. There seemed to be no sign of him, like he vanished into thin air. He knew it was impossible, but his mind wandered to the spotless crime scene. Had these masked people been the ones responsible? Their clothing would explain why no evidence was found. They were extremely careful, not exposing any part of themselves.
Ethan turned back around, failing to see the masked man, and was greeted with the familiar empty stare of the white mask. It stared at him from outside the windshield, not moving, only staring. “Jesus Christ,” Ethan yelled, turning the key in the ignition.
The man did not move out of the way, in fact he moved closer placing a gloved hand on the hood. He slowly drew one finger across the hood as he began to approach the driver side window. In his right hand stood a very sharp, crooked knife. It was oddly shaped, like a lightning bolt. Ethan had no intentions of finding out what the blade would be used for. He shifted in reverse and slammed on the gas. Tires screeched as he tore off backwards.
The masked figure stood motionless in the street. Ethan dared a glance back at the house and was surprised to see the other masked figure still standing in the bushes, unfazed by the events in the street, almost as if in some sort of trance.
Slamming on the brakes, Ethan switched to drive and revved the engine. The masked man in the road cocked his head as if to encourage Ethan to run him down. He decided to obey and slammed on the gas. Like a homing missile, Ethan aimed towards the masked man, but he leapt to safety at the last second. Ethan kept the pedal firmly pressed and drove as quickly as he could out of the neighborhood.
As he tore down the streets to safety, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed 911. The operator answered instantly in a relaxed, almost monotone voice. “Send officers to the home of Martin Jones immediately, something is about to happen. The address is-“
“Sir, please calm down. Tell me exactly what has happened.”
“There are masked men about to break into a man’s home. I don't think they're there for his TV.”
“You believe they are there to hurt this person? Whyl?”
“Because who the hell wears a mask outside in the middle of the night? Lady, just send every available officer to this address!” He rattled the address off in short breaths.
“I’ll have an officer check it out.”
“You better send them quickly, otherwise you’ll be chasing a ghost.”
“I’m sorry sir, what do you mean?”
“Jesus, contact Detective Winchester, tell him his suspect is about to go missing.”
Before the woman could respond Ethan disconnected the call, tired of arguing with her. With one hand on the wheel, he dialed Winchester’s number. “Please pick up,” he whispered, hoping Winchester was not still bitter with him.
Evan Bond, author of To the Wolves and Death Can Wait, is a thriller/suspense author. When not writing, he can be found hiking or camping in the beautiful state of Florida.