Chapter Eight - Sahara

1.8K 131 21
                                    

Chapter Eight

Sahara

I sit cross-legged on my mattress with files in front of me and a pillow tucked behind my back. Mother has been less violent in the past two weeks, something that always happens after a severe lashing. Still, she expects these reports in her office by tomorrow morning. My fingers run over the meaningless papers, but slowly, they inch toward my back. I can feel the grooves of my scars pressing against my shirt. The most recent one has since healed, but it is far from invisible. It is long and jagged, running diagonal from left hip to right shoulder.

Every few moments, I glance out at the forest. It is nearly ten o'clock; the lights will be out soon, and hopefully, so will the Brute. I know better than to look for it, yet I can't stop myself. I've stared out my window every night for the past fourteen days. It hasn't made a reappearance, but somehow, I know it will come back.

Nielle's ballet music suddenly cuts off. Mother is in her room, lecturing about something or another. I've always respected Mother's parenting, but lately, I've been less impressed. Maybe it's because I know I am right about the white flash. Maybe it's because she didn't even give me a fair chance. All I know is that being an official seems less thrilling than it did upon first arriving to Weston. Police work is supposed to be about chasing criminals, not filling out paperwork.

"Go to sleep, Sahara," says Mother. Her pointed, manicured nails grip the doorframe as she leans into my room. "I expect those reports in my office by the morning."

"Yes Mother." But the reports aren't done, nor will they be by morning. I glare at them, as if doing so will make them disappear.

Nielle waves at me; I smile back. And then, I stare out the window. The electricity shuts off and the neighborhood grows quiet, and I have the perfect view of the forest.

Hour after hour of nothingness passes. I've spent the last two weeks staying up far later than usual, and the exhaustion is starting to catch up with me. Still, it's only fifteen minutes until midnight; and I am determined to stay up until at least one.

And then, I see it; at least, I think I do. The white flash appears for half a second, and then, it's gone. I throw myself out of bed and press my hands against the window, not caring if I smudge the glass. The flash is gone, and no matter how long I stare, it doesn't come back.

But it was there. I saw it. No matter what Mother tells me, I know that something is there. I roll my fingers over the window sill, debating my options. I obviously can't report the sighting to Mother...not again. And I can't call the police without Mother finding out. I can't do anything. The Brute—or whatever the white flash is—will forever be a mystery. It will be like those unsolved crimes I used to watch on the port. An unsolved crime that occurred right under my nose. Unless I solve it.

It's an insane idea. Ludicrous, really. If Mother got upset at my report, I can't imagine what she would do if I snuck out. Especially during curfew. Forget Mother, I could go to prison for sneaking out in the middle of the night, chasing after an elusive white flash in the forest. Nobody would believe my story of good intentions.

There's another flicker of movement, or maybe there isn't. Maybe I'm just so determined to see it that my mind conjures up the image. Either way, I suddenly know my decision. I can't let this thing escape. Chasing and arresting criminals is the main duty of an officer. If Mother isn't going to do anything about this mysterious white flash, I will.

I drop onto the floor and stretch under the bed. A thick steel box is pressed against the back wall, containing four guns and various Level One equipment. They are only to be used within the walls of my training academy; and until now, I have faithfully obeyed that rule. This is important though, and I can deal with the repercussions later. I silently place two guns and a pair of handcuffs onto the floor. I'm not sure how much resistance the criminal will attempt, but these should keep it in control.

SavageWhere stories live. Discover now