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Writer's pictureMark Sanders

Chapter 23: Breathless

Blogtober 2023

Clarkton dropped Nicole off at the funeral home and returned to his crime lab. Murphy followed him down to the basement, where Clarkton kept his evidence from active, solved, and cold cases.


“What are we here for, Joe?” Murphy asked.


“I’m going to build a bomb and blow that thing back to Hell,” Clarkton said.


“What are you using to make a bomb?”


“Meth lab.”


“Yep, that’ll do it.”


Murphy stepped in and helped gather the various substances confiscated from dozens of meth labs throughout the county over the years. They had both seen the damage explosions wrought, from vans to RVs to trailers to one three-story brick house in an exclusive gated community.


The phone on the wall rang—another landline—and Clarkton answered. Nicole was breathless on the other line, alternating between shouting and trying to catch another gulp of oxygen.


“Slow down, Nicole, I can’t understand you,” he said.


“I know why the creature only hunts at night,” she said. “I had a hunch, so I took one of the black substance samples and exposed it to ultraviolet light. It broke apart and dissolved like grease in dish soap. Do you have any UV spotlights?”


“Of course.”


“We need to wait until dark to go back,” she said. “If we can lure it out, I think we can kill it with the UV light.”


“That will make my job easier if that thing’s not underground,” Clarkton said.


“Which is?”


“Blowing up its ship,” he said.


Photo credit Adobe Stock #100408119

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