Part 4 yay! This story is a little different than the other three. The mystery is building! Again I used the
blog battles word
shift for the month of April. I hope you like it!
Catch up here:
Part 1
Flowers Have Mysteries
Part 2
Loss and Madness
Part 3
Mayhem at Dusk
“word count 967”
It Happened on the Night Shift
By Rakayle Hier
Sargent Phillips has always had the 10:00 night shift. He patrolled his blocks, whistling or thinking about his girl Hanna May.
Sam and Lester watched Philips walk his shift. They had watched Slider get off his shift and Philips take over. They knew the routine. And why not?
They needed to be able to navigate the city; to know these things.
Night shift was the most important; that was when most of the city went to bed, but some people came out to do their dirty work. It was also when boys like Lester and Sam were not permitted to wonder the streets.
If caught they would be sent home.
The friends watched the patrol man from the roof of the Daily Gazette.
When in this part of town they always came up here, because it was an easy roof to get on to. Also because the manager of the paper was nice. Though, he didn’t know the boys used his roof as a steak out.
Philips turned a corner and went out of sight. The boys climbed down.
This was the place where Sam had lost Hank Wilson. Sam was eager to pick up the trail. He knew it would help Heinz out. He brought Lester along for back up.
They sneaked out of the dark alley and quickly across the brightened street. They disappeared quick and clean into the alley on the other side.
The scent of rain hung heavy in the air. Clouds hid the stars and made the night quite dark without a light. The boys had until eleven to find something. That was when Philip’s shift was over.
They hurried along, mud squishing and clinging to their shoes.
Sam stopped. “This is where I lost Hank, I came to that corner and when I looked he was gone.”
Lester didn’t say anything, but started looking around. “Maybe he went into one of these doors,” Lester suggested.
“Could be, but which one we don’t have long.”
Lester nodded, but Sam probably couldn’t see it. Lester could hear his friend’s voice, but could barley see his silhouette. Thunder rumbled overhead.
“Which one looks more sinister?” Sam asked. Lester looked at each of the four back doors for each store that bordered the four-way alley.
“How about this one.” Lester pointed.
“Which one? I can’t see you.”
Lester found Sam’s hand and pulled him over to the brick building with a green door. “Why this one?”
“Cuz, remember, this is that opera house out front. It is only open on the weekends now, because of the depression. It might be an opening for our crook to... have a place to be on the weekdays.”
“Okay, Lester makes sense. What else do we have to go on? Let’s see if the door is unlocked.” Sam stepped up to the green door and tried the nob.
To his surprise it turned.
Just then lightning flashed, blinding the two boys. Sam and Lester blinked getting their eyes accustom to the dark again. “Let’s go in.”
Sam opened the door fully and stepped in; Lester followed.
It was even darker in here. They blinked and stared into the darkness, they found themselves in a storage room. The two didn’t stand for long, mindful of the time they needed, and the short time they had.
They came into the main room. A red curtain hid the stage.
“Maybe we went the wrong way,” Sam said feeling creeped out by the still and empty place.
“No, look,” Lester said, pointing at the floor. There was a very muddy, out of place, footprint.
“Come on, this way,” he whispered. They crept along the front row of chairs. Lighting flashed showing more of the room; the room went dark making it hard to see.
Suddenly a crack rang out. The boys jumped. That wasn’t thunder.
“Let’s get out of here!” Sam exclaimed. Lester didn’t reply and Sam didn’t wait, he ran out of the theater and out into the alley way.
The rain greeted him. Sam looked back, but he didn’t see Lester. “Lester!” Sam shouted, “Lester!” The rain and thunder made his voice sound small.
Sam heard someone shouting, much louder than his own. Was it Hank? Sam didn’t wait to find out. He dashed strait out of the alley and into the street. A car came at him head lights blaring.
The horn sounded and the car put on the brakes. Sam froze, too afraid to move. The car came inches from hitting him.
Sargent Philips ran up to the scene and pulled Sam out of the road.
“What are you doing out here?” he said roughly, taking his arm.
“They got him.. they got him,” Sam cried out.
“Got who?” he looked at the boy quizzically.
“Hank has Lester.”
“Mmm… what are you doing out here? Your soaking and it’s late.”
Sam felt his heart sink. The 10:00 shift man wouldn't understand. He shook his head, he couldn't give up yet.
“Please, please you got to believe me. Hank Wilson has kidnapped Lester!”
“Did you see this?”
“Well… not exactly, but I know it is true.”
“I see, let’s go back to the station and I’ll send a squad car to check it out.”
“No, no, it will be too late.” Sam was starting to get hysterical.
“In the opera house… we got to go now!” He tried to free himself from the police man’s grip, but he held Sam still. “I don’t know what your up to youngster, but I am taking you home.”
His shift almost over, Philips dragged Sam along protesting all the way down Second Street. The boy finally went quiet and wouldn't speak at all.
A tower clock dinged and the rain started to subside, it was 11 o'clock. Philips ended up taking Sam to the station because he had no idea where the boy lived. This was his most unusual shift yet.
What had gotten into the boy?
🔍🔍🔍🔍
Mysterious...
This was a slightly different twist on the story, but I think it turned out well. It was the best I could come up with for the word shift.
What do you think happened Lester?
What do you think will happen next?
How did you like this story?
Tell me below...
