Behind The Horned Mask: Book 2

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Behind The Horned Mask: Book 2 Page 22

by Jeff Vrolyks


  Chapter Forty Nine

  Aaron drove aimlessly around the residential neighborhoods of Fresno. Twice he pulled over to text Brooke that he was sorry, to please call him, but she did not. His phone was nearly dead. He hated himself for not charging it sooner. After the second text message he prayed aloud in the dark cabin of his truck.

  “God, please guide me to the party if it is your will. Assist me in protecting Tinkerbelle. Help her to forgive me. And please don’t allow Paul to get away with what he’s planning. Amen.”

  Aaron drove mile after mile, not feeling the same sensation of being on the right path that he had when he ventured to Norrah’s eight months ago. Maybe it wasn’t God’s will, as hard as that was to comprehend.

  It was eight o’clock, and he made a total of six texts to Brooke and three phone calls, each with a lengthy apologetic voicemail. His phone was about to die. He had no idea where he was. He thought he knew Fresno pretty well, but he was driving through neighborhoods he’d never before been, and couldn’t deny that he was now lost. His phone had GPS, so he wouldn’t stay lost. But GPS was a battery guzzler.

  He arrived at a major street, one whose name he recognized, and pulled onto it. There was a 7 Eleven on a corner: he pulled in capriciously when he spotted a gathering of a few teenagers in the parking lot of the convenience store. He rolled his window down and pulled right up to them.

  “Sup, guys?” Aaron said buoyantly.

  They regarded him cautiously.

  “I’m trying to find a party. Know of any good ones?”

  They shook their heads. They were probably lying. They wouldn’t want some older guy crashing a high school party.

  “Any of you know a girl named Brooke Stanwick?”

  They shook their heads again. Not one of them uttered a word in the minute Aaron spent with them. He thanked them (for nothing) and pulled back onto Archer Avenue.

  The LCD screen on his phone sitting on the passenger seat lit up, as did Aaron’s hopes. That hope was dashed when he read Deborah. He took the call.

  “Hey, sweetie,” she said.

  “What’s up?”

  “Any luck?”

  “Not yet.”

  “I’m worried about you. It’s a dangerous night, Halloween. People getting into trouble. Maybe you should come home. I’d feel a lot better.”

  “I appreciate your concern, but I’ll be okay. I won’t stay out much longer. If I can’t find the party then it isn’t meant to be. I’d better let you go, my battery is going to die any second. I’m hoping Brooke has a change of heart and calls. See you in a bit.”

 

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