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Published by Tmonique Stephens

Alexis meets Reign, her protector/stalker. It doesn't go well.

Alexis meets Reign, her protector/stalker. It doesn't go well.

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Published by: Tmonique Stephens on Jan 25, 2013
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial


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CHAPTER FOURInstead of going home and resting as she promised Mrs. Kelly, Alexis changed out of her
P.J.’s, hopped in her car and headed downtown. The last place she should be was exactly
where she was going.Luckily, her precinct was large. Everyone
didn’t know everyone.
She showed her badgeto the desk sergeant, who gave her a cursory glance. A swipe of her ID card unlocked the door
to the employee entrance. She said a quick prayer they hadn’t moved her junk yet ‘cause shecouldn’t remember where Vic
e was located.The back stairs to the second floor ended a few feet from her desk. Alexis opened theheavy fire door a fraction and peered into homicide. Someone had dimmed the overhead lightsand most of the desk lamps were off.As she suspected, homicide was empty. The manhunt for Daniel Nicolis continued. Thepublic and press bought the lie that he fabricated his death to escape justice. Only a dozen,including herself, knew the truth.She stepped in the room. A snore halted her. Four desks back near the right side of the
room Detective’s Yates’ face was planted on the blotter. In the brief quiet between snorts, she
heard voices drifting from the conference room. They were having a meeting.
Damn. She didn’t waste time guessing how long she had before
the room filled withdetectives again. Quickly, she logged into her computer and searched for animal attacks. Pages
of dog attacks loaded. It wasn’t a damn dog that stormed through her home. It was . . . a lizard
man, thing.Someone laughed. Another joined in. The snoring stopped replaced by a protractedyawn. The rollers on a chair squeaked. Alexis ducked low in her seat.
Snap, crackle, pop. Yates must’ve stretched every muscle in his body and cracked every
bone. A chill swept over her and pebbled her skin. She spun around, sure, someone lurked
behind her. No one was there. So why did she feel like she wasn’t alone?
A file slapped against the ground bringing her back to the five W’s. Who, what, when,
where and why. She peeked around her computer and watched Yates pick up the file andstumble towards the bathroom.Time frame: One week ago. She Typed in the name she remembered, Irma Barker. LastTuesday, the retired transit worker reported a wild beast lived in the factory across the streetfrom her. She gave a vivid description of a giant lizard man. The only reason Detective Henry
took the report and didn’t chase her out of the precinct and back to Rockland Coun
ty wasMcCabe. Suddenly, the bastard had a heart. She scrawled the info on a Post-It and peeled theyellow square from the stack. Somewhere out there, this thing stalked Stella Waker. Maybe thislead would help find her.Thirty seconds later, she was back in her car and on the way to Rockland County. FreshNew York City air never smelled or felt so good. Plus, the rushing air kept her alert. The pre-dawn traffic was light. She sped along the Westside Highway just above the speed limit. Within
the next hour, this stretch of road would be a parking lot as would all the highways in NYC. Rushhour started at five in the morning and ended at ten at night. Focused on her destination she
didn’t enjoy the moment. Her thoughts were on what she would find. Not one for wild flights of imagination, she refused to assume she’d find anything. Rather, she hoped she
wouldn’t find
“You have arrived at your destination.” Her GPS intoned and she parked. Mrs. Barker
lived modestly in a small frame house fourth on the block, sandwiched between two foreclosedproperties. Her home and possibly the sixth house were still inhabited. As the report stated, thefactory lay across the street. The structure and the surrounding parking lot encompassed morethan five acres of real estate in New City, a small township a few miles from The Bronx border.Judging by the abandoned industrial park, the recession hit the town hard. The signindicating what it manufactured had been removed, but it looked like a textile factory. Threestories with a faded, red brick shell, the large windows on the first level were boarded.Alexis exited her car and adjusted her gun on her hip. She retrieved a flash light out thetrunk and paused. The glow from the few streetlights cast enough shadows to leave dozenshiding places. This was probably a waste of time. And a looming disaster. Lately, every moveshe made helped further her slide into the sinkhole she called her life. Still, she jogged acrossthe street to the shuttered factory.Carefully, she slipped through an opening in the rusted gate and caught her jacket andcaught on a sharp edge. She swallowed a curse and stuck her finger through the hole, making it

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