CHAPTER 12

Dylan still remained sitting at the table at the police station. He stared at his phone as he clicked it on the wood before him. He sighed and stared at the timer that he had set that would let him know when it was safe to call his brother. He waited patiently as he watched the police men walk up and down the hall.

Cole still lay as quietly as he could under the huge dining room table. He looked out of the glass cover to the table to see what was going on. He was hiding and listening carefully for the stalker to lose him and go somewhere else. The stalker was in the kitchen, searching for him in every cabinet that Cole could fit in.

He finally gave up and began to walk towards the dining room. Cole stopped himself from breathing out loud. He stood as still as he could. The stalker heard a noise coming from the front door and walked off. Cole let out a deep breath, but not too loud. His phone started to vibrate in his pocket. He quickly grabbed it, thinking the stalker might hear it. It was Dylan. He answered it immediately.

"H – He - Hello?"

"Cole, are you okay?"

"Dylan, listen to me. You were right. The stalker is here in Jake's house."

"Oh my God Cole! Are you okay? Listen the-,"

"Dylan, Jake is dead."

"You can't be serious."

"Oh, Dylan, I am."

"Cole, listen to me! The cops are on their way! They are about 15, 20 minutes away! Try and stay calm!"

"Oh God Dylan! I hope they hurry!"

"Don't worry Cole, just hide. He won't find you. Call me when they get there. Okay?"

"Okay Dylan, see you in a little bit."

Cole hung up his phone and let out a sigh of relief. He looked forward and didn't hear anything. But suddenly, he heard breathing. . . . . . .from behind him.

He didn't even need to look to know where the stalker was now. Cole broke out in a sweat. He couldn't move a muscle. He managed to turn his head. And there, laying beside him, was Jake's dog Spike. Cole started to laugh at himself when he looked up and saw a knife drawn at the glass.

Before he knew it, the stalker lunged his fists at the glass cover and bits of the glass flew everywhere. Cole rolled over just in time before the stalker could grab his leg from underneath the table.

Cole got back onto his feet and began to start in a run towards the front door. He made it through the kitchen when the stalker ran through the living room and into the exit where Cole was. Cole ran the opposite direction, in attempt to go through the back door. He knew where to go. There was a park directly behind Jake's house. He would go and hide in the tunnel at the park and wait for the police to show up.

He ran through the living room and through the back hallway. He got over to the wooden door and it flew open. He ducked down. The stalker looked through the small window. Cole grabbed the edge of the door and swung it in the stalker's face. Cole made a run through the backyard and over to the wooden fence that would be his freedom, for now.

He made his way over to the fence. There was no foot support for him to climb. He ran along the side of it for a loose board. As soon as he found one, he began pulling on it. He looked behind him. The stalker was trotting across the backyard, his knife raised in the air in his hand, headed directly for Cole.

Cole got the board loose enough for him kick it open. He did so many times. The stalker was getting closer to him. Cole kicked as hard as he could. He pushed aside the other boards and was barley able to crawl through the small space that he had made. He spotted the playground about a half mile across the park. He began running towards it, not worrying about the stalker, who could not get through the fence.

The playground was completely empty. Cole ran his feet through the sand as he ran past the slide and ran down the small tunnel, out of sight. He sat quietly with nose in his hands. He wish he knew where the stalker was, but he had no idea.