SHADOW OF A RECLUSE 

By Tessa Harvey


    Sergeant Alex King entered the police station early to catch up on some paperwork. Being Sunday, he was not expected, but his wife was away and he had decided to man the phones just in case. 
    As he opened the smart red door, a stale atmosphere made him wince. Someone needed deodorant! Stan Martyn had been on duty, he recalled.
He smelled cigarette ash, but also alcohol. Did they have a drunk last night.
    He scanned the report on the office desk. It had been left unfinished. Someone brought in for questioning. A curdled half cup of old coffee was near the untidy table edge. Alex sniffed. Alcohol. The keys were thrown across the desk too, not hung up. A terrible thought crossed his mind. He grabbed the keys. The cell was locked. Opening the door, he was horrified. A man lay face down on the floor, arms over his head protectively. Kneeling down, King saw the man was unconscious, very cold. There was a faint pulse, not very regular.
    Quickly he called for an ambulance and someone to stay at the station. It was his duty to go with the unfortunate man. Heads would roll over this. Throwing a blanket over the man, lifting his head onto a pillow, he saw the guy was burning up and moaning. "God help him," he cried, "This is bad."

COMING SOON
Part 2 - Shadowfall

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