Hello, Little Sparrow by Jordan Jones (the reading list .TXT) 📕

It wasn’t over.

He still felt the need to kill; he wasn’t finished. Madison was waiting for him in his mother’s bedroom with a bright red dress, her hair layered on top of her head in such a fashion Brooks thought she was actually alive.

His hands were thrown forcibly down on the workbench where his mother’s bed used to be.

“This isn’t finished, is it?” He asked the menacing shadow in the red dress. “I killed the man who started it all, yet I feel like nothing has been achieved.”

“You said it,” she spoke softly from behind him.

“I thought once I killed the man responsible for all the vile on earth, it would be done,” he said. “Have these deaths meant anything?”

She said nothing. He could still feel her, but she didn’t speak.

Brooks’ eyes turned black as if they were void of any life at all, and he instantly felt the need to search the thumb drive for another sex offender and end their life immediately.

He wanted their family to watch as they gasped for breath.

“They’re here,” Madison spoke again, but this time she wasn’t visible.

Outside, Brooks heard a car pull up in front of the house. Peering through the window, he saw two figures exit the car and look towards the house, conspicuously.

***

“I’m going to call this in,” Harlow said, reaching for her radio attached to her shoulder.

“No…don’t,” I said. “If we mention this could be where The Sparrow lives, people all across town with scanners can hear. There would be about forty police cars and about a hundred news vans. We just need to see if this is the place first.”

“At least let me call LT Anderson.”

I agreed and as we moved towards the side of the house, I turned on my flashlight, eliminating the side of the modest single-story home. The white siding hadn’t been cleaned for several years. The carport looked unused and uncared-for in some time.

We rounded the back and Harlow raised her hand.

“There,” she whispered, pointing to a small yellow car parked in the middle of the yard. Its engine was still running as it puffed out exhaust from the muffler.

Tire tracks were left stamped into the yard; whoever drove the car drove through the carport and into the backyard.

“There’s only one reason to park a car in the backyard,” I said, knowing full well Brooks wanted to hide it. “Maybe it’s best we call this thing in…like, fully.”

I drew my gun and faced the barrel to the sky and Harlow did the same. I’d only used it once in my life with Alvin Dugger, and I always hoped and prayed I would never have to use it again.

“The backdoor is unlocked,” I said as quietly as I possibly could and still be audible. Harlow grabbed the handle and twisted it slowly. It opened to a slight creak, but was virtually unnoticeable unless you were very close.

My boot was the first thing to touch the house as I pulled myself up the steps with my hands. Harlow was close behind and I held my gun in front of me with the flashlight.

The kitchen was small and cramped with a single window looking out into the backyard.

The darkness around us only added to our sense of isolation and dread, but we pushed forward.

We stopped as we heard what sounded like violins and cello’s playing in an orchestra, slowly conveying their musical message across our eardrums.

“Do you really think I can’t feel you skulking in the shadows, Detectives?” a voice called from another room.

“Brooks Ingram,” I shouted into the darkness. “Show yourself immediately!”

“I’m afraid you’ll have to try harder than that, Detective,” he mocked.

We stepped closer to the voice and turned left into what looked like a living area. New construction looked like it was halted long ago.

I wondered how long Brooks was held up there.

“People have died…the wrong died in the right way,” he continued, this time from the door directly ahead of us. “I thought by killing my father today I would be able to move on from this. Change my identity and move on bettering my life elsewhere, but I realized only moments ago that I will not be able to stop myself.”

The voice was muffled, but it wasn’t because of the door in front of us.

It sounded different…

We posted on both sides of the door and I motioned for Harlow to kick it in; we both braced for a hailstorm of bullets from the other side.

She kicked and I rushed in.

A lantern sat on a workbench next to a walkie-talkie, which I quickly walked over and picked up.

“This is why it was muffled,” I said looking at Harlow.

From behind her, a figure stuck a large knife through her shoulder blade as she cried out in pain. Falling to the floor, she grabbed helplessly and desperately towards me and bumped her head on the workbench before being knocked unconscious.

I raised my gun in the direction of the figure, but felt a zap in my left side and immediately fell to the floor. The darkness around me only came in closer and closer…

***

The world was spinning around me…

Viv was off in a distance with Craig and his successful career.

It was everything just to see her again, even with him. They were happy.

“I’m going to need you to wake up now,” a voice interrupted. “Wake up or I will slit her throat.”

I opened my eyes and Brooks was standing behind a whimpering Harlow, the wound in her shoulder bleeding profusely, spilling to the hardwood floors beneath her.

My hands were tied behind me to the chair; I could feel the pulse in my hands from how tight he had them tied.

“I’m awake,” I said, wincing at