A Ripple In Time

The house was in a secluded section of the town, cloaked with a never-ending stretch of trees and no nearby neighbors to come to Azalea’s rescue if she did scream. To put a cherry on top of the situation, there was a white van parked outside in the driveway. “Creeper to the max,” Ryder commented, sliding out from the backseat. “It looks like a fucking serial killer lives here.” “I second that. Poster house for a creep,” Jace added. “Neither of you two are helping me ease my nerves,” I snapped, slamming the car door shut harder than intended. A flock of birds exploded from the trees nearby and scattered into the sky. The aftermath of the car door’s thud and the squawking birds echoed throughout the space. If Azalea was in that house, no doubt she would have heard us by now. “So much for being subtle,” Jace muttered. I shot him a death-glare, switching my rifle from one hand to the other, then stalked toward the house. “Good luck to any fucker trying to outrun us.” “Or try shooting at us