Page 34 of Silent Ritual

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Sheila reached the bridge first, pelting across it as she raced back toward the campground. “Come on!” she shouted to Finn.

She reached the far side of the bridge, climbed a hill, and burst through a thicket, leaves and twigs snapping loudly in her wake. As she took a moment to catch her breath, she spotted their patrol car parked haphazardly in the campground's gravel lot. Finn closed in behind her, determination plastered across his weathered face.

"Keys!" he yelled as they neared the car, holding out his hand.

“No way!” she answered. “I’m driving this time!”

Finn must have realized there was no point arguing because he simply nodded, allowing Sheila to slide into the driver’s seat. She started the car and floored it, gravel crunching under the tires as they sped out of the lot.

The road was dark and winding, trees casting long, ominous shadows under the pale moonlight. The stolen ranger vehicle was nowhere in sight, but Sheila held on to the hope that they might still catch up.

Finn was on the radio now, getting updates and barking orders to every officer within range. “Suspect is driving a stolen ranger vehicle, last seen headed east out of Coldwater Campgrounds…”

“Where does this road lead?” she shouted to Finn.

"To the Mirage Salt Flats," he said, gripping the dashboard as she took a sharp turn.

That got Sheila’s attention. It made sense that the killer would return to the area where he’d committed most of his crimes. Maybe he lived nearby, or he was simply familiar with the salt flats and so he wanted to try to lose his pursuers there. Either way, though, Sheila wasn’t just going to let him slip through her fingers.

She gunned the engine, leaning forward and searching the road for a pair of brake lights. The Utah countryside whizzed by in a blur of monotone browns and greens, the endless road stretching out before them. In the distance, a faint trail of dust could be seen hovering above the road.

“There!” She pointed to the cloud of dust rising against the backdrop of night. “That’s got to be him!”

Finn nodded, his fingers tightening around the small radio. “Be advised, we have a possible confirmation…”

The road began to level out as they approached the Mirage Salt Flats, the terrain changing from bumpy forestland to vast, flat expanses of salt. The dust trail in the distance became more defined, a beacon of hope in the desolate landscape.

"Be ready," Finn warned, keeping his gaze fixated on the distant vehicle. "He might try something."

Sheila's knuckles whitened on the steering wheel as she pressed harder on the gas. The speedometer needle climbed higher.

The stolen truck suddenly swerved off the road, kicking up another cloud of dust. It sped across the open expanse of the salt flats, tires skidding in a desperate bid to escape. Sheila didn't hesitate, swerving off the road and gunning the accelerator. The car jolted across the rough terrain, but she kept her focus on the taillights ahead.

"Damn it," Finn muttered. "He's trying to lose us in the salt flats."

"We won't let him," Sheila said through gritted teeth. The stolen vehicle swerved again, kicking up more dust.

As they closed in on the truck,

Sheila squinted through the cloud of dust, and her heart stopped. The truck was headed straight for a massive sinkhole that had opened up in the middle of the flats.

“Look out!” Finn shouted.

“I see it!” she shouted back, yanking the wheel hard to the left. Tires skidded on salt and stones as they swerved away from the pit. But the stolen truck didn't slow down, barreling straight into the sinkhole.

"Oh, God," Finn whispered as they skidded to a halt at the chasm's edge. The taillights of the stolen vehicle were disappearing into the darkness below.

Sheila sat frozen, her breath hitching as she stared at the gaping sinkhole. For a moment, they could only hear the echo of rocks crumbling into the abyss, then utter silence. Dust and salt gradually settled, revealing the empty expanse of the salt flats under the cold moonlight.

Finn pulled out his flashlight and shone it into the sinkhole. "There!" He pointed into the murky gloom. Headlights shone weakly from the bottom of the pit, reflecting off salt-encrusted walls. The truck was nose down, half buried in loose soil and salt, wheels still spinning uselessly in the air.

“Dispatch,” Sheila said into her radio, her voice shaky but firm. “We have a…we have a situation. Send EMS to our location immediately. We have a vehicle down in a sinkhole on the Mirage Salt Flats.”

Finn was already unbuckling his seatbelt, pulling out his gun and flashlight as he made to exit the car. “I’m going down there,” he said.

Sheila quickly got out too, retrieving her own flashlight from the dashboard. “I’m coming with you.”

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