Page 38 of When You're Broken
Suddenly, she stiffened.“Wait!”she hissed, pressing a hand to his arm.“Stop the car.”
Adrenaline spiked in Finn.He braked, scanning the road for hazards.“What’s wrong?”
She jerked her chin to the left.“Kill the engine, quickly.”
Heart pounding, Finn flicked off the ignition, letting the headlights die.The car settled into darkness.The faint whistle of wind breezed past.He turned to Amelia, voice a tense whisper.“Amelia, what is it?”
She pointed through the passenger window.His gaze followed her fingertip to a squat building overshadowed by a massive oak tree.Moonlight glinted on boards hammered across the windows.A battered sign hung crookedly above the door, partially hidden by ivy.POLICEwas faintly visible in chipped paint.
“It looks like an old station,” Finn said, brow furrowing.Indeed, it had the shape of a small police station from decades ago—two stories tall, a squat annex to one side.The entire front door had boards nailed in a haphazard pattern, though a couple had peeled away, revealing darkness within.
She nodded, voice hushed with a fervent edge.“Yes, an abandoned police station.Think about Wendell.He escaped from prison to punish those he hates, those with authority.He murdered the prison guard Shankland’s sister and tied her to the underside of a train.It was Shankland who put him on a train when he was being transferred! Kelvin Street, an ex-cop who wrote about his family and his mother in ways he hated.He glued his hands to a typewriter before killing him.And Rob… Next, he wants to break me, the cop that put him away, by killing my brother.”
Finn’s eyes widened as realization dawned.“So you think… he might have chosen this place?An old precinct?”
“Yes,” she said, adrenaline lacing her tone.“It would fit his sadistic idea of punishing authority.Killing me or my brother in a place that symbolizes law enforcement.It’s precisely the dramatic irony he’d want.”
Finn’s gut tightened at the logic.“Then we should check it out.But are we certain he’s inside?Because we should maybe call it in.”
She swallowed.“No.It’s a hunch.I don’t want McNeill to have a field day, have me stripped of my place in the police over a hunch that might not play out.Wendell… He’s cunning, but also enjoys mocking his victims.This is the kind of statement he’d want to make.”She carefully opened her car door, motioning for Finn to do the same.“Come on.Let’s at least see if there’s sign of life.”
He complied, stepping out into the chilly air.The road was empty behind them; no passing headlights, no prying eyes.They inched closer to the old station, the boards across the windows creaking in the mild wind.The structure seemed mostly intact, unlike the battered buildings in Longwood.A half-rusted chain lay limp across the front door handle, but some nails had come loose from the plywood, leaving a gap.
Amelia crouched near a side window, which had a large board leaning askew.She pressed a gloved hand against it and felt it shift.She looked back at Finn, excitement and fear warring in her eyes.“This is loose.If we slip inside quietly—”
From beyond the boards, a faint scrape echoed, like someone shifting a foot or dragging something across the floor.It was fleeting, but enough to make the hairs on Finn’s neck stand up.
Amelia’s voice dropped to a whisper.“It’s him.I know it.Or someone.We have to check.”
Finn’s heart thundered, but he nodded, speaking in hushed tones.“Let’s do it carefully.It could just be a squatter.”He pulled his flashlight from his coat pocket, flicked it on, and aimed it at the gap.The beam lit a swirl of dust motes.Amelia slid the board aside with quiet determination.The old nails groaned, but gave way.
She exhaled, steeling herself.“Wendell might have my brother in there.I’m not waiting any longer.”
With that, she hoisted herself through the gap, boots scraping the interior floor.Finn braced the board so it wouldn’t slam shut, then followed, adrenaline surging.Darkness enveloped them, the air stale and claustrophobic.
The moment his feet touched the floor inside, he heard Amelia’s quickening breath.She pivoted, flashlight raised, scanning a corridor that presumably led deeper into the station.“This place is a labyrinth,” she whispered.
Finn nodded, pulse hammering.He closed the board behind them, sealing out the cold night wind.No turning back now.They stood in the gloom, only their flashlight beams to guide them through corridors that once served law enforcement but now served only shadows.
And with that, they pressed on, determined to face whatever Wendell had waiting in the darkness.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Finn moved as quietly as he could along the scuffed linoleum floor of the abandoned police station.His own breathing sounded embarrassingly loud to his ears, echoing in the deep hush that cloaked the corridors.In the weak glow of the flashlight he clutched, he saw where chipped paint curled from the walls, revealing water-stained plaster beneath.The entire place reeked of mold and disuse—a sad testament to a past era of law enforcement that had long since lost relevance.
A step behind him came Amelia, the beam of her own flashlight dancing around the corners.There on the floor was what looked like a piece of freshly cut rope.There was blood on it.She paused abruptly, tension lining her posture.“That’s enough for me,” she whispered, phone in hand.“I need to do something.”
Finn watched her bring up her messaging app, tapping quickly.The faint blue glow lit her face in stark relief, highlighting the set of her jaw and the determination in her eyes.
“You’re texting McNeill?”Finn guessed softly, trying not to let his apprehension creep into his tone.
She nodded.“And Clint.I think we risk it.I can feel I’m right!If they’ve any sense, they’ll come.If I’m wrong about Wendell hiding here, well…” She let out a tiny, humorless laugh.“McNeill will be furious, but I’m past caring.I can’t not warn them, now.”
Finn exhaled, glancing around the hallway.Every shadow hinted at possible danger; every shift of the rotting structure threatened to make a noise that would give them away.“It’s risky, but I get it.If we stumble onto Wendell alone…” He let the thought fade.“All right.Just don’t forget we’re not exactly supposed to be out on our own.”
Amelia slid her phone back into her jacket pocket, ignoring the faint beep that signaled the message had been sent.“I know.But I’m not waiting like a lamb.”She flicked her flashlight at the gloom ahead.
They pressed on, stepping around the remains of a toppled metal filing cabinet half-blocking the corridor.One door on their left hung crookedly from its frame, the word “Reception” visible in peeling letters.Past it, a bigger space yawned—a defunct waiting area, perhaps.Broken chairs lay in a jumbled heap.Graffiti sprawled over the walls in neon paint, giving the place a surreal note.The faint stench of stale urine met Finn’s nostrils, making him grimace.
