Chapter 1
The slap of his dress shoes hitting the pavement quickened along with his breath. As
Hector Alverez yanked on Golden Valley High School’s small blue employees-only door, the force of his pull almost sent the papers in his awkwardly held manila folder flying. Clutching at them like a newborn, he caught them, heaved a deep sigh, and stumbled through the door.
During summer break, the halls were unlit, and the main office glowed from a solitary, overhead fluorescent. The two secretaries’ desks were unoccupied. One was neat and tidy. The other looked as though a twister had hit it, leaving scattered papers, files, and paperclips in its wake. Hector’s gut sank when he saw the frosted glass windows of Principal Rodriguez’s office were black. He turned when he heard someone fumbling under an old copier machine.
“Paper’s jammed,” a loud cheerful voice rang out. “Goes to figure. I try to get some work done when I can have the copier all to myself, and the paper jams or the toner leaks or some other stupid problem.”
Hector had no clue what to say to this creature; a woman clad in blue jeans, a grey hoodie, and oversized ball cap.
“I ... I ... I have an eight a.m. appointment with Principal...” he petered out. Her unexpected presence threw off his concentration.
“He’ll be back any minute, honey. Rodriguez came in a little bit ago and turned right around. Said he had left somethin’ at home. He told me to tell anyone lookin’ for him he’d be back in twenty. Then my paper jammed, and I’ve been fiddlin’ with this darn machine ever since.” She pulled out a piece of crumpled paper and presented it as evidence to Hector.
2
Tall Willows
“Will you gimme a hand, honey,” she continued, “since you have to wait anyways? There’s a box of colored copy paper in the storage closet. Trouble is, the lights don’t work too good and when the door shuts, it goes pitch black in there. If you hold the door for me, I might be able to make some copies before the morning’s over.”
Hector didn’t want to help, but she grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the door. “I need to wait for Principal Rodriguez,” he said.
“We’ll be done before he gets back,” she said, “the closet’s just down the hall.” Hector distractedly dropped his thick manila folder on the nearest desk before she
whisked him out the door.
She led him down the dim, locker-lined corridors of the old high school. They turned a
corner and entered a newer and brighter addition that offered a picturesque view of the Southern Colorado Rockies through oversized double glass doors. The school’s football, baseball, and track fields stretched out until they touched the majestic mountains.
Hector paused in front of the doors to admire the beautiful scenery. He realized he had gone over the school’s budget with a fine-toothed comb but couldn’t recall spending reports for the athletics department. More money went to sports than math, art and, music combined. It wouldn’t be surprising if Coach Wayne got greedy, felt like he deserved a little more than everyone else. Wayne would be the first person Hector looked into after he met with Rodriguez.
Hector looked at his watch, eight-O-five, now he was late for his meeting. “I have to go. I must speak with Principal Rodriguez.”
From the stairwell, the woman called as she glided up the stairs, “The closet’s just up here, honey. Besides, I don’t see his car in the parking lot yet.”
She was right. The principal’s parking spot in the lot below remained empty.
3
by PCFeather
Tall Willows
“If you just hold this door for me, you can be on your way, and I won’t bother you anymore,” She called down from the top of the stairs.
Hector climbed the stairs and joined her outside a door. Black painted letters on it said DARKROOM.
“It’s just storage now,” she chattered. “The box of colored paper is on a shelf in the back. I’ll hold the door open, and you grab it for me.” She stood firm by the door, not moving to go inside.
Hector decided to get the paper so he could get back to the office and on with his meeting. His hand patted the wall for a light switch. He flicked it on. Only a dim red glow emanated from the back of the closet. He flicked the adjacent switch, and a florescent weakly flickered. Hector shuffled through the small cramped closet. He only saw old camera equipment and film developing chemicals.
“Ma’am, I don’t see a box of paper,” he called to her.
“I know it’s in there! Check under the shelf!” she demanded, her voice taking on a distinct edge.
He didn’t have time to protest. The lights went out; the door clicked shut, and the sudden darkness blinded him. He assumed he was alone in the pitch-black closet when the red light flicked on. A bright flash produced an ear-splitting sound. His thigh burned in intense pain. He grabbed his leg; it was warm and wet. What the... His mind raced. Is this... blood? Hector didn’t have time to form another thought before the second bullet penetrated his skull.
