The Night Stalker

One Hundred and Eight

Hunter was already on the phone to Special Operations. He told them to send units out to the reporter’s home and work address. If he were sighted, he was to be stopped and taken in immediately. An APB was also put out on his registered car.

In Santa Clarita they drove up Sand Canyon Way in the direction of the hills and turned right into a small narrow road that ran another five hundred yards towards the entrance to the old St Michael’s Hospice.

‘We better come off-road somewhere around here and walk the rest of the way,’ Hunter said as they got within two hundred yards of the entrance. ‘I don’t wanna alert him that we’re coming.’

Garcia nodded and found a hidden place behind some tall trees to leave the car.

They quickly walked the rest of the way through the high vegetation and found a covered position about seventy-five yards from the derelict St Michael’s Hospice building.

It was a two-story rectangular structure covering around one thousand square feet. Most of the outside shell had crumbled, the majority of the roof had caved into the top floor, and there were clues everywhere that a large fire had taken place some time ago. At certain spots they could see right through the building. Debris was scattered all around the grounds.

‘Are you sure about this?’ Garcia asked. ‘There seems to be nothing here.’

Hunter pointed to the ground around what used to be the building’s main entrance — a series of fresh tire tracks.

‘Someone has been here recently.’

The tracks led away from the front of the building and disappeared around and towards the back — the only place where the walls seemed intact. Hunter and Garcia spent a few minutes observing from a distance, looking for surveillance cameras or any other signs of security or life. Nothing.

‘Let’s get closer,’ Hunter said.

The tire tracks stopped by a large staircase and wheelchair ramp that led down into the building’s underground floor. There were several footprints on the steps, going in both directions. They all seemed to belong to the same person.

‘Whatever’s happening here, it’s down there.’ Garcia nodded at the stairs.

Hunter pulled out his gun.

‘Only one way to find out. Are you ready for this?’

Garcia grabbed his weapon. ‘No, but let’s do it anyway.’