A science-fiction murder mystery
By Evelyne Martin
This is it. The thought that this time she’d succeed with the murder was sending adrenaline through the woman’s body. She shivered as if a cold breeze was touching her. She had tried twice before. Once by cutting the break line of her victim’s car, but he had managed to plow into a field and was stopped by hay bales. The second time, he escaped the poison she had managed to put into his coffee, thanks to an excited dog that jumped up on him and knocked the cup out of his hands.
“There will be no escape for you now,” she whispered. She had planned it meticulously. Her victim was parked across from his home on Night Sky Lane, so he didn’t have to turn around to head toward East Mescalero Road and to work. She was laying in wait behind the curve in an old white van she had stolen. “There you are.” The man she was waiting for was dressed in jeans and a checkered shirt when he walked out of the house. She turned the key and the van started with a weird metallic noise. Fearfully she looked up to see if the man had heard her. He had turned around and pulled the door to his home close while looking at his smart phone. Not paying any attention to his surroundings, he continued looking at the phone, walking slowly toward the curb. Relieved that he hadn’t noticed the sound, she slowly drove around the corner. There was nobody else on the road at this hour, her body’s shiver had turned to nausea and she felt herself shaking.
The man stepped on the road starting to cross it. Gripping the steering wheel tightly she put her foot on the gas pedal all the way down. The van jumped and tires screeched before roaring toward the man who stopped in the center, finally looked up from his phone and freezing. For one second their eyes met and she thought there was recognition in his before she hit him head on. Red, there was so much red and then he was gone. She sped off, but not before taking a last look into the back mirror. His crumbled body had been thrown from the street several feet onto his neighbor’s lawn. She saw a boy and a woman running out of her victim’s home, just before she turned west on East Mescalero Road. A small smile pulled at her lips. Nausea and shivers were gone. “Time to ditch the van and pretend that nothing happened,” she said to herself.
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Six months later.
Will sat alone in the dark South Park Cemetery, tears he had held in for too long were pouring down his cheeks while he was looking at the headstone that carried the name of his father. His nine siblings and his mother were so busy with “moving on” and returning to their lives that they hadn’t paid attention when he grabbed his bicycle and left. It seemed to have been only yesterday that his dad’s life had been snuffed out in a hit-and-run accident. The driver was never found. Ever since, Will felt like his soul had been ripped to shreds. He was the youngest kid, having just had his 16th birthday, which everybody forgot, which — for the first time — he was glad for.
The tears were coming faster and faster, but he made no sound. He missed his father so much. They had been close, Will being the only one of the kids that inherited his dad’s bright green eyes and light brown hair. But it was not only physical resemblance they had in common. His dad and Will shared a secret, a talent really. The wildest animals became as tame as pets as soon as he came close. His dad had worked as an assistant for Doc Peterson, one of the local veterinarians, and asked Will to help out now and then. This life was now over.
Will wiped the tears from his eyes and stood up. Time to go home.
To be continued.
Evelyne Martin is originally from Toronto, Canada. As an Army brat, she said she traveled all over the world. In 2004 she finally settled down with her cocker spaniel and several horses on a small ranch between Albuquerque and Jemez Springs. Martin has worked for other authors as a copy editor and as a ghost-writer in England, Ireland and the U.S. This mystery story about five Roswell teenagers was inspired by her visits during the UFO Festival, which she never misses since she moved to New Mexico. For more information, visit her Facebook page @EvelyneMartinAuthor.