Nicky slowed the car down, trying to see what Ken was pointing at. Then she saw.
The old trailer sat perched on a small knoll, its walls tattered and stained. The roof was missing large chunks where a tree branch had smashed through it. The branches and leaves had tangled up in the broken window panes, obscuring the view inside. The surrounding trees created a natural canopy, shielding the trailer from the sun and the rain. The scent of rain and earth and wood was strong in the air.
Nicky drove the car up to the front door, which was hanging off its hinges.
She parked the car, and they both got out.
"Looks like nobody's been here for a while," Ken said.
Nicky sidled up to him. "Then let's be quiet, okay? The file said the husband still lives here."
"Right," he said, and drew his gun.
They went around back. Nicky saw a rickety old porch and a sliding screen door. A pair of muddy sneakers sat on the floor, and Nicky saw a can of beans sitting on a counter.
Ken pointed to the screen. "You think we should knock or...?"
Nicky nodded. They went out front and knocked on the old, falling apart door. But it just fell right open.
Nicky peered inside. If the outside of the trailer hadn't been unsettling, Nicky would have thought the inside would be in better condition. The living room was a mess: garbage and garbage bags and empty bottles were scattered around the room, and the wood floors were covered in dirt and dead bugs.
"There's no way someone lives here," Ken said.
"We saw the muddy boots," Nicky replied. "He lives here. Maybe he's just out."
Nicky thought on it. Maybe they should go inside. But that was the last place Nicky wanted to enter.
Suddenly, there was a loud noise, like glass shattering. They turned to see that one of the windows of the trailer had been shattered. Bits of glass littered the ground around it, and a jagged piece of the window frame was sticking out. The sound of shattering glass echoed through the forest, like a cry for help. It was like a death knell.
And from inside, the barrel of a shotgun pointed out.
Nicky didn't think--she just dove for cover.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
A gunshot went off and resounded through the air, piercing Ken's ears.
He watched as Nicky's lithe frame expertly dodged out of the way. The shotgun blast went straight through the trailer's deck, sending wood flying everywhere. He knew, at that moment, this was about to get real.
Ken was at the side of the trailer now. With his gun pointed up, his heart pounding, he pressed his back to the wall. If he peeked too soon, he could get a shotgun blast to the face, and it’d be goodbye to his life. The idea of dying out here, in a horrible place like this, made his stomach roll.Not gonna happen.
He needed to stay calm. Be careful. Not get killed himself. And also not let his partner get killed.
In the corner of his eye, he saw Nicky rising from the ground. She had her gun out too. They exchanged a nod, and Nicky gestured to the back of the trailer.
"I can try to get in the back," she whispered, "if you can keep him distracted and get him talking."
Ken gave her another nod. It was a good enough plan, and he had experience talking psychos off ledges. With that, Nicky took off. Ken swallowed hard, then turned to where the shotgun was pointing.
"Hey, you in there!" His voice came out in a hoarse growl.
"What?" said a voice from inside the trailer. A small, angry, male voice.
"We’re just here to talk, okay?” Ken said. "Why don’t you put your weapon down and come out, and we can sort out our options here. How’s that sound, bud? No need for anyone to get hurt.”
There was a long pause. Somewhere in the forest, a bird squawked. "What are you doing here?" came the voice again. "This is private property."
"You're right. We're sorry to bother you," Ken said. “We just need to have a conversation, that’s all, man.”