The Cold-Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Back at the cemetary, officer Harley and two other cops were examining the old shack where the three teens had been
the night before. Harley and one of the cope were inside the shack with flashlights, while the other cop was standing
guard just outside the enterence. "What a piece o' junk," said Harley, refering to the shack and it's condition. The
other cop inside nodded silently. "Buildings like this," Harley continued, "If you can call this a building, should be
condemned by the city. Torn down if you ask me. It's an eye sore!"
"Yes, sir," said the other cop. "If I may ask, what do you suppose this building, er, I mean shack, was for?" Harl-
ey had been wondering the same thing. "It might have been some kind of shelter for the grave diggers from a century
ago, who knows. There are all sorts of rumors that surround this old cemetary. It goes back hundreds of years." Just
then, their conversation was cut short when the other cop turned his flashlight downwards suddenly. "What is it?" Asked
Harley, "Found something?" The other cop bent down to take a closer look on the old wooden floor boards. Something
shiny had caught his eye. He strained his eyes to see what that object was. It the dim light, he saw that it was a
small silver key. In the flashlight's glow, he could see at the end of the key was a skull engraved into it. The cop
pulled at small plastic ziploc bag from his pocket and opened it. With a rubber gloved hand, he picked up the key and
placed it inside the plastic ziploc and then sealed it.
"There you go, sir," said the cop, handing the evidence to Harley. "That might be important." Officer Harley held
his own flashlight up to the plastic bag with the mysterious key inside. He remembered the note that Hank had written
for him. His story was actually starting to make sense now. Hadn't the note said something about a key? "Stay here
and keep looking," said Harley to the other cop. "And good work, Simon. I'll just be outside. Call if you need any-
thing." With that, Harley exited the old shack. Back outside, he met Tom, the second cop who had accompanied them to
the cemetary. "Find something, David?" asked Tom, eyeing the plastic bag in Harley's hand.
"Not much," said Harley. "It's just a small silver key. Maybe it's a key to this old shack from eons past." Tom
nodded but remained silent. Officer Harley took the key over to his car, putting it in the truck and locking it up
tight. Suddenly, a terrible scream filled the air. Officer Harley spun to see what was going on and rushed back over
to the shack where Tom was still standing guard.
"I think its Simon, sir!" shouted Tom, fear showing in his eyes. The two officers quickly entered the old shack.
What they found was horrifying. There lay Simon, obviously dead. His arms and legs were gone as well, and blood was
everywhere. "Get out, now!" shouted Harley. "Call for back up, Tom. Move!" With the order given, Tom exited
the shack, gagging as he went. Officer Harley just stared at the body his old buddy, Simon. "What the Hell is going
on around here?" he muttered. He glanced about the dark interior of the shack. Who ever had killed Simon was now long
gone. Officer Harley turned on his flashlight again, and was surprised to find no footprints near the body. There
was no sign that anyone had even been there.
Officer Harley started looking around inside, shining his flashlight around the decrepid old shack. It appeared
there was only one enterence/exit. Other than the small fire pit at the center of the shack, there wasn't much else
inside. He noticed an empty glass bottle of apple cider laying in one corner. He carefully picked it up for examin-
ation. The small of the body had become noticable, and he had to step out of the shack for some fresh air. As he did,
he heard the distant sound of sirens. A few moments later, three more police cars and an ambulance drove up, lights
flashing.
Tom was back with two other cops, an older officer named Freddy and a young black female officer, Cindy. The two
paramedics from the ambulance also ran up to Officer Harley. "What's the situation, officer?" asked one of the para-
medics. Harley sighed sadly. "Simon is...dead" he said, matter of factly. "He was one of my best men. And a great
friend." He motioned towards the old shack. "In there," he said, "But be forwarned. It's hard to look at."