Chapter 2: The Long Drive
Miles away at the county sheriff's department, Sheriff David Miller was knee-deep in paperwork, reviewing budget reports for the upcoming quarter. When his desk phone rang, he picked it up with a practiced, steady rhythm.
Then he heard those four words.
The blood instantly drained from David's face. The weary, paperwork-burdened lawman vanished in a fraction of a second, replaced by a father whose worst nightmare had just materialized. He didn't hear the background noise on the line—the muffled giggles, the heavy breathing—he only heard the terror in his daughter's voice.
"Chloe? Honey, talk to me. Where are you?" David demanded, his voice dropping into a tone that made every deputy in the precinct stop typing and look up.
"The... the practice field," Chloe whispered, her voice breaking. "Jason... he..."
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"I'm on my way," David interrupted, his voice an absolute steel cable. "Don't move. Dad is coming."
He slammed the receiver down, grabbed his heavy leather duty belt, and bolted from his office. As he vaulted into his black-and-white cruiser, his radio crackled to life. He didn't wait for backup to volunteer; he dispatched every available unit within a five-mile radius of Oakley High with one order: Code three, immediate response.
