Light Sleepers

By Chelsea Sands

Christine is a young reporter investigating the case of her childhood friend who had gone missing over a decade earlier. She goes to her now abandoned home and notices strange markings around the dwelling. She soon meets an old homeless man who leads her into an abandoned part of town and gives her a choice...he can make up a story that will give her the scoop of a lifetime or she can find out what really happened to her friend....

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trellis Publishing
• Release date: Jul 10, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201379360

Book preview

LIGHT SLEEPERS

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CHELSEA SANDS

TABLE OF CONTENTS

LIGHT SLEEPERS

THE VIDEO

Christine glanced at the clock in the right hand corner of her monitor, silently pleading with her fingers to type faster as the clock turned 9:01 AM. Her meeting began in precisely four minutes and the cacophony of ringing phones, clicking keyboards and inane chatter seeped into her head, causing her thoughts to freeze mid-sentence.

No, she whispered to herself, wiggling her fingers over the keyboard. She could practically visualize what she had been thinking in her head melt away into a myriad of letters that no longer made any sense.

She had four minutes to meet her deadline and her brain was a complete blank. Her fingers stabbed at the keys with finality as she hashed out a final paragraph and emailed it to Keith, the assistant editor.

By the time he returned to his cubicle from the meeting, it would look like she hadn’t scrambled at all.

Two minutes later, Christine sank into an office chair in a large rectangular room. One wall was entirely made of glass, so she could see her colleagues scurrying about the newsroom. They reminded her of ants, bustling about an ant colony.

A man with thinning gray hair slowly rose up at the head of the table and clapped his hands together. Alright people! he bellowed. It’s a new week, and we all know what that means...

An assortment of grumbles and murmurs emanated from the twenty people who sat along the large oak table, fidgeting with pen caps and their suit jackets as they did so. Christine smiled a little as she watched Steven, the Editor in Chief, ignore their remarks.

Pitches. Let’s hear them! Steven insisted, and slowly sat back down in his black leather chair.

Christine had become a part of the team at the Holly Herald two months prior, but she still hadn’t managed to get used to the fact that she was now a full fledged journalist, working for an online news company. Everyone around her sank deep into their chairs, well accustomed to the routine of journalism, but Christine still saw and experienced everything as if it were Christmas morning and she had received everything she had ever wanted.

She was only twenty-five after all. Half of the people who had graduated with her at the University of Tennessee still lived in their parents’ basements for crying out loud.

Steven pointed to each person and let them pitch new articles and story ideas. Christine divided her time between practicing her own pitch and listening to those of her colleagues so she wouldn’t repeat anything they said. It was the most stressful part of her week, but she couldn’t help but revel in how mature the entire process made her feel.

She hunched over a notebook, scribbling down notes when the name Danica Lennox was mentioned from someone across the room.

Christine’s pen dropped with a soft clink against the table as she felt her heart take a sharp dive into her stomach. It took several seconds for her ears to start working again as she felt her hands suddenly grow damp with sweat.

...It’s located somewhere in...Alabama? But I think it’s interesting that someone could go missing in such a small town. Think of it as a snapshot on modern day small town living, and how the community is affected when everyone knows everyone, Drew, a fellow journalist, concluded, lacing his hands together in front of him on the table. His shoulders sank a few inches with visible relief. His pitch was finished.

Steven opened his mouth to respond but suddenly Christine found herself standing up from her chair, her green eyes wide and questioning as she stared at Drew across the table.

Danica? she said, barely above a whisper. Danica Lennox of Fairhope?

Drew frowned and glanced back down at the scribbles of handwritten notes he had laid out in front of him. Uh... Yes, Fairhope, Alabama. His tone was guarded and questioning.

Christine could feel her stomach churn like a rotisserie chicken in her gut. It wasn’t just a case of a duplicate name, then. How many Danica’s could there be in a small town like Fairhope?

I-I know her, Christine said, shifting her gaze to look at the Editor in Chief. She grew up down the street from me. She was my friend.

Heat ran from Christine’s toes to settle on the apples of her cheeks. It sounded so lame, so inconsequential to say the words aloud, but nevertheless they were true. Danica had been her friend. And now Danica was missing.

Christine looked helplessly at Steven while the Editor in Chief looked back. He seemed to be assessing her with his steely gaze. After a moment or so, he snapped his fingers and turned to look at Drew.

Drew, this story is now Christine’s. Meet with me after the staff meeting to discuss another pitch. He spoke with such finality that Drew could only nod his head and swallow. Arguing was futile.

Steven slowly turned his gaze back at Holly Herald’s newest