Night Riders of the Avendale Valley.

Chapter 1

Once, not too long ago in Avendale Valley, there lived an avid vegetable dealer named Carl Donavan. Carl was not the average produce guy, for he only worked at night delivering his fresh produce in the darkest hours of the night. The delivery truck that he used was jet black in color and used special lights that were barely visible at night. There was suspicion that a drug ring might be involved.

This is where I come in. I am special operations agent, Rob Adams, I work with the local Avendale Valley police and I’ve been assigned to tail this guy for a few nights, just to follow him around, check on his “produce” to see if there was anything going on that the Feds should know about. I had a feeling that this wasn’t your average produce guy. My instinct was soon put to the test.

Fist night, everything was normal. I cautiously made my way about a quarter mile be hind his truck, trying to maintain a safe distance, yet still be able to make out his dark box truck. Carl made several stops on his route before coming upon an abandoned shack just off of highway 13, out near Browningvill Cemetery. I watched him get out of his truck, with no produce, or anything else visible, with him. He then entered the shack and about an hour later, he came out. This was his routine for the next several nights, until he changed it up a little by heading to a nightclub instead of the shack.

Upon leaving the nightclub a few minutes later, he had a young girl, no more than 18, following close behind him, out into the van. This is when he resumed his normal routine of going to the abandoned shack. An hour later, only he comes out.

I call for back up. When he’s gone, I go in, gun drawn, and I find no one. I hear a dull thud, so I look around and I discover a trap door in a back room that leads to a cellar. I descend into the depths of the dark pit and I check my pockets for a flashlight. I pull out my Maglite and sweep it around a little. I come across a dark sack that looks like there’s someone inside, so I quickly pull out my pocket knife, and try to cut it open as the figure inside struggles with me. “its ok, I’m here to help.” I reassure the bound person, and with that, I remove the sack and I see the same young girl from the club.

I ask if she’s ok, and she says that she feels a little woozy, and also that her neck hurts. I check her neck, and I see two little cuts in her skin, and she appears to be bleeding, but in this lighting, it’ hard to tell if she’s still bleeding or not.

When back up arrives, we take her down to the station, for some brief questioning, then right to the hospital. The girl told us that she had gone with the guy because he had promised to take her to a place far better that the club, but when the arrived at the shack, he told her that he just needed to pick up a few things first, and asked if she could help him. She went inside with him and the next thing she knew, he was breathing down her neck, then she felt extreme pain, and the next thing she remembered was being found in the sack.