Rear Window Novels & Stories

Then he could make up one story or the other about the pickup driver. The moment he ignited the engine, three black SUVs outlined themselves in his rear mirror. He looked backwards through his hind glass and confirmed that there were indeed three black SUVs closing in on him. He couldn't begin to decipher which of his fears was becoming a reality. Whichever side these vehicles came from, he wasn't going to let them get to him.

He climbed into the driver's seat. I climbed into the passenger seat. The interior was luxurious. It was sterile. It was military grade. "We leave now," Rian commanded. He reached for the ignition. Suddenly, a loud, metallic sound echoed from the rear of the vehicle. Rian stopped. His hand hovered over the start button. His eyes went wide. "It is a containment cell," Rian stated. "The back is a holding unit for high-value targets." He looked into the rearview mirror. He saw a flash of silver chain through the partition window.

I said, my voice sounding distant. I stepped out of the car to inspect the damage. His eyes kept darting back to the other car. I looked toward the back seat of the sedan and noticed the windows were tinted so dark they were like obsidian. Even though I couldn't see anything, I had this prickly feeling on the back of my neck, like someone was counting the seconds it took for me to move. "Mrs. Winchester?" the driver prompted, his voice tight. He knew who I was.

As the vehicle pulls away through the gates, I watch Raelin's figure grow smaller and smaller through the back rear windscreen of the car until he is swallowed up by the enormous distance momentarily separating us. For now.

Things are very bad. A bullet pings off the fucking plastic behind the back row of seats. No shit, Sherlock. I whip into another turn and risk a glance in the rearview mirror. The SUV has a tinted windshield. I can’t see anything but the gun now hanging out of the passenger’s side window and the gloved hand holding it.

Autumn pushed lightly against Keith’s chest. “You can talk without getting this close. It tickles.” “Don’t move,” Keith warned, narrowing his eyes. “Otherwise, I can’t promise I won’t do something about it.” The car windows were tinted, clear from the inside but opaque from the outside. People passed by in the busy lot, unaware of what was happening within. From the front seat, the view of the back was blocked entirely, and through the windshield, nothing could be seen unless someone deliberately looked.

Up front, a thick, mesh iron partition separated the driver and front passenger seats from the back cabin, designed for privacy, so whoever sat in the front couldn't easily see or hear what was happening in the wide leather seats behind them. My mother happily slid into the front passenger seat next to George, who took the wheel with a stormy, frustrated expression on his face. I climbed into the spacious back cabin, sliding all the way to the far corner near the window. A second later, the rear door opened, and Julian slid in right beside me. He smelled like expensive cologne, wearing a casual fitted polo that stretched over his broad chest. George started the engine, pulling out of the dri

He glanced at the rear seats, then back at me. "The tracking array on this vehicle is cycling its encryption codes for the next ten minutes. We have a dark window. I’ll check the perimeter." He stepped out of the car, slamming the heavy door behind him, his tall, dark silhouette vanishing into the misty grey dawn. The silence inside the cabin became absolute, save for a low, pathetic groan that suddenly echoed from the rear cargo space.

Just a dead-weight silhouette squatting against the curb. ​I freeze. The air in my lungs feels crystallized. ​My breath doesn't fog the glass anymore; the cabin is too cold, equalized with the dead air outside. I stare through my windshield, centering the black sedan in the lower-left quadrant of my wiper blade arc. ​Standard municipal parking? No. No residential permit sticker glints on the rear bumper. The rear window has a factory tint dark enough to swallow a flashlight beam. ​I trace the line of the roof. Low profile. Heavy rear suspension sag armored door panels, or a heavy boot in the back, or two dead weight shifts sitting low in the dark of the cabin.