WHEN THE LIGHTS WENT OUT

Before I could call the dispatcher again, the lights went out.

The lamp died.

The air-conditioning display vanished.

Outside, the neon sign disappeared.

The entire motel dropped into darkness.

The girl grabbed my hand so hard her nails pressed into my skin.

Then, somewhere behind the office, an engine started.

I ran to the exterior walkway.

A dark pickup shot from behind the building and cut across the parking lot.