Halloween IV: The Ultimate Edition by Nicholas

around.
    Praise the Lord , he mouthed, and found a nice spot on the other side of a garbage dumpster with a perfectly hidden view of the police station’s front door. He parked, switched off his engine.
    And he waited.
    Perhaps it would be a long wait, but to face the Apocalypse, challenge it, defeat it, the wait would be worth it. Loomis would lead him to it.
    And besides, there was plenty of whiskey to tide him over until then.
                 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Fourteen
    The Haddonfield Sheriff’s Department wasn’t as large as it appeared to be on the outside. It was housed in a one-story beige building with a medium sized parking lot accented with dozens of rows of junipers and a flower bed shared in part by the Haddonfield Public Library next door.
    There was no such thing as sophistication when it came to a small town like Haddonfield, and small towns have small police forces. Of course, if anything unusual occurred, other departments would be notified, firstly the state police. But nothing unusual ever happened. For the most part.
    The inside of the building was as bland as the outside, displaying such average sights as a copy machine (which was out of order for the time being, the employees having to go to the library next door for copies), bulletin boards, a gun rack situated near the back wall, a water cooler expecting a refill, desks and phones and a dart board near the back between the time clock and the single restroom. To complete the atmosphere, there was a threesome of deputies behind the desks, one of which was conversing with his wife over the telephone---something about a hamster and a liquid cleanser and how a girl named Marsha should be spanked.
    At the front desk, the deputy was occupying his own time by reading his favorite section from Reader’s Digest , chuckling at the humorous anecdotes.
    Suddenly, his attentions were distracted by a man who stormed into the building through the front glass double doors. The fellow appeared to be quite flustered, serious determined, and immediately the deputy knew that this was definitely going to be one of those nights . The balding man, wearing a dark overcoat and a dusty outfit beneath, marched directly up to his desk.
    “I need to see Sheriff Bracket,” Doctor Loomis demanded.
    The deputy set the open magazine face down on the green blotter before him, leaned back casually in his seat, and gave a hearty laugh. Of course, this guy couldn’t be serious .
    He told the man, “Then you need to travel ‘bout three thousand miles south’a here.”
    Loomis was suddenly confused. “What?”
    “Brackett retired in ‘81,” the deputy informed him. “Up and moves to St. Petersburg. We get a postcard every Christmas.”
    “ Well, who the hell is the new sheriff?”
    “I am,” spoke another voice. “Ben Meeker.”
    The doctor’s gaze shot beyond the deputy and saw a husky, solid two-hundred-pound sheriff standing to the man’s left. He had inquisitive yet hardened brown eyes and a brown crew cut, and by the look of his heightened stature he appeared to be over six feet tall. If people were cartoon animals, this man would have been a grizzly bear.
    The doctor wasted no time. “Sheriff Meeker, My name’s…..”
    “Loomis,” Meeker finished for him. His voice was deep and commanding. “Folks around here aren’t likely to forget your face. At least, not cops. What the hell brings you back here after ten years?”
    He sounded resentful, but there was something within his tone that the doctor detected as weariness. “Michael Myers,” he told him. “He’s escaped Ridgemont. He’s here in Haddonfield.”
    “That’s impossible,” Meeker said. “He’s supposed to be an invalid.”
    But there was this seriousness in his eyes. “He’s here , Sheriff.”
    Meeker was the kind of sheriff who was known for possessing a very deep sense of humor. Deep ,