1
It was a night fit for monsters.
The wind whipped icy blasts beneath Jessie’s jacket as the hospital doors swished shut behind her. She looked up at the clouds, scudding across a moon one night from full, and shivered.
Effing hell.The weather forecast had convinced her it would be a great day to ride her bike to work. It was sketchy enough riding it through the shadowy streets at midnight when clear, but a nasty spring storm would make her trip home particularly unpleasant.
She took a deep breath and focused on the positives. Her most recent download was a guide about appreciating the little things in life. It was an admirable goal. Riding against the wind would be a real workout and help her release the stress of a long ER shift.
Good. That was good. The book was already helping her.
The clouds spat rain. She quickly unlocked her bicycle and tucked stray strands of her hair inside her hood before swinging aboard. She rode past a few other shift workers walking to their cars in the lot.
As soon as she darted across the quiet front street and headed down the side road, the darkness closed in. Jessie wore a reflective vest, and her bike had lights on the front and back. Despite her precautions, at this time of the night she stuck to the sidewalk rather than risk the road. She stood on the pedals, ducking her head into the wind and rain. At least her bike had fenders. Her butt was wet enough without the spray kicking up off the tires.
A white van drove past, slowing as it neared. Her heart gave a kick. She was all alone out here. But after a moment, it accelerated away.
False alarm. Maybe they were wondering why she was racing along the sidewalk so early in the morning.
A huge gust crackled the branches above and almost brought her bike to a standstill. She gritted her teeth and stood up again. Workout indeed. The houses she passed sat dark and silent. The trees that arched overhead thrashed in the wind as her tires bumped over the cracks in the pavement.
She caught movement out of the corner of her left eye.
Jessie turned to look that way. Mature shrubs and trees softened the house outlines. The shadows were in motion, the wind-tossed leaves making them dance in the fickle moonlight. It was impossible to discern anything. But the sensation of something pacing along with her persisted. Was a dog following her?
Then the white van returned.
It rolled through the stop sign at the corner and approached at stalker-type speed.
The fine hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. She acted instinctively and ducked between two parked cars, darted across the road, and up a back lane.
As she disappeared between the garages, she glanced back over her shoulder.
Effing hell.The van had stopped.
Adrenaline flooded her. She rammed her feet down on the pedals, sending the bike flying between potholes. Her mind raced ahead. She’d pedalled every back lane in this area and knew most of the houses well. There—she braked and dove right through a backyard, along the narrow strip between houses, and to the deserted front street. She kept going, across the road, up the sidewalk, then down another back lane.
She blinked rain from her eyes and scanned behind her. No white van. Had she lost them? Who were they? Maybe it had just been a coincidence. Yet, it sure seemed like the van had been stalking her.
Her usual route home was along peaceful, residential streets. Now, they were far too quiet. She needed to angle toward the retail and commercial area. The stores would be closed, but the streets would be busier, even at this time.
Jessie glanced back again.
Something huge bounded across the lane. Black, and on four legs. It leaped the fence and disappeared into a yard.
What the hell was that? Jessie almost wobbled into a garage wall. Dog. Had to be a dog. But it had been the size of an effing bear.
And it now lurked in a yard to her right.
The lane continued, merging onto a double-lane street. Jessie put every ounce of her panic into pedalling. She didn’t think she’d ever gotten this bike going so fast. The lights ran off tire friction, and she needed every bit of speed she could get. She reached down and flicked the generator away from the wheel.
The difference was infinitesimal, yet obvious.
Headlights shone on the four-lane street ahead of her. Traverse Avenue would take her where she needed to go. Her bike shot out of the lane and across the oncoming traffic. Two cars headed south. But no white van.
Should she stop? Flag down one of the cars?
No. She’d be vulnerable as soon as she slowed. And they might not stop for her, in the middle of the night, with the rain pounding down.
