Page 89 of Forever Dark
Her mouth went dry.
No, that meant nothing.People adjusted speed all the time on country roads.Maybe the driver was cautious.Maybe they were watching for deer.Maybe they were tired, too.
At the next intersection she took the right turn she always took.
For one second, she watched the mirror and told herself this proved nothing either, because three houses sat off this road before it reached her place.
The headlights turned after her.
A thin laugh escaped her, the sound brittle enough to make her wish she had kept quiet.
“This is stupid,” she said.
It did not feel stupid.
Fields pressed close here.No houses for a while.Just fence posts, dark tree lines, and the occasional pale ribbon of road leading off into land she could not see.Tara thought about calling someone.The sheriff’s department maybe.Or her sister.The idea was ridiculous the second it formed.What would she say?A car is behind me on a public road?She pictured the dispatcher’s silence and felt ashamed already.
She was tired.Spooked.Letting news stories get into her head.If she drove past home because another car had happened to be on the same road, what did that make her?One of those people who let fear govern the shape of ordinary life.One of those people who saw menace in every shadow.
The world was still mostly ordinary.It had to be.
Up ahead, her driveway came into view.
The mailbox.The leaning fence post beside it.The gravel lane running up toward the house with the porch light glowing warm and familiar through the dark.
Tara turned in.
In the mirror, the headlights behind her did not follow.
They kept going.
Relief hit so fast it made her bark out a laugh.Half shaky, half disgusted with herself.
“Oh, nice one, Tara.”
Her car rolled to a stop near the house.Scattered small stones crackled under the tires.She left the engine idling and sat there for a second, forehead almost touching the wheel.
Adrenaline drained out and left her feeling foolish.
“Unbelievable, Tara,” she muttered.“Get your shit together.”
The porch light was still on.Good.She had forgotten to switch it off before work and had been annoyed at herself halfway through the shift.Now the soft yellow square spilling over the steps looked like the kindest thing in the world.Bed waited inside.A shower.Maybe not the leftovers after all.Maybe just sleep.
Her bag came off the passenger seat.She checked for her keys.Thought about peeling out of her scrubs the second she got in.Thought, with mild irritation, that she had forgotten groceries again and would have to deal with that tomorrow.
Then the driver’s side door flew open.
Cold air slammed into her.
A hand caught her upper arm and yanked so hard pain shot clear to her shoulder.Tara screamed and twisted in the seat, but all she saw at first was a shape and a sleeve and a gloved hand clamped on her.
“Please, no!”
The words tore out of her raw and thin.
She grabbed for the steering wheel with one hand and the edge of the seat with the other.The man hauled again.The seat belt locked against her chest.For one wild second she thought it might save her.Then his hand fumbled low, found the release, and the belt snapped free.
Tara hit the horn.
