The Chase Page 0,1

a rabbit might feel when it freezes, crouched down, with the hunter's eyes on it. Like what a squirrel might feel when it sees something big creeping slowly closer.

A... watched feeling.

The skin on the back of his neck began to crawl.

There were eyes watching him. He felt it with the part of his brain that hadn't changed in a hundred million years. The reptile part.

Gingerly, flesh still creeping, he turned.

Directly behind him three old sycamores grew close enough together to cast a shade. But the darkness underneath was too dark to be just a shadow. It was more like a black vapor hanging there.

Something was under those trees. Something else had been watching the rabbit.

Now it was watching him.

The black vapor seemed to stir. White teeth glinted out of the darkness, as bright as sunlight on water.

Gordie's eyes bulged in their sockets.

What the-what was it?

The vapor moved again and he saw.

Only-it couldn't be. It couldn't be what he thought he saw, because it-just couldn't be. Because there wasn't anything like that in the world, so it just couldn'tIt was beyond anything he'd ever imagined. When it moved, it moved fast. Gordie got off one shot as it surged toward him. Then he turned and ran.

He went the way the rabbit had, slipping and slithering down the slope, tearing his jeans and his hands on prickly pear cactus. The thing he'd seen was right behind him. He could hear it breathing. His foot caught on a stone, and he fell heavily, arms flailing.

He rolled over and saw it in the full sunlight. His mouth sagged open. He tried to scoot away on his backside, but sheer terror paralyzed his muscles.

Deliberately it closed in.

A loose, blubbery wail came from Gordie's lips. His last wild thought was Not me-not me-I'm not a rabbit-not meeeeee -

His heart stopped before it even got its teeth in him.

Jenny was brushing her hair, really brushing it, feeling it crackle and lift by itself to meet the plastic bristles in the static electricity of this golden May afternoon. She gazed absently at her own reflection, seeing a girl with forest green eyes, dark as pine needles, and eyebrows that were straight, like two decisive brush strokes. The hair that lifted to meet the brush was the color of honey in sunlight.

"They didn't do it."

Jenny stopped abruptly. A girl was reflected behind her in the mirror.

The girl had dark hair and dark eyes reddened with crying. She looked poised for flight out of the bathroom.

"I'm sorry?"

"I said, they didn't do it. Slug and P.C. They didn't kill your friend Summer."

Oh. Jenny found herself gripping the brush hard, unable to even turn her head. She could only look at the girl's eyes reflected in the mirror, but she understood now. "I never said they did," she said softly and carefully. "I just told the police that they were around that night. And that they stole something from my living room. A paper house. A game."

"I hate you."

Shocked, Jenny turned.

"You and your preppy friends-you did it. You killed her yourselves. And someday everybody will know and you'll pay and you'll be sorry." The girl was twisting a Kleenex between slim olive-tan fingers, tearing it into little bits. Her long hair was absolutely straight except for the slight undersweep of the ends, and her dark eyes were pensive. She didn't belong at Vista Grande High; Jenny had never seen her before.

Jenny put the brush down and went to her, facing her directly. The girl looked taken aback.

"Why were you crying?" Jenny said gently.

"Why should you care? You're a soshe. You wear your fancy clothes to school and hang out with your rich friends-"

"Who's rich? What have my clothes got to do with it?" Jenny could feel her eyebrows come together. She looked pointedly at the girl's fashionably tattered designer jeans.

The girl spoke sullenly. "You're a soshe..."

Jenny grabbed her.

"I am not a soshe," she said fiercely. "I am a human being. So are you. So what is your problem?"

The girl wouldn't say anything. She twisted under Jenny's hands, and Jenny felt the small bones in her shoulders. Finally, almost spitting it in Jenny's face, she said, "P.C. was my friend. He never did anything to that girl. You and your friends did something, something so bad that you had to hide her body and tell those lies. But you just wait. I can prove P.C. didn't hurt her. I can prove it."

Despite the warm day, hairs rose on Jenny's arms. Her little