The train rumbled as it left. The man in control searched around for the passengers. Only one figure moved in the darkness. For a moment his body tightened, but then he saw it was a large fat man.
“Damn it,” Daniel whispered.
Would they wait for the next train? It was freezing in the van, and he needed to pee, and it stank, and—
“Look.” Daniel leaned forward in his seat, excitement in his eyes.
Another passenger. Walking slowly. Thin, petite, long curly hair. She had her eyes on the fat man in front of her. She must have waited on purpose because she didn’t want this man walking behind her. She’d thought he was the risk.
The man in control grabbed the door handle. Daniel caught his arm.
“Wait,” he said. “Not yet.”
“But if she gets to her car—”
“She won’t. That’s her car, over there.” Daniel pointed at one of the farthest vehicles. “See how she’s looking at it? I bet she’s regretting parking so far away now.”
The man in control waited. Breath held, his heart racing, teeth almost chattering.
“Okay,” Daniel said. “Go. Don’t forget the bag. And remember, not too fast.”
The man in control shouldered his bag and got out of the van without shutting the door behind him, just like they’d planned. He followed the woman, his steps long, hurried. He tried to make as little noise as he could, the sound of his feet on the paved parking lot thudding in his ears as if amplified. The woman hadn’t noticed him yet. She strode briskly, probably both cold and afraid. Daniel was right: he could see how she focused on her car, her sanctuary. She rummaged in her bag, and he prepared to lunge as soon as he saw the shape of a phone. But all she took out were her car keys. She was completely intent on her one purpose—getting into her car.
And then she glanced backward. She saw him. If she screams, it’s over.
But she didn’t. Daniel had told him they almost never screamed at first. They walked away, mind churning with denial, hoping that the man following them was just a random guy. They were scared, but they didn’t want to cause a scene.
She walked faster, getting away from him. He needed to keep pace. Daniel had told him not to give chase. That wasn’t the plan. He had to stick to the plan, he was in control, and the plan was that he just follow her, get her away from the road and the station. He was in control, he was . . .
He ran now, his mouth full of saliva. He could smell her scent in the air, perfume, and shampoo, and sweat, and underneath it all, warm blood. He was almost upon her. She glanced back and screamed.
If she screams, it’s over.
He didn’t care. He kept running, chasing her—she was almost within his grasp. But she had reached her car, was about to unlock it, to drive away.
Daniel’s figure unfolded into view. He’d circled the parking lot and had waited for her behind the car, and now he grabbed her, hand over her mouth before she could yell for help. She squirmed in his arms, struggling, her screaming muffled.
“I got her,” Daniel hissed. “Damn it, why did you—”
He gasped as the woman elbowed his stomach. Daniel’s hold over the woman became lax, and she clawed at his arms, raking them. Daniel let out a grunt of pain and pushed her, and she fell to the ground. The scent of blood filled the air.
She stumbled as she ran away from them, but in the wrong direction. She should have headed toward the road, toward help, and the train station’s security. Instead, she ran the other way. She screamed now, but her voice was breathless, shuddering with fear. She was in a deserted parking lot, the few commercial buildings around them empty for the night.
The man in control ran after her, the thrill of the chase filling him with pure ecstasy. This was what he was born to do. As he ran, getting farther away from the road, the ground changed, gravel crunching under his soles, the moonlight shining on cracks crisscrossing the pavement. Ahead, the shadows of trees loomed. She saw them, swerved to the right, toward the structures, toward civilization.
Too late.
He crashed into her, and they both tumbled to the ground. He bit his tongue, a sharp blinding pain, and then he could taste his own blood, which only excited him more for what was