Three cars passed, beams from their headlights shimmering on the wet road, tires splashing up dirty water. Gritting her teeth, she kept at it, breathing with more difficulty as she veered into the park with its series of hiking trails. Just a little farther, she told herself. She was really breathing hard now, and her calves were beginning to cramp.
Finally, the ground leveled off, and she ran along an asphalt trail along the bluff that overlooked the river’s chasm. A short stone rail, less than two feet tall, had been built over a hundred-some years earlier and allowed a view of the ravine where the river swept over the falls of the town nearly two hundred feet below. The older section of Grizzly Falls was strung along the river’s banks just below the falls, streetlights glowing like iridescent jewels in the gathering gloom.
Dragging her eyes back to the path before her, Jocelyn followed the bluff until the path forked, and she veered toward the interior of the park, away from the street. Sweating despite the wintry air, she headed toward the lone hemlock that she always circled before returning on the same path.
Her breath was fogging the air now; her blood pumping crazily.
Almost there!
She was alone; no one else was nutty or obsessive enough to be out in this weather. God, it was cold. Despite her gloves, her fingers were numb.
Around a final bend, she spied a massive tree rising darkly to the stygian heavens.
She slowed a bit, gasping from the exertion and removing her earbuds for a second. Leaning forward, she braced her hands on her knees. She usually didn’t stop midway, but tonight she needed a quick breather.
Over the sound of her labored breathing and the rapid tattoo of her heart, she heard the sound of the river and the moan of the wind. She was fiddling with her iPod when she heard another noise ... footsteps? Was someone else out jogging?
Her head snapped up.
Not a big deal, and yet she was wary. Careful.
Probably just another dedicated runner.
Maybe you aren’t the only idiot out tonight.
She plugged in one earbud and took off again, listening to a Beyoncé number with one ear and the sounds of the coming night with the other.
Just to be certain she was okay.
The wind was chasing down the river’s canyon, cold as ever, and she thought she heard an owl hoot, welcoming the gloaming, then, again, the regular smack of feet on pavement behind her.
Yep, another jogger.
And a fast one, from the sounds of it.
She glanced over her shoulder, saw no one, and picked up her pace. It was time to go home, stand under a warm shower, and try to feel better. There were still three more days of school before the holiday—
The footsteps were closer now.
Clipping along. Rapidly.
Again, she turned her head.
The path behind her was empty.
The hairs on the back of her neck prickled.
&n
bsp; It’s just your imagination, Jocelyn. Nothing sinister.
Ignoring the burning in her lungs and the cramping in her calves, she kicked into a sprint, running quickly through the trees. It was dark now, only a few lamps offering any kind of illumination, the trees with their black trunks stark as they rose from the winter-bleached grass, a blur.
Don’t freak out. There’s no reason to freak out. Even though you don’t have your phone with you, it’s nothing to worry about.
She was really sweating now.
The main road rimming the bluff was close, just around the next corner—