I had a flat tire. In fact, upon further inspection, it appeared that I had two.
“Shit,” I muttered, shoulders slumping.
My mind whirled as I tried to figure out what to do.
I could try to get an Uber all the way out here, but I wasn’t sure I’d make it all the way to Silvercreek. The journey would cost a lot, especially with Friday night price surging, and my dwindling bank account might not have enough to cover it.
With a heavy sigh, I turned and headed back across the parking lot, figuring my only option now was to go to the security office and ask for help. I’d seen a couple of security guards helping a student who punctured a tire about a week ago, so they probably had a few more spares lying around. I just had to hope they didn’t ask me too many questions about my urgent desire to leave the campus tonight.
I stopped dead in my tracks as a silhouette appeared at the opposite end of the lot, about forty yards away from me. It was a man, tall and hulking, dressed in loose dark clothing.
He stood there, motionless. Something was hanging in his right hand, gripped tightly in his fingers. It looked like a gun, but I couldn’t be sure.
Hunter.
It had to be him. Only he would stalk me in a parking lot like this.
A lump appeared in my throat as I tried to figure out what to do. He obviously knew I was trying to leave, so was it even worth trying now? Should I just give up and let him come for me instead?
He started moving, taking slow, measured steps toward me. As he drew closer, I saw that he was wearing a black mask, and his dark jacket hood had been pulled up to hide his hair.
“You don’t scare me, Hunter,” I called out, even though it was a total lie. “I know it’s you, and I know that’s not a real gun in your hand.”
“I’m not Hunter, sweetheart.” The responding voice was cold and gruff. It was vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t place it.
All I knew was that it definitely wasn’tHunter.
“Oh, shit,” I whispered, stomach clenching as hair rose on the back of my neck. Memories from my first day at RFA were flooding my mind, filling me with icy dread.
Apparently there used to be some sort of secret society here. An old boys’ club who got up to all sorts of creepy stuff, Trina had told me. There were rumors about them taking part in ritualistic murders. Also, some students found a body here once. A girl. Scholarship student.Kidnapped, held captive, tortured, and finally strangled.
Watch out, Laney… you could be next,Adam had joked.
It wasn’t so funny now that it might actually be happening.
When my friends first told me about all the urban legends on this campus, I thought there was a sliver of a chance that the so-called secret society was still around. Maybe I was right, and there was some truth in the rumors of their depravity. Maybe every so often the members liked to hunt down scholarship students to torture and kill them for fun.
Maybe they’d chosen me as their next victim.
The masked man took another step closer to me. Then he stopped and cocked his head to one side, as if he were waiting for me to freak out and make a run for it, heightening his twisted enjoyment of the game.
My fight-or-flight instincts finally kicked in, and I whirled around, trying to figure out the quickest way to the campus security office from where I was standing. Horror filled me as I spied another masked man standing at the other end of the lot, and then another on the path on the western side.
Shit. There was only one place to go now.
The woods.
The realization hit me just as the men took off running, heading right for me.
I screamed and dashed madly to the right, wind whipping through my hair as I approached the dense patch of trees. Fog had collected around the trunks and in the hollows, making it look like something out of a horror film, and when I stepped inside, there was a chill in the air that seemed to penetrate my clothes, seeping right into my bones. It was oppressively dark too, but that was a good thing. It made it easier for me to disappear.
I sucked in a deep breath and ran as fast as I could.
The woods had claws and teeth. Sharp twigs and thorns bit at me as I ran through, stinging my legs and ankles, but I gritted my teeth and tried to ignore the pain. I sprinted harder and harder, choking down my terror, and some sort of primal instinct finally led me to a narrow dirt trail, carved out by centuries of human and animal activity.
I turned onto it, heading south. I knew this patch of forest ended somewhere in that direction, and there was a brick path there, leading to a staff parking lot near the southern end of Royal Hall. Just beyond that was the security office.
All I had to do was make it that far.