I was alone on the path almost exactly where the first runner’s body had been found a few days earlier. Evidently, Ben was deaf or was scared that I was the killer, because he didn’t respond to me. For a moment, the wind died. My ears perked up. They picked up the ever so faint sound of rustling. Instinct guided me in the direction of the sound. I watched my steps very carefully.

“Ben, are you okay?” I bellowed, a moment before I entered the trees. Once I stepped in, darkness shrouded me. The moon’s shadows danced between the ghost-like branches of the wood. The situation was definitely getting creepy. A faint rustle started and stopped, started and stopped. I tiptoed in that direction, ever leery of things.

Ice filled my veins in an instant. Steps moved toward me. I ducked behind a larger tree. To call out or not to call out? My fingers fumbled for some form of defense. They instinctually worked their way down to where I kept my keys.

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