Chapter 3

Come on, you think. It’s not going to stop.

As if he hears your thoughts, he turns up his collar, takes a tentative step from under the overhang, covers his head with one hand in an ineffectual gesture, and steps off the curb. He splashes through swirling water and then jogs across the empty street, crossing the median now…where’s he going? Home, maybe, or the bus station. Yeah, that sounds good. The bus station.

Without thinking, you flash your headlights at him and he freezes. You see him peering at the car, slick with rain, shining in the glow of one solitary street lamp. He’s staring like he’s trying to see past the blurred windshield, see who’s inside.