forbidden to him because of a family feud? Did he walk every day to escape the oppressive responsibilities of a multi-national corporation? Could he leap tall buildings in a single bound?
After seeing him that first time, Suzy kept her routine the same, and every day she caught a glimpse of her Rochester coming or going, crossing the clearing, fueling new stories in her head. Stories that drove the numbers away.
One thousand fifty-one. One thousand fifty-two. One thousand fifty-three.
Suzy sighed. Well, the stories drove most of the numbers away. She couldn’t stop counting her steps, even when she tried.
The breeze lifted her running jacket with a cold touch, piercing all the way through her light T-shirt. Autumn had well and truly arrived at Angel Falls. They’d had a late summer but now, daylight grew short, and fall was just around the corner. Suzy could feel it in the air and see it in the dark of the forest. Shadows that had clung to corners now ate up great spaces, like dark ooze creeping over the land.
Suzy shivered and zipped up her short jacket. Her imagination was getting the best of her. She should head back…but no, not before she reached the clearing. Would her Rochester be there? She’d missed seeing him the last two days and wondered if it would be the same today. Picking up her speed, Suzy turned the corner.
One thousand sixty-three…
The next number died on her lips. Suzy came to a grinding halt. In the center of the clearing, her Rochester stood stock-still, hands fisted at his sides, his gaze uplifted.
Suzy took two steps forward, closer to the edge of the trail. She squinted into the twilight, not believing what she saw. A dark cloud floated over him. As she watched, it shifted, crystallizing into the shape of a woman with flowing hair, stretched out…right above Suzy’s Rochester.
She gasped, stepped back, and tripped over her own feet. Then she tumbled down the side of the trail and screamed all the way to the bottom.
****
Scott Lunsford watched the image shift and shimmer into the shape of Julie’s face. The dark mist wavered in a perfect imitation of her long hair.
The misty image mocked him. He wanted to punch it away, but it would do no good. He had tried before. The mist would scatter and soon reshape itself into Julie’s image. It disturbed him, frightened him, and made him feel powerless.
Almost as if it read his mind, the ghostly lips smiled in response, pleased at his frustration. Now Scott couldn’t resist. He swung at the image, dissipating its unholy pleasure.
Suddenly, a scream carried across the clearing. Scott spun just in time to see a young woman in a blue running suit rolling down the side of the Angelina Forest Trail. When the scream stopped, Scott was already running to help her.
He reached her side just as the young woman raised off her stomach. A long twig protruded from the brown strands of her short, slightly upturned hair. She sat on her bottom, batted away the twig, and then winced, and turned up her palms to examine multiple cuts.
“Are you all right?”
She jumped. Scraped palms forgotten, she quickly looked up and all around. “Where is it?”
“Where is what?” Scott sunk to his haunches beside her, his EMT training kicking into gear as he examined her for more injuries.
“That thing, floating over your head. Where did it go?’
Scott froze. “You saw it?”
“Her,” she said with a nod of her head. “Most definitely a her.”
As the words penetrated, Scott felt the fear and tension drain out of him, right through the soles of his feet into the ground. He sagged, his relief was so great.
“Do you have some kind of light machine? Is that how you made it?”
Scott gave a shake to his head and looped one arm over his upraised knee. “I don’t even know what ‘it’ is, so I’m pretty sure I didn’t make it.”
He looked up into the prettiest bright green eyes he’d ever seen, fringed with dark lashes and widened in
After seeing him that first time, Suzy kept her routine the same, and every day she caught a glimpse of her Rochester coming or going, crossing the clearing, fueling new stories in her head. Stories that drove the numbers away.
One thousand fifty-one. One thousand fifty-two. One thousand fifty-three.
Suzy sighed. Well, the stories drove most of the numbers away. She couldn’t stop counting her steps, even when she tried.
The breeze lifted her running jacket with a cold touch, piercing all the way through her light T-shirt. Autumn had well and truly arrived at Angel Falls. They’d had a late summer but now, daylight grew short, and fall was just around the corner. Suzy could feel it in the air and see it in the dark of the forest. Shadows that had clung to corners now ate up great spaces, like dark ooze creeping over the land.
Suzy shivered and zipped up her short jacket. Her imagination was getting the best of her. She should head back…but no, not before she reached the clearing. Would her Rochester be there? She’d missed seeing him the last two days and wondered if it would be the same today. Picking up her speed, Suzy turned the corner.
One thousand sixty-three…
The next number died on her lips. Suzy came to a grinding halt. In the center of the clearing, her Rochester stood stock-still, hands fisted at his sides, his gaze uplifted.
Suzy took two steps forward, closer to the edge of the trail. She squinted into the twilight, not believing what she saw. A dark cloud floated over him. As she watched, it shifted, crystallizing into the shape of a woman with flowing hair, stretched out…right above Suzy’s Rochester.
She gasped, stepped back, and tripped over her own feet. Then she tumbled down the side of the trail and screamed all the way to the bottom.
****
Scott Lunsford watched the image shift and shimmer into the shape of Julie’s face. The dark mist wavered in a perfect imitation of her long hair.
The misty image mocked him. He wanted to punch it away, but it would do no good. He had tried before. The mist would scatter and soon reshape itself into Julie’s image. It disturbed him, frightened him, and made him feel powerless.
Almost as if it read his mind, the ghostly lips smiled in response, pleased at his frustration. Now Scott couldn’t resist. He swung at the image, dissipating its unholy pleasure.
Suddenly, a scream carried across the clearing. Scott spun just in time to see a young woman in a blue running suit rolling down the side of the Angelina Forest Trail. When the scream stopped, Scott was already running to help her.
He reached her side just as the young woman raised off her stomach. A long twig protruded from the brown strands of her short, slightly upturned hair. She sat on her bottom, batted away the twig, and then winced, and turned up her palms to examine multiple cuts.
“Are you all right?”
She jumped. Scraped palms forgotten, she quickly looked up and all around. “Where is it?”
“Where is what?” Scott sunk to his haunches beside her, his EMT training kicking into gear as he examined her for more injuries.
“That thing, floating over your head. Where did it go?’
Scott froze. “You saw it?”
“Her,” she said with a nod of her head. “Most definitely a her.”
As the words penetrated, Scott felt the fear and tension drain out of him, right through the soles of his feet into the ground. He sagged, his relief was so great.
“Do you have some kind of light machine? Is that how you made it?”
Scott gave a shake to his head and looped one arm over his upraised knee. “I don’t even know what ‘it’ is, so I’m pretty sure I didn’t make it.”
He looked up into the prettiest bright green eyes he’d ever seen, fringed with dark lashes and widened in
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