The Biker (Nightmare Hall) by Diane Hoh Page A

corner of the wall shortly after she did.
    “What’s up?” he said lazily, leaning against the brick.
    She regarded him with cold eyes. “What’s up? How can you even ask that? Four people are in hospital beds right now, thanks to you. One of them might die.”
    “We’re all going to die, Echo. Sooner or later.” His voice was emotionless. “I mean, you were there, right? You saw the whole thing. Did she look to you like she was going to die?”
    “You ran right over her!”
    Pruitt lifted his shoulders nonchalantly. “The guy on the radio last night said she ‘failed to get out of the way of the bike.’ Sounded to me like he thought it was her fault.”
    Echo’s mouth dropped open. “You were on the sidewalk! You went after those people on purpose. They never had a chance. How can you blame them?”
    He turned his back on her, began etching invisible letters on the brick with an index finger. “So,” he said lazily, “you up for another ride? Great day for it!”
    Echo stared at his back. “You’ve got to be kidding! You don’t even feel the least bit guilty about what you did last night, do you?”
    He turned to face her. “When I drove into that crowd at the mall, you said it wasn’t my fault they fell all over themselves trying to get out of the way. Changed your mind? Don’t find motorcycles so fascinating anymore, Echo?”
    “Those people last night didn’t get hurt trying to get out of your way. You went straight for them! They never had a chance. And only someone who is really twisted wouldn’t feel guilty about doing what you did.”
    He smiled thinly. “Meaning me, I guess. Sick and twisted, that’s me.”
    Echo made a sound of contempt. “If the boot fits …”
    The smile, which struck her as incredibly cold and humorless, stretched into a grin. “That’s cute. Of course, you’re not planning on going to the police about the boot fitting Aaron Pruitt’s foot.” It was a statement, not a question.
    She hadn’t decided yet. She couldn’t think clearly enough to formulate a way out of this mess. Still, she said with false bravado, “I’m not? Why not?” She needed to know what he was thinking. She couldn’t tell just by looking at him, the way you could with some people. Nothing showed in his thin, pale face.
    He sat down on the grass in front of the wall, linking his arms around his bended knees. “Look, let’s face facts here. You’re not stupid, any more than I am. You already knew about the other bike incidents. So you had to know coming to me, practically begging me for a ride, climbing on that bike, could lead to trouble. And you got on, anyway. You’re no innocent victim here, Echo. You took part in a crime, and in the eyes of the law, you’re as guilty as I am. You should know that.”
    “I didn’t take part!” she shouted, and then, frightened that someone passing by might have heard her, quickly lowered her voice. “I didn’t take part. I had no idea you were going to do something so awful. The other times, all you did was scare people. Even when I saw what you were doing, there was no way I could have jumped off that bike. I’d have been hurt, too, maybe even killed.”
    Although the sight of him repelled her, she couldn’t take her eyes off his face. He was sitting there on the grass, looking up at her so innocently, and the worst part, the very worst part, was that she knew he was right. She had asked him for the ride when she already knew he’d been flirting with trouble. Wasn’t that one of the things that had intrigued her about the bike episodes? Some guy in black leather and a helmet, driving a gorgeous, powerful bike so close to the edge without actually going over it?
    She should have figured that if he gave her the ride she’d asked for, she just might be with him when he did go over that edge.
    What kind of a lawyer was she going to make if she couldn’t judge people and situations any better than that?
    Maybe now, she would never be a