WEBCAM by Jack Kilborn Page A

Another one was paranoia. Thinking people were watching you.
    Kendal took an easy look around at all of the cameras in the kitchen. People actually were watching her.
    But were they out to get her?
    She thought about the van following her on the way to school. Had that been real? Had the chat with Allec2? The phone call she just got?
    Or were past afflictions coming back to haunt her?
    “Shy?” Linda asked, using her screen name. “You look like you’re seriously freaking out.”
    “I think I just need to take a walk. Can you come with me?”
    “History essay. I need to cut and paste some Wikipedia pages and change enough so it passes the sniff test. My prof searches phrases on Google.”
    Kendal gripped her arm. “Just to the corner, get some ice cream or something. My treat.”
    “You know I’m dieting, bitch.”
    “Fine. We’ll go for celery. Please?”
    “I heard celery has negative calories. It actually burns more calories to chew it than you digest.”
    “So let’s go. I’ll buy you ten pounds of celery, and you’ll be a size 2 by the time we get back.”
    Linda made a face like she was severely constipated. “Ooh, it’s tempting, but I really have to do this paper. I’ve played around enough today.”
    Linda left the kitchen. Kendal stared at her phone again.
    Had I erased the call?
    Or, maybe, had Linda erased the call?
    Is it still paranoia if everyone is actually out to get you?
    Kendal closed her eyes. She thought about her father. All the things he’d done to her. All the things he’d threatened to do.
    But he was gone. Long gone. Kendal needed the webcam money, but if there had been a single chance in a billion that her father could somehow find her, she would have run away with the clothes on her back and not stopped until the soles of her shoes had worn down to nothing.
    Kendal opened her eyes, forcing herself not to stare at any of the cameras, but feeling them on her body like hands pawing at her. She had to get out of there. Immediately.
    She counted her steps—eighteen—to the front door, touched the knob three times before turning it, and then began the six hundred and eight step trip to the corner store.
    Twenty-nine steps into her journey she shivered. It was cold, and she hadn’t taken a coat. She crossed her arms, hugging herself, and picked up the pace.
    Turning the corner at one hundred and fifty-five steps, Kendal saw the van. The same one that might have followed her earlier. Dark, tinted windows, creeping along under the speed limit.
    Coming toward her.
    Kendal froze. Should she run? Call the police? Pinch herself to make sure it wasn’t a psychotic delusion?
    The van pulled up alongside her and stopped, idling there.
    Run! Kendal told herself.
    But she’d forgotten her count.
    As before, Kendal couldn’t draw a breath. Her legs began to tremble, but her feet might as well have grown roots.
    The corner was 155. She knew that. How many steps had she gone past that point? Ten? Fifteen?
    The side panel door of the van inched open.
    Kendal cast a frantic look around, seeking help. Up ahead, coming her way, was a police car.
    I need to scream. If I scream, the police will stop.
    But her lungs were as frozen as her feet. She watched, her eyes blurry with tears, as the cop car rolled past.
    The van door opened. It was dark inside, but Kendal thought she saw a figure crouched inside. Someone wearing black. But it was strange, almost like a shadow rather than a person.
    Where did I leave off?!?
    Kendal began to mentally count up from 155, hoping a number would seem familiar. She was getting dizzy from the lack of air, and the shadow inside the van seemed to shift and twist, as if coiling up to pounce.
    One seventy-two, one seventy-three…
    That was it! One seventy-three!
    She sucked in a breath and began to sprint back toward her sorority house, running as fast as she could count. When she made it home, panting and shaking all over, she was trying to hold her key steady enough to