The Dead End
My blood turned to ice.
“Nine,” the rasping voice echoed from the dashboard speakers.
I scrambled for the gearshift to throw the car into reverse, but the engine sputtered and died, plunging the cabin into near-total darkness. The only light was the eerie, pale glow of the GPS screen, casting long shadows across the steering wheel.
“Eight. Seven.”
The heavy fog swirling around the hood of my car seemed to thicken, pressing against the glass. I slammed my hand onto the door handle, but the electronic locks had engaged. The master switch did nothing.
“Six.”
Through the windshield, the decaying wooden doors of the abandoned barn began to groan. They were inching open, revealing a cavernous, pitch-black interior that seemed to swallow the meager light from the moon.
“Five. Four.”
Panic gave way to pure adrenaline. I unbuckled my seatbelt, swung both legs over the center console, and planted my boots squarely against the passenger-side window. I kicked with everything I had. Once. Twice. On the third strike, the tempered glass shattered outward into the mist.
“Three. Two.”
I dragged myself through the jagged opening, slicing my jacket on the remaining shards, and tumbled onto the damp earth. I didn’t look back. I sprinted into the dense woods bordering the dirt road, the heavy fog instantly swallowing me whole.
“One.” The voice from the car speakers boomed into the quiet night, followed by a heavy, metallic clunk echoing from the barn.
“Zero.”
I threw myself behind the thick trunk of a massive oak tree, clamping both hands over my mouth to muffle my ragged breathing. My heart hammered against my ribs. I waited for the sound of footsteps, the crack of snapping branches, the roar of whatever had just stepped out of that barn.
But there was nothing. Just the deafening silence of the midnight woods and the dripping of condensation from the leaves.
I stayed frozen for what felt like hours, finally daring to lower my hands. Maybe I had lost it. Maybe the fog was too thick for it to track me.
I let out a long, shaky exhale, leaning my head back against the rough bark.
From the absolute darkness on the other side of the tree trunk, the same deep, human rasp whispered directly into my ear.
“Recalculating.”
