Born To Die

veered toward the interior of the park, away from the street. Sweating despite the wintry air, she headed toward the lone hemlock that she always circled before returning on the same path.

Her breath was fogging the air now; her blood pumping crazily.

Almost there!

She was alone; no one else was nutty or obsessive enough to be out in this weather. God, it was cold. Despite her gloves, her fingers were numb.

Around a final bend, she spied a massive tree rising darkly to the stygian heavens.

She slowed a bit, gasping from the exertion and removing her earbuds for a second. Leaning forward, she braced her hands on her knees. She usually didn’t stop midway, but tonight she needed a quick breather.

Over the sound of her labored breathing and the rapid tattoo of her heart, she heard the sound of the river and the moan of the wind. She was fiddling with her iPod when she heard another noise… footsteps? Was someone else out jogging?

Her head snapped up.

Not a big deal, and yet she was wary. Careful.

Probably just another dedicated runner.

Maybe you aren’t the only idiot out tonight.

She plugged in one earbud and took off again, listening to a Beyonce number with one ear and the sounds of the coming night with the other.

Just to be certain she was okay.

The wind was chasing down the river’s canyon, cold as ever, and she thought she heard an owl hoot, welcoming the gloaming, then, again, the regular smack of feet on pavement behind her.

Yep, another jogger.

And a fast one, from the sounds of it.

She glanced over her shoulder, saw no one, and picked up her pace. It was time to go home, stand under a warm shower, and try to feel better. There were still three more days of school before the holiday—

The footsteps were closer now.

Clipping along. Rapidly.

Again, she turned her head.

The path behind her was empty.

The hairs on the back of her neck prickled.

It’s just your imagination, Jocelyn. Nothing sinister.

Ignoring the burning in her lungs and the cramping in her calves, she kicked into a sprint, running quickly through the trees. It was dark now, only a few lamps offering any kind of illumination, the trees with their black trunks stark as they rose from the winter-bleached grass, a blur.

Don’t freak out. There’s no reason to freak out. Even though you don’t have your phone with you, it’s nothing to worry about.

She was really sweating now.

The main road rimming the bluff was close, just around the next corner—

“Oh!”

She caught a glimpse of the other jogger, a tall, athletic man dressed head to toe in black running gear and a ski mask.

Her heart clutched.

Nothing to worry about. Let him pass.

Adrenaline sped through her bloodstream. She kicked her pace up a notch, to a full-blown run, her feet slapping the path faster and faster, her breath hard.

It’s all right. It’s all right. It’s all right….

But was it?

He was closing quickly.

Panic swept through her.

He was close enough that she could hear his breathing. Strong. Steady—

The toe of her running shoe caught, and she stumbled forward, arms flying. She managed to catch herself before she went down and somehow kept her balance, though her stride was off.

“Careful,” a deep voice said from behind.

Oh, God! He was only two steps away.

She set her jaw. Told herself to be calm.

Did his voice sound familiar?

Her heart raced crazily.

Out of the park she ran. Onto the path edging the bluff. She’d hoped that he would turn the opposite direction, but he was just a step behind her, heading for the downhill run. Maybe she should just stop and let him breeze by.

If only she had her damned phone.

Or the canister of pepper spray she kept in her purse.

“On your right,” he said, catching up with her, matching her pace stride for stride. Now was the time to pull back. “Enjoying yourself, Josie?” he asked.

Josie? She nearly tripped again He knew her? Oh, God, why was his voice familiar?

“You should be careful, y’know.” His shoulder bumped against hers.

She lost her footing and was starting to go down when he suddenly caught her, the fingers of one strong hand circling her upper arm.

“I told you to be careful!” he declared, his grip tight, painful.

“Let go of me! Who are you?” she demanded as they both stopped. Behind his ski mask he was breathing loudly.

“Don’t you know?” His fingers grew punishing.

“Who you are? No! I said, let go of. . Hey!” He jerked hard on her arm. “What’re you doing?” But she knew. In one heart-stopping second, she realized he meant to kill her! “Let go of me!” Her feet slipped out from under her as he pushed, and before she realized what was happening, he propelled her to the side of the cliff and the short stone railing. “Don’t! Oh, God, Help me! Help!” She was scrambling now, certain of the son of a bitch’s intent.

Oh, God, no! No!

Frantic, she flailed, trying to keep her balance as he shoved her sharply against the stone rail, cracking her shins.

Pain screamed up her legs.

“No!” She fought, but it was no use. He pushed hard, and her weight forced her over the guardrail. To her horror, arms windmilling, she went sailing into the growing darkness. Screaming, she tumbled through the air to land hard against the frozen hillside.

Crack!

Her head banged against a rock, and the world spun as she slid and bounced, twisting and rolling, trying to grab on to anything, her fingers scraping over dirt, roots, and rocks as she slid down the cliff face.

Please, God, help me—

Pain ricocheted up her spine, and somewhere in the distance she heard the roar of rushing water. Closer as she rolled, faster and faster, out of control, her skin bleeding, the world spinning.

But far above she caught a glimpse of him standing high above her, a black figure in the night, looking down.

Waiting.

For her to die.