France at nightwas beautiful, but eerie. The large, looming structures in the distance cutjagged shapes of shadow against the skyline. The quiet of the sidewalks andstreets, the empty businesses, and the silent houses stood sentry in the dark,witnessing her progress up the sidewalk. She traced the cracks, stepping overthe gaps in the stones, circling the planted trees, her eyes fixed ahead.
She heardsomething.
Adele turnedsharply, her hand darting to the weapon on her hip. Someone was coming towardher. Someone in a hood. She stared and began to raise a hand, calling out.
A flash ofsilver in the person’s hand. Her weapon jerked from its holster, pointingtoward the oncoming aggressor. “Don’t,” she began, but then she froze, and justas quickly stowed her gun before the person noticed.
A young womanwas staring at the sidewalk, hood up, earbuds in, muttering to herself beneathher breath as she strode purposefully up the nighttime streets. Suddenly, as ifcatching a look of Adele out of the corner of her eye, she pulled up sharplyand stared, wide-eyed from beneath her hood. It didn’t seem like she’d noticedthe gun.
The young womanstopped a few paces away, took one look at Adele, then cautiously moved acrossto the other side of the street, making a big deal as if she’d intended tocross all along.
Adele watchedthe young woman put earbuds deep in her ears again, adjust her hood, then setoff at a jog. Adele wanted to call out, to tell her it wasn’t safe wanderingthe streets at night. But another part of her knew most people didn’t live inher world. Most weren’t confronted with murder and death on the daily. Thechances of something happening to that young woman in this part of the neighborhoodwas relatively low. Adele couldn’t protect everyone. People had to make theirown choices.
She turned backto the house, still inhaling deeply through her nose and wandering up thestreet.
It took her afew more minutes to gather her breath and completely rid herself of the scentof strong cologne and mothballs which lingered on her clothes. Finally,brushing her sleeves and turning back to the safe house, Adele moved once more.
A suddenscraping sound drifted down the street from behind her; again Adele whirledaround, heart in her throat.
This time,though, it was just a metal sign across the way, advertising a shoe store onthe other block. Buffeted by the pawing wind, the sign scratched against thesidewalk, one of its rope fastenings having loosened.
Adele stared atthe metal sign and smiled grimly to herself. This time, she did reach up andslap gently against her face. Focus, she thought. She shook her head andthen turned, moving back to the house and taking the patio steps.
Just seeing ghosts, she thought.Adele grabbed the door handle and turned it.
She stepped intothe dark house, wishing she had left a light on. But she hadn’t wanted to alertanyone. If the killer did decide to change his MO, she had wanted tocatch him off guard.
Darkness was aclose ally of ambush.
She steppedfurther into the hall, felt a sudden breezy chill, and quickly closed the doorbehind her. Perhaps it wouldn’t be the worst idea to get at least a littlelight. It wasn’t like she’d seen anyone on the streets anyway. Adele reachedtoward the light switch by the living room door frame.
Then, a suddensound of shuffling movement.
Her heartinvaded her throat.
A pale handsnaked around the doorway and snared her wrist. With a powerful yank, the handdragged her forward.
Adele yelled insurprise and horror. She caught a glimpse of a young man, wearing a bright hat.But she couldn’t see much else except for a flash of metal arcing toward herneck.
She yelled andjerked back.
Adele managed tododge the swiping blade, but the man still gripped her by the wrist. For thebriefest moment, they struggled, and Adele heard something… something strange.
The man washumming.
She winced, herblood pumping, terror fueling her.
“John!” shescreamed. “John, downstairs!” Adele wanted to move, but she couldn’t distanceherself. The young man’s grip was too strong.
The strangehumming continued, interrupted only by grunts of exertion as he began tuggingat her. His eyes were vacant as he stared at her and smiled like a jack-o’-lantern.
“Let go of me!”she screeched.
Her off-handreached for her gun. Despite his grip, she still twisted, trying to reachacross her waist to the holster on her opposite hip. She had to stop, though,as the blade sliced toward her neck a second time, but this time Adele kickedout, catching her assailant in the knee. He released his grip and stumbledback.
Adele rapidlypulled her firearm from her hip and took aim, but before she could squeeze offa shot, the man lunged toward her again with a snarl. He tackled her, sendingher clattering to the ground with a painful grunt. Her head whipped back,slamming into the floorboards, and dark spots danced across her vision. She laystunned for a moment, but found it difficult to breathe.
As the fogcleared, she realized his full weight was pressed on her, crushing her chest,impeding her lungs. “Get—get off!” she tried to shout, but the words came outjumbled, and she continued to gasp, unable to draw breath.
The man’s handfumbled against the floorboards, reaching past her, his body still thickagainst her, holding her down.
“Thank you,” hesaid in a wheezing voice, “thank you so much for volunteering! Thank you!”
Then he beganhumming again. Adele felt shivers up the back of her spine, angling her headand extending her fingers toward her weapon which had landed in the thresholdof the dining room against the floorboards. Her fingers scrabbled against thewood, and her eyes widened. Even with shallow breaths, she could feel the fearflooding her. Her fingers brushed the butt of the gun, just as the man lashedout with his knife again.
This time,though, he’d seen her groping hand and had aimed toward her fingers.
A flash of pain.She jerked her hand just in time to avoid losing a finger, but the knife hadsliced her middle
