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Definitely. How did you get so far away?
Me:
I have a terrible sense of direction, obviously.
Des:
We’ll come get you. What’s the name of the cemetery?
I look around for the name, but since I’m currently in the middle of the open space, there are none.
Me:
Spooky Scary Cemetery and Graveyard.
Des:
Lolololol.
Me:
Its the one on Goodwin lane?
Des:
Sam says she knows where that is. Find a place to stay dry. We’ll be there soon.
There’s a stone gazebo not far away. I make my way over to it and duck under the covering, shaking water from my hair and jacket. There are low benches on the perimeter of the space. I take a seat and wrap my arms around my stomach, trying to conserve what little warmth I have.
I hope Desi and Sam hurry. And I hope like hell I have enough time to change before we have to meet Hardin’s parents. Ridiculous, but I want to make a good impression. The last thing I want to do is show up looking like a drowned rat.
Tapping my feet on the flagstones, I look around. Normally, I like the rain. I enjoy feeling all moody and cozy, but this isn’t my first choice as a way to experience it.
This is not creepy at all.Mist slinks through the gravestones, and the sun is going down, making the already dark day even darker. Shadows stretch and fill up the empty space until I’m squinting to see through the dusk.
The drizzle turns to full on rain. A shiver works its way over my skin, causing my scalp to prickle.
I feel like I’m not alone. Like there are eyes on me, watching me.
Definitely not creepy.
Don’t be silly, Ro. You are totally alone. Your imagination is getting away from you.
Then again, I could be wrong.
There’s movement in front of me, a dark figure moving through the headstones.It’s nothing, I tell myself. This is a public space, and it’s just someone coming to pay their respects to the dead. Or someone who works here. Or someone who’s using the cemetery as a shortcut like I was.
Still, I stand up, ready to run if needed, my instincts telling me something is off. My time at the university has definitely made me paranoid.
The figure is heading right toward me and, as I watch, they pick up speed, from a walk to a jog to a sprint. Fear cramps my stomach and I take a step back, preparing to spin and run, even as my gaze focusing on him.
“Ro!” He calls out just as I recognize the figure.
“Hardin?” I regain the ground I lost, moving toward him.
Pain explodes across the back of my skull, making me stumble forward into a stone bench. I just barely catch myself to prevent my face from smashing into the sharp edge of the seat. But then fingers tangle in my hair and pull me up and back, across the gazebo, away from Hardin. An arm bands around my stomach, pulling me against a chest and lifting me totally off the ground.
I scream and kick my feet, my fingers digging into the band of muscle around me, but it doesn’t let me go. “Let me go!” I screech as I’m carried across the gazebo, legs kicking and arms flailing, and out onto the grass. Rain pelts down at me, soaking us both in an instant and making my fingers slip on skin.
