I was alone on the path almost exactly where the first runner’s body had been found a few days earlier. Evidently, Ben was deaf or was scared that I was the killer, because he didn’t respond to me. For a moment, the wind died. My ears perked up. They picked up the ever so faint sound of rustling. Instinct guided me in the direction of the sound. I watched my steps very carefully.

“Ben, are you okay?” I bellowed, a moment before I entered the trees. Once I stepped in, darkness shrouded me. The moon’s shadows danced between the ghost-like branches of the wood. The situation was definitely getting creepy. A faint rustle started and stopped, started and stopped. I tiptoed in that direction, ever leery of things.

Ice filled my veins in an instant. Steps moved toward me. I ducked behind a larger tree. To call out or not to call out? My fingers fumbled for some form of defense. They instinctually worked their way down to where I kept my keys.

The steps continued to crunch in my direction. It was obvious that if Ben had been trying to hide himself through his silence, he had not thought about the noise he made with his feet. A silhouette shadow flashed in front of me. My hand rose up out of the pocket. My movement must have been noticed. The steps stopped. I didn’t dare let out a breath.

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