CHAPTER 14

Marcus felt like he had wandered a thousand miles. He was dead tired, and he cursed his insomnia. Murderous officers of the law hunted him. He knew that they couldn’t allow him to live and that they wouldn’t stop until they found him.

He pressed on down the deserted highway. The night consumed everything around him, and the lonely stretch of road seemed to continue on forever, trailing off into oblivion. He felt like the lone survivor of the apocalypse, navigating his way to a destination that no longer existed in a futile attempt to find a lost loved one who had died in the cleansing fires that had marked the end of all things.

By the light of the moon, it seemed as if he had stepped into a different dimension. The very terrain seemed to have taken on a life of its own, and in his eyes, it appeared to hold dark and menacing intent. The darkness seemed to swirl and undulate like a ravenous animal waiting to devour his soul. The darkness was everywhere, surrounding him, creeping inside his heart, beckoning him to abandon hope and sleep forever.

He didn’t know where he was going, or what he would do when he got there. All he knew was that he needed to get as far away from Asherton as possible.

His first thought was to walk to the next town, hiding every time a car approached. He felt that not being able to see who was approaching in the oncoming vehicles would put him in a vulnerable position and make hitchhiking a dangerous proposition. Hiding wasn’t a viable option, however, since the sporadic patches of vegetation checkered along the roadside didn’t provide enough cover.

He didn’t relish the prospect of hitchhiking, but other than grand theft auto, it was his quickest option. Plus, he hadn’t taken the first road that he came to. In fact, he hadn’t taken the second. He had decided on the third road, in hopes of throwing off his pursuers. As such, he concluded that he would be better off to take his chances with whatever vehicle came along.

He pressed on, trying to plan out his next move. It was his nature to deal with a situation using instinctual reactions rather than planned movements. This time, however, was a different situation. He needed a well-laid plan if he was going to get out of this alive.

Cold, gray clouds loomed overhead like the petty demigods of some ancient civilization, looking down on the toils and triumphs of mortal men. He could almost feel their gaze upon him, allies of the darkness attempting to wear down his resolve. The dark clouds drifted and flowed in the sea of space. From time to time, they eclipsed the moon and extinguished the last surviving light.

Then, a light born not of nature lit the landscape and stung his eyes as they hurried to adjust. A vehicle approached, a car from the look of it.

He had hoped that the first vehicle he saw would be a semi-truck. He knew the Sheriff wouldn’t be coming after him in a semi, and he guessed that his chances of being picked up by a burly truck driver far outweighed the prospects of being aided by a single mom in a station wagon.

The car stopped about twenty to twenty-five feet from where he stood. He felt his heart sink and his adrenaline level rise as he noticed the red and blue lights mounted on the cop car’s roof.