Page 10 of Hide and Seek
I don’t know if it’s just a Boone House thing, but people here aren’t all that friendly. There’s always some sort of drama between students trying to establish their own hierarchy of who’s more important when we’re all just a bunch of newbs whose parents recently came into money, and it’s frankly sad that so many people here define themselves by what their parents or forefathers have achieved.
Thankfully the stairs are empty as I rush up to the top floor, and I’m able to slip into my room without having to deal with anyone.
Most of the rooms on the third floor are vacant, and the only other students up here are all in their final year. My original room was on the first floor next to the main entrance, but I switched myself to this room as soon as I got my room assignment. There was no way in hell I was spending my freshman year living among the chaos and crowds, and thanks to my computer skills and recluse tendencies, no one questioned how I got a room up here when all the other freshmen are on the first floor.
Once I’m in my room, I put my books on my dresser and head over to my desk to see if any of the scans and diagnostics I set up before I left have come up with anything.
I’ve spent the last few months scouring the internet and the dark web, searching for the original source and any copies of a video file that could destroy my family. But since I have no idea who created it or who has the original, it’s like searching for a needle in a pile of needles. Every attempt so far has come up blank, but I refuse to give up and won’t stop looking until I find it and destroy it.
The other annoying as fuck thing about the past week is that I’m no closer to finding out who broke into my system—or why. I know whoever it is used the backdoor I placed in the code of a job I did for the guys who were blackmailing me, but they’re damn good at covering their tracks, and every lead I’ve found to trace them has brought me to a dead end.
It's not often that I come up against someone who can match my skills, and being dogwalked by the very hacker I invited into my system is pissing me off more than anything has in a long time.
“Of fucking course,” I mutter as I filter through the scans. As usual, they didn’t pick up anything.
Instead of starting another round of scans, I pull off my sweater and toss it onto my bed.
I’ve been restless since I woke up this morning, and I’m getting antsy. The only thing that helps when I’m like this is going for a run.
It doesn’t take long to change into my running gear, and I take a few minutes to do some stretching while I’m still in my room so I don’t start my run cold.
Once I’m loosened up, I grab a water bottle and tuck it into the back of my running belt, then put my keys and ID in the pouch that sits over the small of my back.
When I’m all set, I head downstairs. Instead of using the main door, I slip out the back one to avoid my dormmates.
The school has several tracks and a maze of paths snaking through the campus that are awesome for running, but I prefer to use a path in the woods I found while I was doing some exploring during my first week here.
I have no idea how long the path has been there or who made it, but it’s the only place I feel comfortable running on campus. I hate the tracks because they’re always crowded, no matter what time it is, and there’s nothing appealing about running through groups of students as they meander through campus.
I run to escape, and I can’t do that if I’m constantly worried about bumping into people or adjusting my speed based on what others are doing. I’m also one of those people who gets irrationally angry at slow walkers and people who take up the entire sidewalk or path when I’m just walking around, so it’s better to avoid everyone when I run.
Pausing at the edge of the woods, I take a few seconds to stretch out my quads and hamstrings again. I usually try to get at least a short run in five days a week, but with all the drama of getting hacked and finding out that I might finally be free from blackmail, I’ve only managed to get out a few times since that night.
I’m just finishing up my stretches when the hair on the back of my neck stands up again, and I unconsciously glance around. There’s nothing and no one around, but that feeling of being watched only intensifies as I cut through the tree line and walk about ten feet into the woods to the path.
That feeling is still there as I start running, and it only gets stronger as I follow the path away from my building. I do my best to ignore it and focus on my run, but it’s impossible to shake the niggling awareness that’s become my constant companion as I gradually speed up my steps until I’m running at my usual pace.
The heavy thud of my footfalls and the crunch of leaves and snapping of twigs under my feet is loud around me, and I have to remind myself that I’m still on campus and there’s a shit ton of people walking around less than twenty feet to my right.
I keep that thought in the back of my mind as I force myself to focus on my run and where I’m putting my feet. The uneven ground, with its little hills and dips, makes the run more challenging, and the mess of obstacles I have to either jump over or duck under adds another layer to the challenge.
The last thing I need is to smash my head on a low-hanging branch or trip over a fallen log because I’m too busy freaking out over an imaginary stalker to pay attention to where I’m going.
Usually it only takes me a few minutes to get into a groove, but I’m still distracted when I reach the four-mile mark and do a quick pivot so I can head back to my dorm.
I’m about halfway back when something out of the corner of my eye ducks behind a large tree to my left.
I’m so shocked I nearly trip over a raised root in the ground. Was that a person?
What the hell?
Is someone actually watching me and I’m not crazy?
I’m not subtle as I scan the woods to my left, searching for any sign that someone is there and it’s not just my scrambled brain playing tricks on me. I don’t see anything, but that doesn’t mean no one’s there.
Fear and dread settle over me, and I pick up the pace, running far faster than is safe as I try to put as much distance between me and whatever the fuck I saw.
My lungs are burning, and my legs are tight as I practically sprint toward my building, but there’s an undercurrent of something beneath the fear that makes my heart race for reasons that have nothing to do with exertion.
