Page 7 of Biker Boo
Or maybe it’s a psycho, and I’m being an idiot.Like the girls in horror movies.Horny, lonely girls who trust the wrong man.Girls who ignore the danger.The ones who check the basement.
I’m not sure which possibility scares me more.
I grab the flashlight from under the sink.My fingers shake a little, but not from fear.It’s adrenaline, or maybe something sicker.Something deeper.The truth is, I’m the girl who’d get killed right away.
I crack the door and step onto the porch.The wind carries the scent of wet leaves and wood smoke, maybe garbage burning.Somewhere in the distance, I hear fireworks or maybe gunshots.Around here, it's hard to tell.
“Who's there?”I call, voice shakier than I mean.
I don’t aim to sound scared.Mama always said, if you ain’t scared, nothin’ scary can happen.Not that I should listen to a woman six feet under.
“Hello?”I try again, steadier.
No answer.
I should go back inside.Lock the door.Call someone.
But I don't.
I step off the porch instead, in my bare feet, knowing how stupid it is.How will I be able to run?I guess some part of mewantsto be followed.Some part of mewantsto be caught.
It’s okay, I tell myself.Mr.Murder Man may not realize the soles of my feet are like leather, and I’ll surprise him.
I head toward the woods, slow and steady, flashlight bouncing off broken branches and beer cans, old tires and sun-bleached deer skulls.The woods aren’t deep, but they’re enough to get lost in if you're not careful.
I hear footsteps behind me.
Not animals.
Boots.
I turn and see him.
Standing ten feet away.
Tall.Wide.Wearing a black hoodie and a full-face horror mask, white with exaggerated features of a ghost, like that one movie.I almost laugh as my heart explodes in my chest.
I should run.
But I don’t.
I lift the flashlight and point it at him.“You think this is funny?”
He doesn’t move.
“What do you want?”
Just stands there, breathing like a monster in a slasher flick.
“What’s my line?”I try, snapping my fingers.“Who is this?”I whisper, thinking of the movie.
Still no answer.
“Aren’t you going to ask me about scary movies?”I say and laugh.
And then I do something really, really stupid.
I lunge forward.
