a traffic light at the intersection of City Park Avenue and glanced at the dashboard clock. Ten past midnight. In five minutes she’d be home. She yawned, willing the light to change. This intersection was spooky at night, a cavernous underpass with massive concrete columns that supported the eight-lane Interstate overhead, and City Park Avenue was deserted. Not a single car passed through the intersection.
Headlights flashed in her rearview mirror.
The idiot had his high beams on. How rude.
Mercifully, the light changed. She turned left onto City Park Avenue, slowed for the next light to turn green and accelerated out of the dark underpass. The SUV followed, its headlights a blinding glare in the rearview of her Infiniti coupe as she drove along City Park Avenue, surrounded by cemeteries on both sides. New Orleans lay below sea level, so residents buried their loved ones above ground in crypts and mausoleums.
Cities of the Dead. A shiver danced down her spine.
Anxious to get home, she accelerated.
Behind her, the SUV matched her speed, an ominous presence. Blinded by the lights in her rearview, she glanced at her wing mirror. There were no cars behind the SUV. Why was it tailgating her?
A whisper of fear plinked her mind.
Delgado Community College appeared on her left. She rolled down the window, and hot humid air hit her face. In the daytime, students would be clustered outside the buildings or walking to their cars in the parking lot. Now the lot was empty, the buildings dark.
The SUV drew closer.
She hit the gas and her Infinity coupe spurted forward.
So did the SUV.
Her palms grew sweaty on the wheel and her neck corded with tension. To her left was the familiar sight of City Park where she went for her early morning runs, a sunny cheerful space with lush green grass and duck ponds, birds chirping from live oak trees and people walking their dogs.
Now it was pitch dark. She accelerated to fifty.
The SUV matched her speed.
She looked to her right. No help there, nothing but darkened homes, no porch lights, not even a car parked outside.
The sour taste of fear filled her mouth.
The SUV slammed her bumper.
Fear exploded into panic.
Her heart pounded like a sprinter nearing the finish line. She stomped the gas, and wind whipped through the window onto her face. The engine whined, matching the frantic thrash of her heart. The SUV remained inches from her bumper, its lights blinding her. She floored the accelerator, sweaty hands gripping the wheel, desperate to reach the safety of her house.
Desperate to escape the maniac in the SUV behind her.
The SUV rammed her car again and sat on the bumper, forcing her to go faster. Bile rose in her throat. This couldn’t be happening. Any second she would wake up, sweaty and terrified, safe in her own bed.
But this was no dream, this was real. A living nightmare.
The idiot would make her crash, like the drunk driver who’d killed her family. Tears burned her eyes. She would die in an accident like Blaine and her parents, die before her time, her life snuffed out just as her career began to blossom. Just as she’d always feared.
She stomped the brakes. Heard them screech against the wheels.
The car bucked, but didn’t slow down. The SUV backed off.
Her arms went weak with relief. She was safe.
No! Headlights glared in her rearview as SUV came at her again and hit her left bumper, pushing her toward the sidewalk.
She thought her heart would stop. She tried to turn the wheel.
Impossible. Panic sat on her chest like a grand piano, squeezing the air from her lungs. A light pole flashed by, then a fire hydrant.
A huge tree trunk loomed in front of her.
“No,” she screamed. “No, no, no.”
With a deafening bang and a bone-jarring impact, the car hit the tree, and her airbag deployed, hitting her face and chest, a one-two punch that drove her back against the seat.
Too stunned to move, she inhaled the sour stink of the airbag, heart pounding, unable to
Headlights flashed in her rearview mirror.
The idiot had his high beams on. How rude.
Mercifully, the light changed. She turned left onto City Park Avenue, slowed for the next light to turn green and accelerated out of the dark underpass. The SUV followed, its headlights a blinding glare in the rearview of her Infiniti coupe as she drove along City Park Avenue, surrounded by cemeteries on both sides. New Orleans lay below sea level, so residents buried their loved ones above ground in crypts and mausoleums.
Cities of the Dead. A shiver danced down her spine.
Anxious to get home, she accelerated.
Behind her, the SUV matched her speed, an ominous presence. Blinded by the lights in her rearview, she glanced at her wing mirror. There were no cars behind the SUV. Why was it tailgating her?
A whisper of fear plinked her mind.
Delgado Community College appeared on her left. She rolled down the window, and hot humid air hit her face. In the daytime, students would be clustered outside the buildings or walking to their cars in the parking lot. Now the lot was empty, the buildings dark.
The SUV drew closer.
She hit the gas and her Infinity coupe spurted forward.
So did the SUV.
Her palms grew sweaty on the wheel and her neck corded with tension. To her left was the familiar sight of City Park where she went for her early morning runs, a sunny cheerful space with lush green grass and duck ponds, birds chirping from live oak trees and people walking their dogs.
Now it was pitch dark. She accelerated to fifty.
The SUV matched her speed.
She looked to her right. No help there, nothing but darkened homes, no porch lights, not even a car parked outside.
The sour taste of fear filled her mouth.
The SUV slammed her bumper.
Fear exploded into panic.
Her heart pounded like a sprinter nearing the finish line. She stomped the gas, and wind whipped through the window onto her face. The engine whined, matching the frantic thrash of her heart. The SUV remained inches from her bumper, its lights blinding her. She floored the accelerator, sweaty hands gripping the wheel, desperate to reach the safety of her house.
Desperate to escape the maniac in the SUV behind her.
The SUV rammed her car again and sat on the bumper, forcing her to go faster. Bile rose in her throat. This couldn’t be happening. Any second she would wake up, sweaty and terrified, safe in her own bed.
But this was no dream, this was real. A living nightmare.
The idiot would make her crash, like the drunk driver who’d killed her family. Tears burned her eyes. She would die in an accident like Blaine and her parents, die before her time, her life snuffed out just as her career began to blossom. Just as she’d always feared.
She stomped the brakes. Heard them screech against the wheels.
The car bucked, but didn’t slow down. The SUV backed off.
Her arms went weak with relief. She was safe.
No! Headlights glared in her rearview as SUV came at her again and hit her left bumper, pushing her toward the sidewalk.
She thought her heart would stop. She tried to turn the wheel.
Impossible. Panic sat on her chest like a grand piano, squeezing the air from her lungs. A light pole flashed by, then a fire hydrant.
A huge tree trunk loomed in front of her.
“No,” she screamed. “No, no, no.”
With a deafening bang and a bone-jarring impact, the car hit the tree, and her airbag deployed, hitting her face and chest, a one-two punch that drove her back against the seat.
Too stunned to move, she inhaled the sour stink of the airbag, heart pounding, unable to
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