Chapter 1
The petrol bowsers stood idle as I pulled in to the service station. Old and rundown, with “Out of Order” signs on half the pumps, most people bypassed it in favour of the bright and gleaming service stations closer to the centre of town. But it was the only one in Easton that sold my favourite peppermints, Oddfellows, so I was a regular customer. I’d cut short my usual Thursday night study session at the university library, unable to deny my cravings any longer.
A cool wind snaked around my ankles as I got out of the car and I shivered, rubbing the goose bumps that appeared on my arms. The fluorescent light over the entrance flickered, doing little to dispel the shadows in the carpark. I headed for the door as a truck pulled into the drive-through behind me, the rumble of its engine making my ears vibrate.
Inside the service station, I took a breath to clear the scent of diesel. After I’d ransacked the lolly stand, I went to the wooden counter and placed the peppermints in front of the elderly owner with a sheepish smile. He’d teased me before about my Oddfellows fetish and I expected more of the same as he rang up the sale on a cash register I suspected was even older than he was.
I heard the scrape of the main door as it opened and closed behind me. The owner slid his eyes towards the door and then glanced back at me—a scurrying glance like a mouse aware he’s been seen by the hawk. I had enough time to read the terror and desperation in his faded blue eyes before he clutched his chest and collapsed behind the counter.
A heavy weight dropped onto my shoulder, fingers digging into my collar bone, spinning me around. I reeled and caught a flash of scuffed work boots and denim jeans marked with black grease. My hands shook as I gazed into the eyes of the man who stood before me.
Blood dripped down the side of his face as he struggled to open his mouth.
‘Run,’ he said, spittle spraying his lips.
Movement exploded from behind him. I caught a glimpse of a dark figure and tried to run, but the dark figure lunged for me, grabbing my hair, twisting the long strands around his fist.
He swung me around until I stood face to face with him. Then he shoved a large knife into my stomach. Pain tore through me. I screamed, dropping my money and keys as I clawed at him, clutching at his clothes. He slammed his head into mine. Pain exploded through my nose and eyes. I sagged, only his grip on my hair keeping me standing.
I heard a sickening sucking sound as he withdrew the knife from my stomach. Waves of agony flooded my body. I screamed again. He stabbed me in the chest, the impact punching away my voice. I gasped, staring into eyes as brown as mine. All I could hear was my own panting as he lowered me to the floor.
Fire blazed in my midsection. My scalp throbbed where he had ripped away the hair. My mind drifted with the pain. I fought against its pull. I had to stay awake. I had to get away. I struggled to get up but he put a knee on my chest, pushing me back to the floor. Then he used the tip of the b****y knife to brush my long fringe out of my eyes.
His face was pale, covered with mottled blotches like bruised fruit, unnatural, freaky, like one of the zombies in the horror movies my boyfriend Logan insisted I watch with him.
Zombies weren’t real, couldn’t be real, but this monster was.
No emotion lit his dead eyes as he gripped the knife with both hands and brought it down.
Pain engulfed me, radiating outwards, burning through my body, scouring the air from my lungs, and smothering my screams. His weight shifted and he leaned over me, pushing the knife in deeper. Pain vanished as darkness swallowed me whole.