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by streetlights.

Rick almost fell asleep twice. In between, he fidgeted with the vents because it was something to do. Eventually, he hooked his phone up to the stereo, turned the volume almost all the way down, and fired up a Spotify playlist. It started with a modern remix of an Elvis song.

“A little less conversation, a little more action,” sang the King of Rock ’n’ Roll. Right now, Rick would have settled for either one.

When his head lolled forward and he instinctively jerked it back for the third time, jolting himself out of sleep, he saw what he had been waiting for.

A window on the second floor slid open. A figure crawled out of it onto a narrow overhang. It had to be Alice. He had assumed she had permission to attend the concert and thus had expected to see her walk right out the front door.

Alice remained on all fours, crawling backwards to the edge of the roof, then slowly lowering herself over. She hung there for several seconds, no doubt judging a fall that looked higher than it was, and dropped the last few feet to the ground.

While she was doing all this, a car rolled past and Rick leaned over into the passenger seat to make sure he wasn’t seen. The car was moving slow. Although, with its lights in his rearview mirror, he hadn’t gotten a good look at it when it had come up from behind, he didn’t think it was a coincidence that a car was coming down this quiet street at this time. When he rocked back up, he was certain it wasn’t.

The car was a white Volvo, exactly like the one Alice’s friend had been driving. It stopped in front of Alice’s house, she got in, and the car sped off.

Rick followed from a safe distance. He knew they were going to the Bowards Arena, so when they caught a light right before it turned red, he wasn’t worried he’d never find them again. But since he didn’t know where they would park or where they were seated, he also couldn’t let them get too far ahead.

When they got to the arena, he slipped on the same baseball cap he’d worn into the bank. The girls hung around outside near the ticket booth. They appeared to be texting their friends, trying to coordinate a place to meet. Like he had in the mall, Rick faked a phone call to look busy.

Concertgoers swarmed past. The delay made him nervous. He worried if he stood out here too long, Alice might notice him. Eventually, Rick’s nerves got the best of him and he headed for the nearest entrance.

It was a safe bet that this was where they would come in as well, Rick told himself. With a concession stand on the other side of the glass, he could continue to watch them from the line.

After Rick had learned Alice was going to the concert, he’d bought one of the few remaining tickets. It was a floor seat and expensive. The ticket had been delivered in digital form. A woman working the door scanned it and the scanner flashed green. She held out a hand, letting Rick know his next stop was the metal detector. He passed through without a hitch.

The line at the concession stand moved faster than he thought it would. He ordered nachos and took a seat on a bench. This was worse than sitting in the car.

When Alice’s friends arrived, the group hugged and chatted for a few minutes before making their way inside. Rick watched them figure out which direction they needed to go and dropped his head when they walked past, using the cap’s bill to hide his face. He threw his remaining nachos into the trash can and wiped his hands on his jeans, glad to once again be on the move.

This will all be over soon, he thought. It couldn’t happen fast enough.

He followed the teenagers through a gate where an usher checked their tickets. This gate, however, was not Rick’s. The usher told him to go to D3. Rick apologized for the mistake and stepped out of line, keeping an eye on the teenagers as long as he could without arousing suspicion.

He went to Gate D3 and, once beyond the final ticket check, began working his way through the crowd back to where he’d last seen Alice. With only a small portion of the arena to search, finding them wasn’t too hard. He ascended the stairs, going straight past them and then several rows higher. He found an empty seat at the end of an aisle.

Rick watched Alice and her friends closely. They joked, laughed, took pictures together. He didn’t like being here. He didn’t like what Liam had turned him into. But he took some comfort in the knowledge that what would happen next—all of it—was Liam’s fault.

Liam Parker

A taxi dropped Liam off in front a squat brick building. A knee-high iron gate surrounded a patch of grass in front of it. To the side, a short flight of steps led down to a stone patio. Ava had said Rick lived in the basement unit. He asked the cab to wait for him, then took the steps down to the patio. The door to the unit was ajar, the window beside it smashed in. The second and only other window was also open.

Apparently, Liam wasn’t the only one interested in finding Rick. He wondered if someone had beaten him to it. Still, he hadn’t come all this way for nothing. He glanced at the dead fern in the corner and gently pushed the door open farther. “Hello? Anyone here?”

Silence.

He stepped inside. The heater was working, but it wasn’t much warmer in here than it was outside. He zipped up his army jacket. The place was trashed. Every cabinet in the kitchen was open. Every drawer had been pulled out. The couch and TV stand were turned over. Broken dishes, takeout cartons, junk mail, and

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