Your Turn to Suffer Tim Waggoner (online e book reading .TXT) 📖

the gas while debating with himself, but now that he’d made his decision, he increased pressure on the accelerator and his car began to pick up speed. He saw something out of the corner of his eye then, and he reflexively turned to see what it was.

A woman, wearing jeans and a pale-blue sweatshirt, stood at the entrance to FoodSaver’s parking lot. At first, he thought she was waiting on someone to pick her up – a bus or an Uber – but then, for reasons he wasn’t quite clear on, he understood that she’d been waiting for him. He locked eyes with her, and for an instant, it was as if time came to a screeching halt. The woman was at least a dozen yards from him, but he saw her as if in close-up, every detail clear and vivid – especially her oddly shaped pupils. Her face was impassive, but there was something about her that spoke of grim purpose. And then, as quickly as time had slowed, it returned to normal speed.

He took his gaze off her, looked forward, and was startled to see a man standing on the road directly in his path. No, not a man. A shadowy thing shaped like a man. It had a head, torso, arms, and legs but otherwise was completely featureless: a silhouette come to life. It was tall, limbs long and lean, and it made him think of the way a person’s reflection could be stretched in the warped glass of a funhouse mirror. Neal didn’t have time to brake or swerve. All he could do was tighten his grip on the steering wheel and grit his teeth. He wanted to close his eyes – wanted to do this very much – but they remained open as he struck the dark figure.

Except he didn’t.

There was no sudden jolt, no horrible meaty thump of his Volvo hitting whatever it was. He saw a flash of darkness rushing toward him, felt a blast of cold course over and through his body, and then he was past the shadow thing. He looked at his rearview mirror and saw the creature – whatever it was – standing on the street behind him, seemingly unharmed.

He passed through me, Neal thought. Or I passed through him.

The cold he’d felt…. That had been the instant his body had come into contact with the shadow’s substance. Somehow the thing was insubstantial enough to pass through glass and metal but still solid enough to affect him as it moved through him. He wondered how—

Pain slammed into his chest with sledgehammer force. His left arm stiffened and went numb, and his left hand slipped off the steering wheel. He couldn’t breathe, and his vision narrowed to tiny pinpoints of light surrounded by darkness. Without realizing he was doing so, he pressed the accelerator all the way to the floor, and his right hand – which had a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel – turned hard to the left. His Volvo swerved into oncoming traffic, and the driver of a white pickup gave an angry blast of the vehicle’s horn as Neal cut in front of it. Neal missed colliding with the pickup by less than a foot, and his Volvo bounced over the curb, went over the sidewalk, and roared into FoodSaver’s parking lot, continuing to pick up speed as it went.

Neal was in agony, teeth gritted, lower lip caught between them, flesh bitten, blood pouring out of his mouth. But a part of him was detached from the pain, was merely observing what was happening, not scared so much as confused. He’d had a checkup less than a month ago, and the doctor had said he was in good shape for a man of his age, and she’d said his heart sounded strong and healthy. But if what the doctor had told him was true, how could this be happening? It took more than a few weeks to develop heart disease, didn’t it?

He saw another woman, this one wearing a blue uniform top and carrying a small bag of groceries. He was heading straight for her, and she turned to look at him, her expression one of terrified disbelief.

Toilet paper, he thought. I’m supposed to get toilet paper.

* * *

Lori was two-thirds of the way to her car when the sounds of a blaring car horn and screeching tires caught her attention. She looked toward the street, expecting to see an accident take place, most likely involving someone who was about to discover why it wasn’t advisable to ride another driver’s ass during rush hour. But instead of witnessing one vehicle rear- end another, she saw a Volvo swerve into FoodSaver’s parking lot and come barreling toward her, engine racing.

It’s not going to stop, she thought. This realization was devoid of emotion at first, as if what was happening was no more remarkable than her noting it might rain soon. But this emotional numbness lasted only for a second before panic exploded inside her. Her body wanted to freeze, to remain motionless in the hope that the car would miss her, like a small animal in the presence of a larger, hungry predator. It was the hardest thing she’d ever done, but with an effort of will, she made her body move. She was closest to the row of cars on her right, and while their shelter tempted her, if the Volvo slammed into the vehicles, she might be caught between two of them and squashed like an oversized bug. Instead, she ran toward the vehicles on her left. They were farther away, but the Volvo was angled to her right, and as fast as the vehicle was going, the driver would, most likely, end up striking one or more of the cars in that direction. So left it was. She ran all out, adrenaline flooding her system and providing her with strength and speed.

She caught a glimpse of the driver as she ran in front of