A loud thud-bump-thud made her freeze in mid motion. Her heart lodged in her throat as her gaze darted to the ceiling, tracking the noise. Something thumped across the roof.
“Mom?” Looking worried, Sam appeared in the hallway. “That man who was in my room must have come back. I think he’s on the roof.”
“No, Sam.” She hurried across the room to hug him. “That was a bad dream.” But she needed to make sure. The rational part of her insisted no sane person was shuffling around overhead. A tree branch must have fallen and gotten battered about in the wind. But the other part whispered the wind wasn’t strong enough to send something banging against the shingles.
“Stay here.” She headed for the closet, then snagged her jacket. A quick rummage through a box on the floor turned up a flashlight.
“Where are you going?” Sam appeared at her side as she tested the batteries. “You can’t go out there.” Her peered up at her, anxiety front and center as he twisted his hands together.
“Sam—”
Another thump-thump like something—or someone—heavy tramped about overhead. Katie swallowed her fear, refusing to let Sam see her growing alarm.
“What’s that noise?” he cried.
“Listen to me.” Bending, she gripped his shoulders. “It’s probably just a squirrel or a raccoon that got up on the roof.”
“But you don’t know that.” His voice cracked and his bottom lip quivered. “It’s the man again. You should call the police.”
“Sam, there is no man. You had a bad dream.”
“What about now?”
Standing, she zipped her jacket. “I’m going outside to look, just like I looked in your room last night. I want you to lock the door behind me and don’t open it until you hear me say everything’s okay.” She took his hand. “Can you do that?”
Wordlessly, he nodded.
“Good.” Katie smiled, hoping to put him at ease. Flicking on the flashlight, she opened the door and stepped outside. Sam immediately closed it behind her and snapped the lock into place.
The air was crisp, a cold wind rattling the trees closest to the house. As she walked into the yard, Katie spied a van parked several hundred feet down the street. Odd, but not alarming. Instead, she focused on the black, sloped shingles of the house. The trees were clustered close enough that any small animal could have scaled the branches and dropped onto the roof. By the same token, a man could too. The clatter she’d heard had been too heavy for a cat or squirrel but not a human.
As she stood debating the matter, the headlights on the van flared to life. Startled by the bright intrusion, she glanced over her shoulder. The van remained parked where it was, motor idling. A slug of foreboding oozed into her stomach. She knew most of her neighbors’ vehicles by sight, but this looked more like a work truck. A plain panel job like a utility company might use. In the darkness, she couldn’t see past the windshield and imagined the driver watching her.
Quickly, she switched off the flashlight and ducked beneath the trees, secreting herself in shadow. Cold sweat broke out on the back of her neck. She looked from the van to the roof. Did the driver have an accomplice who prowled around, waiting to signal an all clear?
The vehicle rolled slowly forward, small stones popping and crunching beneath its tires. Katie shivered, riveted to the spot by its sluggish advance. She should have listened to Sam and called the sheriff’s office.
Crouching beneath the shelter of a maple, she tried to make herself smaller. In the moonless dark, it was impossible to tell the vehicle’s true color. Dark blue? Green? Work van or not, there was no reason for anyone to be out in the middle of the night, surveying the empty road in front of her house. Her nearest neighbor lived around a bend, and the closest streetlamp was too far away to shed much light.
She bit her lip, mentally berating herself for getting trapped in a vulnerable position. If she dashed into the house and called for assistance, how quickly would a deputy respond?
Two seconds later, the van rolled to a complete stop. Still a good distance away, it squatted in the street, a plain square box with blazing eyes.
Waiting.
Katie counted to five. The wind tugged at her jacket, swirling beneath her collar. Abruptly, the van’s lights flicked off, plunging her into stifling darkness. Starlight barely defined the vehicle, the low rumble of the motor ominously loud in the stillness. She inhaled sharply, one hand pressed to the rough bark of the tree.
Go away. Go away.
The driver’s side door opened, the interior light briefly defining the shape of a man. The door clicked shut and the light winked out as a form stepped from the vehicle.
Every nerve in her body tensed for flight. If he advanced, she’d flee and lead the stranger from the house and Sam. Her only weapon was a flashlight, her neighbors too far away to hear her scream.
Her mouth was dry, her palms damp. A low-level hum washed over her. Faint at first, it swelled to an earsplitting cacophony. Something thumped across the shingles. Whomp! Whomp! Whomp!
Katie gasped, craning her neck to spy the source. An enormous shape swooped from the roof, a rapid-flash glimpse of something winged and gray. An otherworldly screech pierced the air, and in that quicksilver burst of time, terror engulfed her. A loud drone built in her head, threatening to burst her eardrums. Her knees quaked as the punishing flood of terror ratcheted higher, choking off all thought, all instinct. Sprawling face-first onto the grass, she covered her head with both arms.
Go away. Go away.
Paralyzed by fear, she prayed the thing wouldn’t see her.
The sudden squeal of tires sliced through her panic, wrenching her back to the present. Burning rubber and exhaust filled her nose. Blindly, she groped for the flashlight. She clamored to her feet in time to see the red-eyed wink of taillights disappear around the bend. The humming dwindled, then died altogether. Whatever she’d seen leap from the roof—whatever she thought she’d seen—was gone. Weak-kneed and shaken, she raced for the house.