Nebraska Center for Writers

by Catherine Schuett

DEBORAH LOOKED OUT THE WINDOW again all appeared calm. She walked over to the front desk and pulled opened the top drawer, inside laid a can of mace. She grabbed the can they kept for emergencies and headed out the front door.
Outside the gym the burnt out light above the entrance made it very dark and eerie. Deborah jotted down a mental note to stop by the store on the way home and purchase a replacement bulb. She locked the door and stopped short at a sound she heard from around the side of the building. She jumped back and looked around, but she could not see a thing.
Deborah sighed, "Come on, calm down, you are acting like a fool."
She stepped back to the door and made sure it secured, then took off running down the street toward her car. Once at her vehicle, she quickly glanced around while trying to unlock the door. She fumbled to put the key into the lock. Her nerves on edge and her fear caused Deborah to be clumsy. She dropped her keys.
Bending down to pick them up, Deborah froze for out of the corner of her eye, lurched the gray car. It silently crawled from around the corner and came to a stop at the end of the street. With its headlights off, the vehicle sat perched as if ready to pounce on its unassuming prey. Deborah's breathing stopped, her heart sunk. In an instant the headlights flashed on and lit up her presence ...

Reprinted with permission
from The Ultimate Test
Copyright © 2002
by PublishAmerica

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The Rock

Nebraska Center for Writers