Chapter 3

5 AM. I had to pull into a rest stop.

By now, Buddy was fully recovered.

He hopped out of the car easily and drank some water. Looked tired but otherwise normal.

Exhaustion hit me like a tidal wave.

I dozed in the driver's seat for two hours.

But just as I was about to start the engine again—

A familiar black sedan screeched to a stop right in front of me, blocking my exit completely.

The sound of brakes woke half the rest stop.

Then Mark stepped out of the car.

Two of his built friends climbed out behind him.

His eyes were bloodshot. Stubble shadowed his jaw.

He looked exhausted and unhinged.

"Amy, get OUT of the car!"

He pounded on my window like he wanted to shatter the glass.

Blood rushed to my head.

He'd tracked me through the car's GPS.

I locked the doors. Gripped the steering wheel:

"Mark, I'm NOT going back with you!"

I shouted through the glass.

"I don't have TIME for this!"

Mark turned to the crowd of onlookers gathering around:

"Please, someone help! My wife has severe paranoid delusions—she thinks the dog is her child and she's running away from home!"

"She's mentally unstable right now. I need to take her back for treatment!"

Rest stop crowds love drama.

Several people moved closer, pointing and whispering.

"Poor thing looks normal, but I guess her brain's fried."

"Just go home with your husband, hon. Stop making a scene."

"Can't have kids so she's obsessed with the dog... that's sad."

Mark's friends pulled out a rope.

They were seriously planning to tie me up like I was insane.

"I'm NOT crazy!"

I shoved the car door open, holding up my phone:

"Mark, you touch me and I'm calling the cops!"

"You don't have to come with me—that's your life, your choice. But don't you DARE stop me!"

"Or I'll report you for kidnapping!"

Mark pointed at Buddy in the backseat. His eyes full of confusion and pain:

"You'd have me arrested? Over a dog?"

While I was distracted, he yanked open the back door and grabbed for Buddy:

"Maybe if I get rid of this thing, you'll snap out of it!"

Buddy jerked away. A guttural growl erupted from his throat.

His reflexes were sharp now—teeth locked onto Mark's watchband.

"You little shit! You're BITING me?!"

Mark flung his arm violently.

I screamed and lunged forward with pepper spray, shielding Buddy:

"BACK OFF! He's trying to save your LIFE! He's saving US!"

"That city isn't safe anymore—that whole city has a problem!"

Chaos erupted.

Mark pinned me against the car door.

His strength was terrifying. I couldn't breathe.

"Amy, LOOK!"

He pointed toward the horizon where the sun was rising:

"That City is FINE! It's 5:30 AM—people are out jogging right now!"

"Nothing happened! When are you going to stop this?"

I looked toward the distance.

He was right. Dawn was breaking.

Everything looked perfectly calm.

The crowd murmured.

For a moment, I doubted myself.

Had my instincts been wrong?

But then I looked down at Buddy.

He was still crouched under the seat. Teeth chattering. Fur standing on end.

Eyes locked northwest.

No. Impossible.

Buddy's terror was identical to what I'd seen eighteen years ago.