Status Updates From Night of the Prowler

“You shouldn’t have come here.”

Zoe dropped the phone again. Her mind was racing at a thousand thoughts per minute. And fear was venom to rational thoughts. Fear—true, unadulterated fear—turned modern humans to troglodytes, replacing centuries of progress with the most primitive survival instincts. Death was not an option.

As if nothing had happened, he strolled through Silent Haven’s dirt paths with a scarecrow’s mask over his head and a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. He threw the bag in the back seat of the pickup truck before driving away. He made a U-turn and started heading back to Hanson’s Fuel Center.

The Prowler laughed, then he said, “It’s funny in a way, isn’t it? Your name will live on forever because of me. By killing you, I’m making you immortal. I’m very generous, aren’t I?”

While traversing the cornfield, he came across a scarecrow. He was attracted to its tattered burlap mask. He took the scarecrow’s mask off and tossed the hood over his head to hide his identity. Only his amber irises glowed through the mask’s eye holes. Holding the pickaxe against his shoulder, he continued his trek through the cornfield.

She didn’t mind working the night shift with Collin or Randy or anyone else thanks to the surveillance cameras at the gas station. She was confident her coworkers wouldn’t hurt her while under surveillance. But dealing with strangers was different. Some people didn’t care about surveillance cameras. And some people liked to be watched when they prowled.

What just happened? We just went from 0 to 100 real quick.

Um, so that happened.