Tommy advanced through the diner.
Caddy stumbled over a spilled ketchup bottle, dropping her bag of provisions. Apples and oranges and cans rolled across the tile. She cried out as her hip banged against one of the stools, and she struggled to maintain her balance.
Dammit.
It was too late. The food she’d scavenged was gone. Caddy skirted toward the end of the counter, dodging a host of debris. She’d almost made it when a hand latched onto the back of her shirt.
She ripped free and swung around to face her attacker.
Tommy was almost on top of her. His eyes—formerly deep and blue—were now an inky shade of black. It’d been years since she’d spoken to him, but she’d seen him working at his father’s hardware store. She tried to remember the last conversation they’d had, but drew a blank.
Did it even matter anymore?
Caddy withdrew her knife. Tommy pawed the air, testing the waters. Caddy inched backward, trying to gauge the distance behind her. If she made a break for the counter, he’d catch her.
She couldn’t risk it. She had to stand and fight.
She studied the man—creature—in front of her. Tommy was over six feet tall and weighed about two hundred pounds. There was no way she could knock him off-balance. She could come at him with the knife, but if she missed…
The creature swung.
His arm came within inches of her, and Caddy barely ducked the blow. She stumbled backward, fumbling with the tops of the barstools. Tommy was off-balance. Go. Go.
Caddy fled deeper into the diner. Glass and food crunched under her shoes. She leapt over a carcass on the floor. In no time she’d maneuvered around the counter, heading for the open door that led to the back room.
The place where she’d left her boss’s body.
But there was no time to think about that now. Caddy could only run. Run and hide and try to stay alive.
She whipped through the doorway, Tommy right behind her, and tried to slam it shut. The wood crashed into his bulky frame, splintering and cracking under his weight.
So much for keeping him out.
The back room was a mess of shelves and condiments, most of which she’d knocked over during her last shift. Underneath one of them was the body of Darlene Tanner, the head waitress. The woman’s body had started to decompose, filling the air with the fetid odor of her flesh. Caddy’s eyes watered at the sight and smell.
The rear door was twenty feet away. To Caddy’s dismay, it was closed.
Even if she were to make a break for it, she’d have to contend with shelves and debris. There was no time. She pedaled backward, watching her attacker.
Tommy sprang. This time, there was no dodging him.
The young man crashed into her, taking her to the floor. His breath hit her like a tidal wave—a mix of salt and sand and sewage. His teeth clicked and clacked, his hands burrowed into her clothing. She clung to her knife, fighting for leverage, using both hands and feet to ward him off.
She’d been in a similar position with him in high school—on the night they’d shared conversation and a kiss—but back then, the situation had been different. At the time she’d been enamored with the high school track star. He’d been a senior and she’d been a junior; he’d been popular, while she’d barely been noticed. They’d been flirting for weeks in class, and after several awkward conversations, he’d invited her to watch his practice.
They’d been sitting on the bleachers at Chester High when it happened. Caddy had spent the last few hours cheering from the sidelines while Tommy had stolen glances at her from the field. By the time they’d sat together on the stands, shortly after everyone else had gone home, there was no doubt in her mind that he was going to kiss her.
The attention had made her feel special and wanted, the opposite of the way she’d felt for most of her life.
The opposite of the way she felt now.
Tommy’s body stank of garbage, and his weight was like an anvil threatening to crush her. Caddy bucked and writhed, doing everything in her power to break free.
“Get off me!” she shouted.
If Tommy understood her, he made no effort to comply.
With both of her arms pinned, she was helpless. Tommy leaned closer, mouth inches from her face, preparing to bite.
Come on, Caddy!
She pushed with all her strength.
Mercifully, her right arm—the one that held the knife—slid free, and she reared back and jabbed it into Tommy’s ribcage. The creature wheezed and thrashed on top of her.
Caddy continued to stab him. Once. Twice. Three times. With each blow, his grip weakened. Finally, she slid out from beneath him.
Tommy remained on the ground, fluid leaking from his wounds, but he showed no signs of pain. After a few seconds, he clambered to his knees, hissing and spitting, repositioning for attack.
Caddy couldn’t allow that. With a feral cry—one she hardly recognized as her own—she leapt up and plunged the blade into the top of his skull.
Tommy Prentiss faltered, then sank to the floor.
He hadn’t been that great a kisser, anyway.