Shadows of Bloodline

Chapter 2: The watcher

Alex came out of the house with short gasps of breath. As he tried to figure out what had happened. According to the letter, his father was killed—murdered, if he was correct—and now his own life was in danger.

He glanced around, eyes scanning the shadows. He felt exposed, susceptible. The wind rustled the timber, and somewhere in the distance, a dog barked. However, the road changed into deserted. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that a person changed when looking at him.

He rushed to his car, fumbling for the keys. The letter warned him to leave. However, how? How does he want to? How ought he to run without knowing who had killed his father—and why? He had to realize what was occurring. He had to discover what his father had been hiding.

But as he slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine, a flash of motion in his rearview mirror made his blood run cold. Headlights flared to existence at the back of him, too near for comfort. Every other vehicle pulled out of the shadows, its lights blinding him.

Alex’s heart raced. The letter’s caution echoed in his mind: "agree with no one". Go away, Coldridge. They’re coming for you.

Without wondering, he floored the gas, speeding down the winding road that led out of town. The auto behind him accompanied him, matching his pace, its headlights growing larger in the mirror. Panic surged in Alex’s chest. He needed to lose them.

He took a sharp left, heading deeper into the forested outskirts of Coldridge. The street narrowed, branches scraping against the sides of his car; however, the car at the back of him stayed close. It's too near.

Alex's breath came in sharp gasps as he held onto the steering wheel and accelerated the vehicle. He just missed a tree as he swerved around a corner, the tires screeching. But still, the opposite car followed.

Who had they been? What did they want?

He had no time to think. Up ahead, the street breaks up into. Alex veered properly, taking the narrower direction that led deeper into the woods. The bushes closed in around him, their branches forming a cover that blocked out the moonlight. The opposite vehicle hesitated at the fork, then followed, its headlights slicing through the darkness.

Alex’s pulse pounded in his ears. He couldn’t keep this up. He had to do something—something—to get away.

Then he saw it: a slender dust path branching off from the main road, slightly visible in the darkness. Without hesitation, Alex yanked the wheel, his vehicle bumping and jostling as it veered onto the route. The headlights in the back of him swerved but didn’t observe.

Alex didn’t stop. He drove deeper into the woods until the car sputtered to a halt in a small clearing. He killed the engine and sat there, his hands shaking at the wheel, his breath coming in brief gasps.

For a protracted moment, there was the simplest silence. Then, slowly, Alex set free a breath.

Whoever had been following him was gone.