To support Elana Johnson and her debut novel Possession, I'm participating in a blog tour about the first time I broke the rules.
I stand crouched, hiding behind a stack of boards next to a partially constructed house. My breath is coming gasps, difficult to control. But I must control them, otherwise he will find me.
I can't believe he chased me. What I did was innocent enough and certainly didn't warrant this cat and mouse game in the darkness. A friend is in the basement of the empty house just a few feet away. He's peering out of what will be a window but is now just an empty hole. We both listen, dreading the sound of our pursuer's footsteps.
Whether my patience gives out or I think I'm safe I don't know, but I take off running. My friend can hear my soft footfalls retreating but also the heavier tread of our pursuer behind me. I hear nothing. After about thirty yards, I make it to the back of a pickup and hurdle the tailgate.
"Go, Dad, go," I yell to the driver. He takes off. It's house number three on our doorbell ditching night.