She studies me like she doesn’t quite buy it, then glances back at her phone. “Okay, well, I called the restaurant. I guess they are closing soon, so they couldn’t get an order in for us.”
“Damn.” I blow out a slow breath. “Well, we can do Chipotle if you’re good with that.”
“Chipotle sounds delicious.” Tessa smiles. I try to match it despite the continued uneasiness I’m feeling.
We angle toward the underpass. The road above hums with steady traffic, and the tunnel drops in front of us, long and low—the lights along the ceiling stutter in a few places. I sigh and grip the straps of my bag tightly as we walk through the underpass. Our steps echo off the concrete. A car crosses above, and the sound rolls through the passage like a wave.
I keep glancing at the openings at either end, counting breaths, counting seconds.
We pop out the far side and jog to the crosswalk. The Highland Avenue structure rises in tiers of concrete, open railings along each level, stairs spiral upwards at the corners, and elevators in glass shafts on both ends. The ground floor is mostly empty now, save for a few cars.
I jab the call button and rock on my heels as we wait. Tessa is still going on about something, but it’s all noise. My focus is tuned in to everything else around me: the crickets, the sounds of cars rolling past, sirens wailing in the distance. I’m still uneasy and can still feel the sensation that someone is watching me. After what feels like a damn lifetime, the elevator dings and the metal doors slide apart. We step in. The panel light for “3” gives a tired glow when I press it. The car hums and lurches when it starts its ascent. My reflection stares back at me in the warped stainless steel wall—eyes too wide, mouth a hard line. I blink and force my shoulders down.
When the doors part on the third floor, the level is almost bare—just a few scattered cars, the concrete lanes yawning between them. Night presses in from the open sides. I step out and drift toward the waist-high wall, that same bad feeling tugging me forward like a hook in my ribs.
“Keys,” Tessa says behind me. “Where’d you—Rae?”
“Hang on.”
I plant my palms on the rough concrete and lean over, peering down to the ground floor. The area around the entrance isn’t well lit, but it’s enough that I can still make out that someone is down there.
He stands just beyond the mouth of the garage, centered in the gap. All black. Face hidden behind a white mask that erases everything human.
He’s already looking up at me.
Waiting.
My stomach drops. For a second, I can’t pull air.
His hand lifts, metal glinting in the light as he gives me a slow, almost friendly wave. It’s then that I catch what he’s waving. The metal takes shape as the light whispers over it. He’s waving a knife, taunting me.
“Tessa!” I call, turning towards her. She stops a few feet ahead, her face contorting into confusion.
She’s a few steps ahead and whirls around, confused. “What are you?—”
“Someonewasfollowing me,” I choke out.
“What do you mean someone was following you?”
“Look for yourself,” I say, pointing down below.
She comes to the wall, frowns, and leans over with me. “There’s no one there, babe.”
I blink and snap my head back. The space below is empty. No mask. No figure. Noknife.
“The fuck do you mean there’s no one there?” I mutter, looking below again. “I swear to God he was just there.”
“What did you see?” she asks, her tone soft.
“Someone in black clothes and a white mask. He was just standing there, looking up at me, and then he waved his knife at me.” I scan below, looking at every corner I can see. I shift my gaze towards the stairs, run over to them, and peer over the railing. Nothing. “I know he was there. I’m not crazy.”
Tessa checks again, slower, eyes working corner to corner. “I believe you saw what you did,” she says, when I rejoin her side. “He’s probably hiding somewhere you can’t see.” I nod as I peer over the wall again. “You should definitely tell Emilio. He’ll want to know.”
“I will.” I peel away from the wall, every nerve burning. The empty space where he’d been feels worse than if he were still there. At least then I’d know where he was.
Tessa hooks her arm in mine, and we move quickly towards my Kia. I shove my hand into my purse and yank it out, metal clicking against each other as my hands fumble with the fob. The lock chirp echoes too loudly off the concrete. I hand the key to Tessa, and we slide in fast, doors slamming. I thumb the lock button twice and keep my eyes on the open side of the level.Nothing moves. Tessa’s hands are tight on the wheel even before the engine turns over.
Tessa pulls toward the exit, checking mirrors, checking again. I stare out over the edge until the sightline breaks and the ground level drops out of view. Only then do I let a breath fall out of me.
