On the Verge (A Charmed Life Book 1) by Joseph Bonis Read Free Book Online Page B

past, not even glancing into the store.  Tracy let out a soft sigh of relief - it had been her imagination.
    “I'm afraid I can't let that cat in here,” said a quiet voice at her shoulder.  Tracy turned in surprise to see a young cashier, a high school boy.
    “Oh, sorry,” replied Tracy.  “I'll just be on my way, then.  Sorry.”
    Even though she logically could tell herself that it was all in her head, she couldn't help but think she could feel him, somewhere nearby, almost point to him.  She'd anticipated him showing up at the window, sure, but of course she'd seen how fast he'd been walking, and had subconsciously calculated it – no sense being ridiculous, or making herself paranoid.
    She stepped out onto the street again and walked on with Nameless shadowing her heels.  She smiled at the small gray cat, fondly.  “It's amazing that you stick with me,” she said quietly to the cat.  “I've never seen a cat take to someone like you've taken to me.” Nameless looked up at her as if listening, then ignored her to go chase after a plastic bag blowing along in the light wind.  Tracy laughed merrily.
    She quickly passed beyond the shops and was in a residential area again, less than a dozen blocks from home.  The buildings were shifting from houses to apartment complexes again.
    “The weird thing is,” she said to Nameless, “I can't get it out of my head that I can feel that guy, like he's out there.  Can't wait to get home, my imagination's just running away with me.”
    She walked along, trying to shake off the rising feeling that she was being watched, that someone was circling around her.  Every person that came past made her even more nervous, though she could have pointed to her imagined stalker somewhere else.  Why was this happening? She had never felt this paranoid on a walk, before.  Perhaps it was because of how depressed she had been feeling before she left.
    Tracy was passing by a basketball court when she felt the goosebumps hit.  She knew someone was there before they stepped out of the buildings on either side of her, loosely surrounding her and closing in.  Nameless hissed angrily, pressing against her ankle with his fur bristled.
    They stared right at her as they closed in on her.  It felt surreal, something that only happened on TV.  “You gotta be kidding me,” she muttered.
    “No kidding,” said one of the guys.  They all looked younger than her, late teens or early twenties, dressed in expensive and sloppy clothes.  Everything took on a strange, super-detailed experience.  It wasn't in slow motion, but with how many of the stupid little details she was noticing, it seemed like it should be.  Two of the boys were black; two were white.  One had a strange little scar just over his eye.  Another had a smudge of something brown just under his lip.
    For some reason, she noticed the mist.  There was a fog rising up around her, and she would have thought it was far too cold for a fog.  She noticed the thrumming, somewhere far away.  Perhaps there was machinery working away - road construction or some sort of generator - but in her fearful imagination, she matched it up with the footsteps of one of the thugs approaching her.
    They closed in around her.  Her gaze focused on the one boy whose footsteps she imagined resonated with that far away machinery.  She couldn't say why, but he drew her attention - perhaps because of that imagined tremor his every step created.  There was nothing to indicate he was the leader or somehow important, but she seized upon it and had a focus, watching him.
    They laughed at her - the sound making her still more afraid.  She was afraid, but she was frozen, frozen and watching, not sure what to do.  She knew she could run, but her weary legs, already having been walking or jogging for the past hour, might not carry her very far, except perhaps for adrenaline, but could she count on that? They were getting closer.  She might be able to