The Pursuit

"I can't find Thunder!"

"What?! What do you mean you can't find her?"

Tears stung at Mia's eyes as her choked voice tried to explain what had happened earlier that day.

Like always, the first thing she did after getting out of bed was letting Thunder out into the small yard behind the house. The sun was just barely peeking through the line of trees at the edge of the property, the early morning air cool and comfortable. No cars could be heard on the streets just yet, only the sound of birds chirping and summer leaves rustling. Thunder seemed preoccupied with sniffing around the yard. Letting her explore for a while, Mia turned back inside the house, heading towards the kitchen to make her usual cup of tea. The steady, soft clinking sound of her spoon against the edges of the glass was the only thing disturbing the silence until she heard Thunder barking outside. This didn't raise any alarms. They were right next to the woods, so almost every time the dog was let out, she'd end up barking at a squirrel or some other creature. Paying it no heed, Mia continued, grabbing a snack as well before walking back outside to an empty yard.

Thunder was gone.

It was now almost noon, and Mia was frantically pacing back and forth in the living room, clutching her phone to her ear as she breathlessly recounted the story to her mother on the other line.

"I turned my back only for a minute�"! She's never run off like this before! I drove around everywhere looking for her but now I have to get to work and�""

"Sweetie, calm down. It'll be alright. Go to work, try to relax, I'm sure she'll turn up soon." Ophelia's tone wasn't as reassuring as her actual words. Mia felt her heart twist with guilt, chest tightening.

"I'm so…so sorry, Mom, I�""

"It's not your fault. Call me after work if she doesn't show up by then."

---

Days passed, and Thunder still hadn't shown up, even after Noah had helped Mia put 'Lost Dog' signs up all over the city. They'd been driving around for over an hour looking for Thunder, but to no avail. It was like she just disappeared off the face of the earth.

As Noah circled the car back around their neighborhood once again, Mia felt her eyes start to sting again, vision blurring as she stared out the passenger window. "This is my fault…"

"Come on, you can't think like that. You only turned your back for a minute, and she's never run off before. You had no reason to be on guard."

She shook her head, raising her sleeve to wipe away the threat of incoming tears. "Yes, I did, I had every reason to be on guard. This isn't just my fault because I wasn't looking, it's because I threw away those f*****g flowers…"

Noah's head almost spun all the way around as he shot her a bewildered look. "What in the hell does that have to do with this?"

"He sent me a message, I sent one back. Maybe he even recognized the meaning of the carnations…"

"Girl, seriously, what are you talking about?"

"This is what I get for pissing off a crazy person, is what I'm saying."

"You pissed me off by throwing those roses away�"didn't make me want to steal your dog. And you know how crazy I can be." His tone was playful, but she was in no mood. Realizing this, he sighed, returning his focus on the road.

"Let's take a break for a bit, get lunch or something. You need distraction."

---

It felt wrong for Mia to start taking walks again without Thunder. But it felt even worse not going on a walk at all, at least after a few days of moping around with half-hearted distractions. There was too much nervous energy building up inside, and this was one of the healthier ways she knew to let it out. Seeing as the days had grown so unbearably hot, however, she was forced to wait until dusk before venturing out.

She was now somewhere in the middle of her route, the music from her earbuds keeping her pace lively when she felt her phone vibrate in her hand. Slowing down, she checked it, figuring it was a text from one of her friends.

Hey.

This wasn't from anyone in her contacts list. Her brows knit together in confusion as she typed back, asking who it was. The unknown number responded within a few seconds.

It's Darren, we went to Jessemer High together. You were in theatre class with me.

Still walking at a slow pace, teeth tugging at her lower lip, Mia tried to think back through long forgotten memories until the name sounded familiar again. Darren Henderson…yeah, she remembered him. Two years older than her, crew cut….world class a*****e. Rumor had it he knocked up not one, but two girls immediately following graduation. He'd played the lead in their school's one-acts many times due to popularity more so than talent. Mia had been in one of those productions in the insignificant role of a chamber maid.

Why on earth would he be texting her?

How did you get this number?

The seconds dragged on as she watched the typing icon appear, then disappear, then appear again before he finally answered.

You wrote it in my yearbook :)

"The hell I did…!" She hissed under her breath. She and Darren never even spoke as far as she could remember, and she would never have given him her number. Even if she had, her number had changed since high school since her mom got a new phone plan last year.

Suddenly, it all clicked in her mind. Her stomach did a backflip and she halted in her tracks, staring down at her screen with horror. She didn't have to guess to know who this really was. Beads of sweat were pouring down her forehead, both from her run and from fear as she frantically typed back.

Do you think I'm stupid? I know you aren't Darren, he would never want to contact me and he'd never be smart enough to get this number even if he wanted to.

Bzz, bzz. Another instantaneous response.

So you're saying I'm smart? I appreciate that, Mia. You're very smart too. That's one reason I like you so much.

She snorted with disgust. Yeah right, a*****e. If you liked me so much, why wouldn't you just talk to me like a normal person?

Maybe I'm shy. But if you really want to meet me, I'm a lot closer than you think.

Panting from more than just the exertion, she looked around wildly. She felt like she was stupidly falling for a cruel joke of his, thinking he was actually right there watching her. He's probably miles away, she thought. Sitting in his basement, eating Doritos, harassing me because he's mad at the female race for not sleeping with his lame a*s…

But then she noticed something that stood out.

About a hundred feet behind her, a car was parked, headlights off but the engine running. It was a jet black Mustang: a Boss 557. She knew cars, especially sports cars, due to working in Gibb's shop all those years ago. This was an extremely rare and expensive model. Rare and expensive like those damn roses.

Taking a few steps away from the vehicle, she tried to calm her racing heart. Maybe this was nothing. It wasn't necessarily him, it wasn't necessarily that car, the one that had immediately stopped cruising by her place once she'd spotted it weeks ago. This was just a dark colored car, she saw dozens of those every day…

This thought soothed her only until the Mustang started inching towards her, almost like it was trying to sneak up on her. She jumped nearly a foot in the air and sidestepped further away from the road, trying to peer through the heavily tinted windows. They might as well have been painted over for all she could see.

Before her mind even fully registered what to do, her feet had decided for her.

As she started to sprint, she heard the engine behind her revving up, roaring like some great mechanical monster preparing to tear her to pieces. He was chasing her for sure. Her eyes were tearing up just from the sound of it, but she didn't dare look back.

If she went off the road, his car couldn't follow. That was all she needed to know before darting sharply to the side, stumbling down a grassy incline, and disappearing into a thick line of trees. Thorns and branches scratched at her bare calves, her lungs burning and muscles aching, but she couldn't focus on any of that. She just had to keep running, and find another exit out of the forest that would lead her safely home.

She only realized a minute or so later that just because the Mustang couldn't follow her didn't mean the drivercouldn't.

911, you idiot! Why haven't you called 911?! Her mind started screaming at her, and her shaking fingers frantically scrambled for her phone, only half expecting there to be a signal out in the middle of the woods like this. Then she froze, picking up on the steady sound of crunching leaves.

Footsteps.

Her eyes darted around in every direction, but the rest of her body was paralyzed, not daring to risk making a single sound. Her senses felt heightened, but she could only hear the rush of her pulse in her ears.

Then, there it was again. More rustling in the distance.

Her instincts had already chosen flight, since she sure as hell couldn't fight, not unless this guy was a lot smaller than the hulking monster she was imagining. Either way, he could easily have a gun. Any curiosity she had about who this person was went right out the window as she started another mad sprint. Fortunately, her sense of direction had always been on point. Where the dull orange light of the setting sun was weakly filtering through the trees, that's where her house was. She just had to keep her eyes straight ahead, avoid tripping on any obstacles, and keep running at all costs.

Over the sound of her own ragged panting, she swore she could hear him chasing behind her at some point, but her paranoia had spiked so high it was difficult to tell if she was just imagining it or not. When she was finally able to see the dark outlines of houses in the distance, she could've wept with joy. It wasn't far now.

Stumbling out from the forest, she looked back only a moment to listen, but heard nothing behind her. Hand over her heart, which sounded like it was trying to crack through her sternum, she was left heaving in a weak attempt to catch her breath. After a few seconds, her adrenaline levels had lowered and she felt that she might be safe.

Then she remembered, He knows where you live. He might be parked there right now, waiting for you.

The thought almost sent another chill down her spine, until she figured she could just approach with caution. If she got close and saw that Mustang anywhere nearby, she'd call the cops, or Noah, at the very least. After she'd gathered her wits, she took off again, dashing straight around the corner and towards the back of her house. Her feet slammed against the sidewalk, two steps away from the fence when she heard an engine roar behind her and her face twisted with fear. She just barely kept her footing as she flew through the gate and locked it behind her (as if that would keep him out). When she looked up, it was only a blue Chevy that cruised right on by. Not him.

Still reeling from the entire experience, Mia trudged up to the backdoor, leaning heavily against the wood railing of the stairs. The closer she came to the glass, the more she could hear her friends' voices on the inside. Exhausted, thirsty, and nearly in tears, she didn't notice nor care what they were talking about, and was ready to walk right in. Then something caught her attention.

"…she's getting so obsessed with this stalker thing…"

"It's kind of creepy, but it's not that serious…she's making it such an ordeal…"

"I mean, the thing with the car, there was something freaky going on then. But I seriously think the dude's gotten bored. Nothing's happened for weeks and she still finds ways to bring it up, tying every little thing into it, like the party incident or her missing dog-"

"I mean, I'm ninety percent sure she just grabbed the wrong drink and Thunder just ran away. There's no reason to think otherwise. She's also been kind of aloof when I try to talk to her. Like the other day, I told her Emma and Marisol were engaged�"you'd expect her to care, I mean, we've just been hanging out with them since freshman year�"and she shrugged it off like I was talking about random strangers."

"It's like now that she's been the center of attention for one creeper, she's uncomfortable when she isn't for everyone else."

"Oh come on, Noah. That's kind of harsh."

"Fine, I guess I shouldn't blame her too much. I know my ego would get out of hand too if I had a secret admirer sending me nonstop compliments and flowers."

Mia's eyes were hard and cold as she held on to every word. Jaw tight, breath shallow, she waited another few seconds for them to change the subject. She couldn't muster up the energy for a confrontation even if she wanted to. Once all was quiet, she finally pushed the door open.

"Mia, you look like hell…!" Blaire's exclamation was teasing at first, then she gasped, rushing up towards her. "Woah, woah, what happened to your leg?"

Mia barely glanced down to see blood trickling down her calf. "Tripped on my run," she responded flatly, not looking at either of them even once as she headed straight towards her room. Once the door was shut and locked behind her, she heard their whispers again.

"What's her problem?"

Later that night, Mia was lying in bed, body curled up around one of her pillows as she wrestled with her thoughts, trying to settle them enough so she could get to sleep. It was obvious she was in it alone now. Her so-called friends thought she was being an attention w***e, the police would likely think the same, and she didn't even have Thunder to protect her now.

She didn't want to care. That was her problem, wasn't it? Being 'obsessed' with the issue, scaring herself over nothing, being a paranoid freak. She wanted to just ignore this f****r until he left her alone already, but it was obvious he hadn't "gotten bored" yet, like Noah thought. He had been within mere feet of her today. How did he know she'd be on that street, at that time? Did he follow her on her runs before? Did he track all her movements?

Was he was watching her right now?

Her body tensed, fingers tightening around the pillow as she tried not to imagine a figure lurking just outside her window�"or worse, right under the bed.

No one's there, no one's there…

After a few minutes of feeble meditation, the only sound in her bedroom being her own breathing, she deemed herself calm enough to do something brave. It was apparent she wasn't getting any decent sleep tonight anyway. She'd just have to catch up on it tomorrow.

Reaching for her phone, she found the texts from earlier, and for a long while, just stared at the number that they came from. Then she pressed her thumb against the screen and hit "Call".

Her adrenaline spiked all over again in anticipation of his response, wondering if she'd recognize his voice or not-not even thinking that he wouldn't, or couldn't, answer.

"We're sorry, this number cannot receive calls as it is part of a TextFree service�""

Hanging up immediately with an exasperated cry, she dragged her hands along her face. Of course it was a fake number! Now she couldn't even use that as some form of evidence against him. She was thinking of just blocking it and waiting until he'd try to strike again in some other way, when suddenly:

BZZ BZZ! BZZ BZZ!

She flinched back with fright as her phone rattled loudly against her nightstand, swallowing and taking a few breaths before grabbing it. The screen read 'Unknown', but she knew exactly who this was. Despite trying to call him just moments before, instinct desperately tugged at her thoughts, begging her not to answer. She did anyway.

Shakily holding the phone up to her ear, her mouth attempted to form the word 'Hello', though no sound came out. There was a moment of silence before a terrifyingly deep voice spoke, obviously warped by a voice changer of some sort. She expected him to say something disgusting, like what he wanted to do to her. Whether that was sexual or violent, she didn't know.

But no. He only said one thing before hanging up.

"I wasn't going to hurt you."

Click.