Where He Can't Find You

by Darcy Coates

The nightmares were always the first warning. They came before any of the other signs—before the birds that plunged out of the sky, before the streetlights all died, before the sickness. Before the disappearances.

And it was always better to be on the approaching side of daylight, not the receding.

We want to feel that we have control over our destiny, that we wouldn’t ever make the same mistakes that cost someone else everything.

Clocks wind back Windows crack Signals fall Motors stall Long red thread Someone’s dead

She’d already seen three body bags carried out, and they still weren’t done.

But in every case? No one, no matter their personality or temperament, ever made a sound?

The Stitcher waits The Stitcher takes The Stitcher cuts The Stitcher shapes * * * Rule #3: Stay as far from Charles Vickers as you can.

Sometimes the worst things that happen to you come from the smallest decisions. You lean on the accelerator instead of the break. Or you shift your weight on the ladder. Or you leap into the pool headfirst without checking how deep the water is. Tiny, tiny mistakes that would have been inconsequential any other day. But for some reason, the universe’s gears get jammed at that exact second, and your tiny mistake permanently changes the remainder of your life.

Hide, hide Stay inside Windows blocked Doors all locked Hide, hide Stay inside Footsteps near Stitcher’s here * * * Keep your house locked up tight, or the Stitcher will come for you.

It turned out a person could make the correct choice, and still feel strangled by regret.