Down Main Street Vic let the bus open up a bit, driving faster than he normally would, but it was tempting when there were no other cars on the road. The bus terminal was less than ten minutes away—turn on the Boulevard, cross over the river, and he’d be pulling into the garage before midnight. But as he slowed for his turn, he felt a strange prickling sensation, a tingling that crawled across the back of his neck, so real he brushed a hand down his smooth scalp to make sure nothing was there. He started into the turn and felt it again. This time a feeling of dread filled his stomach, so strong that it nauseated him and he gagged. God.