Chapter 7: Nowhere to Run

Danny was dead.

And it was our fault.

The thought kept repeating in my head as we sat in Amy's car, parked outside my house. None of us had spoken since we left the field.

Mike was staring out the window, jaw clenched so tight his knuckles had turned white. Amy had pulled her knees to her chest, eyes empty.

Danny's *last words* echoed in my skull.

*"He sees you now."*

I ran a shaky hand through my hair. "What do we do?"

Amy finally looked at me. Her voice was hollow. "We leave."

Mike turned. "Leave?"

She nodded. "We run. Get out of this town. As far as we can."

I wanted to argue. Wanted to tell her that *running wouldn't change anything*.

But deep down, I knew.

She was right.

We packed that night.

Only the essentials—clothes, cash, whatever we could fit in Amy's car. My hands were shaking the whole time.

It felt *wrong*.

Like we were leaving a part of ourselves behind.

Like we were leaving *Danny* behind.

I hesitated at my bedroom door, glancing back one last time. The walls felt too close. The air too thick.

Then—

A *whisper*.

*"Jack."*

I *froze*.

Turned.

Nothing.

Just my reflection in the mirror.

But for a *split second*—

I swore my reflection was *grinning*.

We hit the road just after midnight.

Amy was driving, knuckles white on the steering wheel. Mike sat in the back, arms crossed, staring at the passing streetlights.

I watched the town disappear behind us.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

Amy exhaled. "Anywhere but here."

We drove for hours. The highway stretched ahead, empty and endless.

It should have felt safe.

It *didn't*.

Because no matter how far we went—

I could *feel* it.

Watching.

Waiting.

The gas station was the first sign.

We pulled over just before dawn, the only station for miles. It was empty, the lights flickering.

I stepped out of the car, stretching my legs. The air was cold.

Too cold.

Mike went inside to pay. Amy stayed by the car, arms wrapped around herself.

I leaned against the hood, staring at the horizon. The sun was rising, but the sky still looked *wrong*—like it was *stuck* between night and day.

Then—

A shadow.

Long. Twisted.

Stretched across the pavement, creeping toward me.

I turned—

And *froze*.

Across the street—

A *scarecrow*.

Standing in an empty field.

Its head tilted toward me.

Grinning.

I stumbled back.

No.

No, it wasn't possible.

We had *left*. We were *miles away*.

Amy's voice wavered. "Jack…?"

I turned to her.

And *her eyes widened*.

She was staring at my arm.

I looked down—

And my stomach *dropped*.

The mark.

It was *spreading*.

Black veins twisting up my wrist, pulsing beneath my skin.

Amy's breath hitched. "Jack, we have to go."

I didn't argue.

We jumped into the car.

Sped off.

But in the rearview mirror—

The scarecrow was *gone*.

Mike was shaking. "This isn't working."

Amy's grip on the wheel tightened. "We just need to get farther."

I wanted to believe her.

But the mark on my arm said otherwise.

We stopped in a motel outside a nowhere town. The air was thick, suffocating.

None of us slept.

Every time I closed my eyes—

I saw *him*.

The Watcher.

Waiting.

Grinning.

I knew then.

We couldn't run.

Not from *him*.

The final sign came that night.

Amy was in the shower. Mike sat at the table, flipping through channels.

I stared at my reflection in the motel mirror.

The mark had spread up my arm, tendrils of black curling toward my shoulder.

My chest was tight. My skin felt *wrong*.

Then—

The TV flickered.

Mike frowned. "What the—"

Static.

Then—

A *whisper*.

*"Jack."*

The motel lights *flickered*.

The air *dropped*.

And in the reflection—

I wasn't alone.

The Watcher stood behind me.

Grinning.

The TV shut off.

The room plunged into darkness.

Mike *swore*. "Jack—"

Then, Amy *screamed*.

We ran to the bathroom.

The shower was still running. Steam curled from beneath the door.

I pushed it open—

And my blood *froze*.

The mirror was covered in words, scratched into the glass.

**"YOU CAN'T RUN."**

Amy stood in the tub, shaking.

She turned to us—

And her eyes *weren't hers anymore*.

Dark. Hollow.

The Watcher *was inside her*.

Her lips parted—

And *he* spoke.

*"You're mine now."*

The wind howled. The lights burst.

And the darkness *swallowed us whole*.

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