She rides down the street on her bike, an average pace set to get to the Bed & Breakfast by nine, but not too fast to wear herself out too much. This was, after all, her last mile of twenty-five that day. Her ears pick up on a sound to her back and she looks into her bike's rear view mirror to see a dark figure following her, matching her pace. Instead of speeding up and giving away that she knows he's there, she continues at her pace.

The footsteps pick up pace as she nears the Bed & Breakfast she'll be staying at, and she picks up her pace, no longer worried about him knowing she knows- only worried he'll catch her. Her heart races, rapidly beating in her chest like those darn jack rabbits they all talk about. Her breathing speeds and she has to consciously force herself to slow it or she'll pass out and then she's really in trouble.

She's mere feet away now- only a block- she can make it, just pedal a little faster and he won't catch her. Closer... closer... closer... closer... closer. (Faster... faster... faster... faster.) But as she reaches the gate and starts to unlock it, getting off her bike, there's a hand over her mouth and a voice in her ear-

"Don't scream."