Peaks Island

Chapter 15

They moved stealthily. Allison had thrown on a dark pair of sweat pants and one of Greg's dark gray sweatshirts. He had on jeans and a dark t-shirt. They both wore baseball hats.

Allison should have been more afraid than she was. But, she felt safe with Greg. Even if Kevin or his girlfriend or another stalker were there, she felt superhuman with her feelings for Greg.

It was dark. The night seemed blacker than usual with more shadows hanging, more rustling of the ocean breeze through the pines. They didn't bring a flashlight for obvious reasons. Even though it was so dark, somehow the stones and shells on the path reflected the light. They walked along the sandy edge instead of the path. The seagrass was prickly event through the fibers of their pants, but walking on the shells would make too much crackling noise and they were dedicated to stealth.

He took her hand. it was the ocean rushing through her. His touch.

Once the cottage became visible, they stayed low, hidden under the rambling rose bushes that covered the wooden rail fence. The fragrance was magnificent. Everything was amazing. The sound of the ocean. The white roses. It was indelible. It should have been even more intoxicating than it was but Allison was growing accustomed to the ecstasy that surrounded her time with Greg. She knew the memories with him would never fade.Those two weeks on the beach--whether something came of their relationship or not-- she knew they would last. It was her destiny to be right where she was at that point in her life.

The leaves shuttered a little. She lout out a quiet gasp but Greg removed his hand from hers and put a finger up to his lips "shhhh."

A chipmunk scurried across the path right next to them, not even aware of their presence.

Greg turned to her. "We'd make good hunters."

"We are good hunters."  She smiled.

His eyes lit up then, he took her hand again and squeezed it."Let's move in closer."

Just as they were about to turn on to the short, narrow path that led to Allison's cottage, they saw a figure pass by the lighted window. It looked like a man in a dark hooded rain coat. They didn't move and he passed back by the cottage. They heard the crunching of the broken shells at the end of the path they were about to get on to.

Greg looked at Allison and made an exaggerated grimace. "Holy Shit." He said. Almost inaudibly.

Allison's heart was racing. The fear of Kevin was emerging as the scene moved from fiction to real. She couldn't speak. Her only thought was that if he were crazy enough to be stalking around outside her house in a black rain coat--what was he intending to do to her? Her heart was beating and she felt terrified even with Greg standing right there next to her. Her senses was heightened.

She knew she was in danger.

"Should we keep going?" Greg asked. Another exaggerated grimace. "What do you think?"

"Maybe we should go back and call the police," Allison whispered. Her mouth was dry. She felt dizzy.

Greg was about to say something when a voice broke through the night air, right behind them. "What are you doing out here?"

It caused Allison to let out a scream.

But, even though it had startled her, Allison recognized the voice. It was Daryl. He was standing before them dressed in black rain gear. Head to toe. Hood up. He was wearing his Hunter Thompson hat underneath. The coat was hanging off him open. He wore a black t-shirt with silver, crumbling block letters "Believe" below that was a 1950s looking flying saucer.