Tonya shivered, laid out on leaves edged with frost. Her head spun when she tried to raise it and her stomach roiled. It was difficult to order the thoughts ricocheting inside her tender skull. What time was it? How long had she lain there?

Her ears were ringing, distorting sounds of police shouting and dogs barking. Through the trees, an officer wielded a powerful flashlight. Every few paces his German Sheppard sniffed at the fallen leaves then led his master in a circle, looking for a bomb that wasn’t there.

Last night in a panic, making a bomb threat to evacuate the woods had seemed like genius. Tonya hadn’t anticipated endangering the lives of these officers who might be breathing infected air as they searched under every leaf. Unless she confessed, they would keep looking.

Admitting she made a false bomb threat would get her charged, but it couldn’t be helped. That is, unless she could think of a good excuse for her actions? Tonya shook her head at her own folly, making herself dizzier. There was only one way out of this mess. She had to invent a rational, believable explanation for crying bomb, one that didn’t involve magical fires or mysterious eating epidemics. Trying to think made her head throb more.

She tried to sit up, but the world wobbled. She touched her forehead and felt a teacup-sized bump.

That’s it! I’m faking amnesia.

The sky disappeared, blocked out by a monstrous head. Black eyes stared into hers and a deep growl sent her neck hairs standing. She wanted to flee until a gleam of light highlighted the beast’s enormous teeth. She froze. Its rotten breath invaded her nose.

“I found somebody!” said an officer. He recalled his dog, but not before it dribbled slobber onto her face. Tonya groaned. She hated dog slobber.

A second officer approached. “Are you okay?”

She nodded, then winced as that movement sent pain through her head.

As the first officer rejoined the search with his dog, Tonya wasn’t sure what to do. Should she protect this cop by telling the truth or deceive him in case Donna’s family had infiltrated the police?

“What happened?” he asked.

“I hit my head on a tree.” She cupped the goose egg on her forehead.

“You were riding your bike off the path, in the dark?” He stood with his hands on his hips.

“I was being chased by angry students.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“They were upset because I called about a bomb and they had to leave.” Tonya sat up gingerly.

He stroked his chin and got down on his haunches. He pointed a flashlight into her face. “What bomb?”

“I saw suspicious wires in the trees and I thought, terrorists for sure, right?” Better sound as ditzy as possible if she was going to sell this tale. “Then everybody got mad and came after me.”

“We haven’t found any bomb.”

“Thank goodness! That must be why I’m still alive. I was sure everything was about to blow.”

“Where did you see these wires?”

“It was dark.” She looked around pretending to search for landmarks. “I don’t know but somewhere on the path, near the small hill.”

He extended a hand and helped her to her feet. Tonya groaned. Her leg muscles were in agony from running and pedaling, and stiff from lying on the frosty ground. She took a step forward, but her leg refused to extend fully, and she stumbled.

“Easy there, lean on me.” The police constable took her right arm and pulled it around his broad shoulder, at the same time wrapping his other arm around her waist. “Do you think you can walk? My car’s back at the road.”

“I’ll be okay,” She wobbled as the world spun, forcing her to lean into him more than she intended. Beside her he felt warm and solid. At another time, she might daydream about a uniformed hero come to rescue her, but she was too suspicious to enjoy it. For all she knew, he would take her straight to Donna.

They walked until the trees thinned and she could see a car passing on the road beyond the cemetery gates. She wriggled away from him. “I’m okay now,” she lied, “just a bit stiff from sleeping on the ground. Can I go back and get my bike?”

“Your bike?” His expression was perplexed.

“Campus isn’t far.”

“Let me give you a ride. You’re covered in scratches and that bump on your head needs treatment.”

“But my bike . . .”

“I’m sorry but the bike is a write-off. Come with me.” He took her arm and steered her westward through the trees.

“Oh. Good thing I don’t love cycling.” It was the first true thing she’d said to the constable. She was glad he wasn’t looking at her face, in case he could tell. Under interrogation, she’d probably crack and tell this handsome policeman everything. If he was a Mundane, the truth would earn her psychiatric attention. If he was Old Family, who knew where his loyalties lay?

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They went through the Western Gate and walked to his patrol car. In a moment, he would lock her in the back, behind a heavy grill. It might as well be a jail cell. She had to get away before she was trapped.

“Wait.” She retreated a few steps and unzipped the Hazmat suit. As she stepped out of it, the wind cut through the jacket she was wearing underneath. She turned the Hazmat suit inside out so any fungus spores on it wouldn’t get airborne and infect him.

“Let me take that.”

“It’s dirty,” she ran a hand through her hair, knocking out some dry leaves. “I have to return it. Thanks for offering but I’d rather walk back.”

He shook his head. “You can sit in front.” He took her hand and helped her in like a gentleman. Was that to put her off guard? She had lost. She sat back, and her eyelids drooped.

Tonya sat bolt upright and forced her eyelids open. It seemed right to trust this handsome policeman and let him look after her. Besides, her eyes felt so heavy . . .

Her mind drifted away from Donna and gravedigger fungus, and Rudolph’s creepy voice in her head. It would be so sweet to relax and let herself sleep.

As the car pulled out she was hardly conscious of it moving until he said: “So, describe this equipment again?”

Her eyelids snapped open. His stern tone meant she was in trouble. With effort, she ordered her thoughts. “Up in the trees. There were wires and boxes and blinking red lights.”

“Uh huh. And why were you riding your bike in the cemetery?”

“It was Halloween. I’m too old for trick-or-treating.”

“I also want to know how you got a hospital Hazmat suit.” He shot her a crooked smile then looked back at the road. “I’m going to take you in and get a formal statement, but not until a doctor declares you fit. You really cracked your head.”

“The bike took most of it. No doctor necessary.”

“I’ll take you to the hospital, to get checked for concussion, before we go to the detachment.” His tone made clear that this was not negotiable.

What should she do? Tonya didn’t want to make a false statement, and she was afraid to face Donna at the hospital. Once she discovered what Tonya knew, the evil choir lady might schedule a lobotomy!

“I hate hospitals. Besides, I’m fine.” She moved her head around in a circle, pretending it didn’t make her woozy. “Can’t I give you my statement now?”

“Sure.” He pointed up the road to where an ambulance was parked on the shoulder. “First let’s get you a second opinion.” He pulled alongside and rolled down his window to talk to the driver.

“This girl hit a tree on her bike. Real feisty. Says her head doesn’t hurt but . . .” He shrugged and got out of the car to talk to the driver.

Tonya wanted to flee, but she couldn’t outrun this young cop. Just turning her head made her stomach heave.

When he had finished talking the officer returned, offering her a hand out of the car. “They’re just going to make sure you’re okay.”

“And if I don’t want to go?”

“Then come with me.” His smile was tight. “You need to report to the station for questioning, as soon as you feel better.”

“I do have a headache. Maybe they should check me, to be sure.”

He nodded and tried to take her hand again. Tonya insisted on climbing into the back of the ambulance without help and stood, pretending she wasn’t desperate to lie down on the gurney.

“Lie down, I have to strap you in,” said the attendant.

Lying down sounded too tempting. “I’m not sick,”

“Sorry, but you have to. The less your head moves the better.” The ambulance still wasn’t moving. “Now.”

“Please? I hate being strapped down and I hate hospitals.”

“Sorry. I need you strapped in. You look kind of green.”

Tonya didn’t see a way to refuse that wouldn’t put this nice young ambulance attendant into save the uncooperative victim mode. She was familiar with it from lifeguarding, and feared the restraining moves he might execute to force her compliance.

“All right, but don’t strap me in tight. It makes me claustrophobic.” That at least was true.

The minute she lay down, Tonya’s eyes closed. She was on the verge of passing out. As the ambulance pulled onto the road, she allowed herself sixty seconds with her eyes closed as the vehicle did a U-turn. Forcing them open, she craned her neck to look the attendant in the eye.

“So, do you live around here?” The attendant was muscular but not nearly as handsome as the police constable.

“I’m from a village North of Loon Lake. Do you know Rural Route . . .”

She let him describe the tiny intersection closest to his father’s farm, but she was more worried about the dwindling distance between the ambulance and the hospital. Surreptitiously, she loosened the straps each time he looked away, all the while encouraging the attendant to tell her about the horse he was going to buy someday.

“What are you going to call him?”

“I don’t know. That depends on what he’s like.”

The attendant seemed like a decent guy. She hoped he would get his horse one day, but when the ambulance stopped at a red light, she slipped off the far side of the gurney and shoved it at him.

She leaped from the ambulance and ran. Although she had pushed the gurney hard, Tonya figured the attendant would be fine. She, on the other hand, was so dizzy she could barely see where she was running. The horizon kept circling around her.

Straining to put maximum distance between herself and the ambulance, she tripped over her feet. Slow down. If she fell again she would pass out and they’d carry her away. Her only hope was to duck into a backyard before the driver got turned around.

At least she hadn’t leaped into farmland. Here, the houses were grouped along a handful of loosely interwoven streets. She sprinted across a lawn and found a chain link fence. She got her shoe tips stuck in and climbed over easily. Dashing across the lawn, she emerged between two houses and crossed a small street. She crossed another set of lawns and another street before she saw a shed where she could hide and catch her breath.

The darkness inside the shed tickled her nostrils and watered her eyes. The arterial stab, stab, stab, of pain in her temples dulled to a steady throb as she caught her breath. The shed was safe but also a dead end. This was a residential area to the northeast of the lake, nowhere near campus or friends who might give her a lift. The ambulance driver would spot her the minute she went near the highway, or tried to walk home.

Home. The cut grass scent of the shed triggered memories of Dad pushing the mower on Sunday afternoons. It worried her how he and Mom had suddenly moved, like refugees leaving everything behind. Tonya blamed Old Family magic but to what purpose? What did Donna gain by perforating her Hazmat suit? She hadn’t sent an ambulance to pick up Professor Rudolph’s body from the cemetery, but did she know it was walking around? No decent Mod supported death magic, but Donna’s family was more extreme than most. What might they support?

As the Sun rose on November 1st, Tonya slipped out of the shed and hopped on the first bus she saw. There were only a few bus loops in Loon Lake and this one would take her close to campus. She had made it through Halloween, but it was unclear whether she or the other students were infected with the eating disease. She suspected Aunt Helen knew something, as well as the lady at City Hall who had spoken to Tonya in a trance.

Why spread a supernatural disease? There were simpler ways to kill. And who were the real targets? Tonya hoped she could figure it out before the police realized she’d run off.