The monster faced the truck head-on, its head lowered close to the ground.

Russell bit back a curse, mentally chiding himself for losing focus. He had gotten so distracted he had failed to notice its approach. His carelessness had caused them, but then again, there wasn’t much he could have done to begin with.

“Looks like someone's still hungry,” he said to lighten the mood.

“You think?” Serena grumbled.

“Don't worry.” He rapped his knuckles on the dashboard. “Big Bertha can take quite the pounding."

“Oh, that was so bad.”

The beast rammed its head against the front of the truck another time, shaking the entire cab.

“This is starting to feel like a ride in an amusement park,” he said. “Like getting into one car crash after another."

“You say that like you've been in a few accidents yourself.”

Something lodged in his throat and he started coughing.

“No, no, not that I recall,” he said. “And hopefully not anytime in the future."

“You sure?” Serena asked. “You’ve never been in an accident? Not even one which includes a tree—”

“Should we try exiting from one of the doors at the back?” He gave the seats behind them a look, making sure not to make any eye contact with Serena. “Maybe we could do it while it's busy playing ‘bumper car’ with my truck."

“I don’t think we can outrun it if happens to chase us again.”

He frowned at her. “You think it would notice us?”

“It might,” she said, biting her lip in thought. “It's just a hunch, but it must have been tracking us earlier through our scent.”

The vehicle jolted with the loud crunching of metal. The truck’s cabin lurched backward, and Russell about slammed his forehead against the steering wheel.

He cursed under his breath as he took another look outside. How strong was this brute? Even the sturdy bumper of his truck was not built to last against this kind of punishment.

“You still think Big Bertha can take it?” Serena asked, sounding half-joking and half-worried.

“We’ll get through this,” he said even as his palms grew damp with sweat.

“If you say so,” she muttered.

The truck stopped rocking back and forth. The monster peeked its nose over the hood of the truck. Its nostrils flared as it took large sniffs of the air.

Russell clenched the steering wheel, worried at what the beast planned to do next. “Should I try starting the truck? We can't outrun it, but Big Bertha most certainly can."

“Not sure about the noise,” Serena said. “This is an old truck. Sarting up your engine might just very well send it to a complete frenzy.”

He blew out a breath. “That’s a good point.”

“Will it even start?” she asked.

“And that’s a good question…” he mumbled.

He didn't want to tell Serena he had already tried starting the truck earlier. Deep down, he knew it wouldn’t start. But he didn't want to crush her hope, not now when she was doing okay, when she was finally acting like her old self again. But what choice did they have? They can't stay here in the cab all night, waiting for a miracle to occur.

“Big Bertha’s pretty old,” he said. “Aside from the radio, it has no other electronics that some weird weather can fry. It should still work fine. I think…”

Serena sighed. “If it was even some kind of storm that caused it.”

Even if by some miracle the engine did start, he had no clue what the monster would do next. The sudden noise could scare the beast off, as long as it believed the truck was a bigger predator than it was.

He leaned forward, looking around their surroundings through the windshield. Aside from the ruckus the monster was making, the parking lot remained quiet and peaceful, a tranquil sight on any given night.

But if Big Bertha failed to frighten the beast, if it was smart enough to put the obvious clues together, it might just realize its prey had been hiding inside the large can of metal all along. And with the monster’s speed, they’d be finished long before the truck could pull out of its parking spot. Was trying to start the engine worth the gamble?

A strong explosion rocked the vehicle. The front of the truck lifted off the ground. They were pushed back against their seat, and Russell found the grab handle above his head as Serena gasped beside him.

The next second, the whole thing crashed back down to the ground, and the follow-up impact shook him to his core.

The creaking of old metal was followed by complete silence.

He peeked an eye open and chanced a look out the window. “Someone needs to chillax some,” he said as he lay back in his seat, seeing no signs of the monster except for the groans and moans coming from outside.

“You have any chill pill in here?” Serena asked.

He gave her a sidelong glance. “Why? You need one as well?”

“It seems our new friend needs it more,” she said, combing her loose hair away from her face. “A whole bottle of Xanax will do.”

“Too bad I don’t have any.” He chuckled, imagining the ravenous beast in front of them dying from an overdose. “How about some Netflix and chill instead? You think it’s interested in streaming a movie or two?"

Serena smiled. “A KitKat might also work. It could certainly use a break."

“Maybe that thing out there likes a different kind of chocolate.” He craned his neck to glimpse at whatever the monster was doing now. "You're not you when you're hungry, aren't ya, boy?"

"Twix?" she asked.

He blinked and shot her an incredulous look. "It's Snickers, you dolt.”

Serena stuck out her tongue at him.

He returned his gaze outside. “Will chocolate even be able to kill it? You know, like a dog?”

“It’s going take a whole lot to bring that thing down,” she said, then nudged him with an elbow. “You can even say that we need one monstrous chocolate bar to do it.”

“You mean one of those oversized Toblerones?” he asked with a snort, making sure Serena saw him roll his eyes at her.

“If chocolate’s even toxic to it,” she said.

“Well, so much for that idea.”

Serena shifted in her seat. “Not sure about our new friend, but I could certainly use some chocolate right now,” she grumbled. “The last meal I had was lunch, and that was hours ago."

Lunch?

He cast Serena’s hand aside and spun in his seat. Leaning over the console box, he reached into the floor behind them. He prayed what he was looking for in the dark was still there after all the shaking they had gone through.

“Wait, you actually have chocolate lying around?” she asked.

“No,” he said, feeling for the strap of his bag. “I’ve got something better."

Serena snorted, mumbling that there was nothing better than chocolate.

He grinned as he felt the strap in his grasp. With a grunt, he hauled the heavy gym bag onto his lap. The lack of a working dome light proved a hindrance as usual, but unlike reaching for the glove box at the other side of the car, this time he would be able to rummage through his belongings with ease.

Unzipping his bag, the musty odor of sweat and old clothes wafted in the tight confines of the cabin. He would have been embarrassed by the stench, but the prospect of finding a way out of their hopeless situation had gotten him all fired up.

“Do you…” Serena cleared her throat. “Do you have a gun in there…?”

He shook his head, continuing with his search.

“So, you’re just, what? Suddenly having the munchies right now?” she asked.

“No. Not really hungry at the moment,” he said, and like a claw machine fishing out a prize, he revealed to her what he was looking for. “But Cujo out there might be."

He peeled the resealable plastic bag open, and Serena let out a gasp.

“Mother of—What in God's good name is that?!” she choked out.

"A four-cheese sandwich,” he said. “Picked it up from one of the gas stations on the way back to town. Forgot I even had it."

“With that smell? How could you possibly forget?” she asked through her nose. “Let me guess, blue cheese?"

He shrugged. “No idea. Didn’t bother to ask."

“It’s inedible garbage is what it is,” Serena said, scooting back to the far end of her seat.

“Oh, I’m sure our new friend wouldn't mind,” he said, waving off her complaints. He returned his gaze out front, waiting for the beast to raise its head again. But seconds passed without any change. Then minutes. What happened to it now? Did the monster fall asleep?

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“For Pete's sake!” Serena groused. Leaning over him, she rolled down his window with her right hand and bit on the fingers of her left. With a deep, disgusted breath, she let loose a piercing whistle echoing into the night.

Russell hissed. With his ears still ringing, he flung the half-opened plastic bag through the opening and rolled his window back up in one continuous movement.

The monster snapped its head up.

It traced the arc of his throw, and for a second, stared at the direction his sandwich flew in. Then it let out a low growl, and with a powerful burst of speed, it charged after the bait like a bolt of shadow.

Russell had played football to catch balls, not throw them. But his arm was more than good enough.

The stink bomb sailed above the row of parked cars, bounced against the hood of a large Hummer, and plopped right into the middle of the parking lane, splattering its contents everywhere.

“I can’t believe that worked,” Serena muttered.

He grunted, not wasting any moment. When the monster reached halfway to its target, he turned the key to start the truck. But the engine remained dead silent.

He clenched his teeth. Did he run out of gas? Was that it?

Serena sighed beside him.

He attempted another time, but his truck refused to start. He stomped his boot on the floor mat, letting out a soft curse. Maybe he could pop the hood open and check. But was there enough light to see? Did he even have the time to look?

“It's no good, Russ,” Serena whispered. “I don't think she’s gonna start.”

He tried again. This time the engine sputtered and rattled, but it still failed to start. He leaned his forehead on the steering wheel, sighing in defeat. Was it the battery? The spark plug? The fuel injectors?

Or was it all just his wishful thinking?

He tilted his head, his temple against the wheel, and returned his gaze to the monster.

The beast gave the large mess on the ground a good sniff before jumping a step back with a huff, wagging its head in disgust.

Serena clicked her tongue. “I told you it was disgusting.”

He growled under his breath and twisted the key in frustration as the monster turned its head. It stared across the distance, locking its blind gaze at his truck, looking right through his window, seemingly straight at him.

Just as the engine roared to life.

The entire truck rumbled, and powerful reverberations reached Russell through his seat.

“Hell, yeah!” he shouted, giving the ceiling headliner a couple of good punches. He had never been happier to hear the old engine coughing like a dying old crone on her last breath.

They could leave now. He could still get home.

He gave Serena a broad grin. “Your destination, mademoiselle?”

“Drop me off at the porte-cochere. Hurry!”

Russell furrowed his brows. “At the what?”

“The valet, Russ!” Serena said. “The lobby entrance!”

“Oh, clubhouse it is, then.”

“We need to get back.” Serena bobbed her head, her voice energetic. “We should warn the others. Ask for their help.”

“Sure. Sure,” he mumbled. Typical Serena. Even after all she had been through, she was still thinking about other people.

He released the handbrake and shifted to first gear, giving the monster one last glance—and he slammed his foot on the brake pedal.

The truck jerked forward, and Serena grunted in surprise.

“What the…?” he muttered as he squinted his eyes at the monster.

“Why? What happened?” Serena asked, leaning over his shoulder to take a look as well.

Even with all the racket they had made getting his truck to start, the monster didn’t move as they had expected. The beast had crouched low on the ground in its initial surprise. But as seconds passed, it soon disregarded the noise entirely as if the truck didn’t exist.

“What's wrong with it?” Serena asked.

“No freakin’ clue,” he said.

“Does it seem…distracted to you?”

“More than Big Bertha’s big-ass engine?" he asked, turning a raised eyebrow at her, and he flinched.

Serena’s face was right next to his. Even in the darkness, her cheeks flushed a deep shade of pink.

She slapped him on the shoulder and pointed out the window. "Look! It's on the move!"

The monster had its head raised, sniffing at the air in obvious excitement. Loping to a nearby row of vehicles, it vaulted the side of a white van before perching on its roof. Metal groaned, and the entire vehicle dropped low to the ground. The beast swung its head back and forth, scanning the parking lot from its higher vantage point, reminding Russell of a dog looking for a new toy to play with.

Or had it already found one?

He didn't know what the monster was doing. But it had its focus somewhere else, which was only good news for them.

"I guess we're in the clear…” he said.

"I guess so?” Serena said, but her voice sounded more curious than relieved.

"Well, I'm not looking a gift horse in the mouth." He glanced over his shoulder, peering through the grimy window at the back of the cab. He searched for the exit, mapping the quickest way he could drop off Serena and escape this cursed car park.

All he wanted was to go now, leave whatever that thing was behind, and simply let the authorities handle it. It was high time to get home.

“Oh, no…” Serena muttered beside him.

Russell jerked his gaze back to his window in alarm. His eyes landed on the monster and saw nothing amiss. He turned to Serena to ask what was wrong. But she hadn’t been looking at the monster.

“By the entrance,” she said, facing the opposite direction. “There’s movement in the lobby.”

He spied through her window. The clubhouse stood a good distance away, easily more than an entire football field away. Without any form of light, he couldn't see anything far out in the darkness. How did she even spot something from so far away?

He squinted his eyes, letting his eyesight adjust, and gradually, a picture began to form. A shape moved in the darkness, and then another, a small figure followed by a taller one.

“I see two of them.” Russell cocked his head to the side. “And…I think they’re heading outside.”

“We can't let them come any closer, Russ,” Serena said under her breath “I don't think they see it.”

“See what? The monster?” He pivoted to check the view on his side. The beast had its ears perked, but it was staring in the other direction. “It's not even looking at them, though.” He paused before turning back to her. “Wait. It’s blind, right?”

“It can still pick up their scent. It might even be able to —” Serena gasped, clapping a hand over her mouth. “Harp…?”

“What harp?” He didn't make sense of what she was talking about, not at first—until he realized who she was talking about.

Back in front of the clubhouse, two figures had made their way outside the glass doors. The smaller of the pair headed toward the steps leading down the parking lot, escaping the complete darkness of the covered driveway, with the larger figure chasing after them. The short hair and black, fitting dress made the identity of the one walking ahead obvious enough, and Russell recognized the woman in an instant.

“Harper and Bradford?” he guessed as a wave of nausea threatened to make him sick.

Serena nodded in confirmation.

The sinking feeling in his stomach plummeted to the bottom like the Titanic. Serena's sharp vision was astonishing, but seeing those two out of the blue was even more dumbfounding. Of all people, why them? Why now? What the hell were they even doing heading outside all alone?

Serena bit her fingernail. “They haven't spotted the monster, Russ.”

From the way Harper was adamantly shaking her head, the two appeared to be locked in a heated argument. She tried to tug her hand free from Bradford's grasp, and the jerk was doing his best to prevent her from leaving.

“Douchebag's seriously looking for an ass-whooping,” Russell grimaced at the sight. It was like watching a cheesy scene in a rom-com, and it was the last thing he expected to see.

Serena reached for his arm. “They still don't see it…”

He grunted. “Brad should worry more about Ace. Just saying,” he said, but the joke fell on deaf ears.

“What do we do, Russ?” Serena asked, her voice rising. “They're already coming down the steps!"

“I know! I know!” He clenched the steering wheel, and his leg bounced beyond his control. He needed to think of a solution, but his mind remained frozen with indecision.

“Russ!”

“What?” he snapped. “Do you want me to floor it straight to the entrance? Hope we get to them faster than that darn monster? Well, we might just end up bringing it over to them if we do.”

“Okay…?” Serena bit her lip. “Okay. Then maybe…maybe we won’t need to do anything. Maybe they’ll just make up and head back inside. Right?”

“Maybe,” he muttered, but he doubted it would even happen. He knew Harper too well, or the Harper from ten years ago anyway. Given their body language, he had an inkling that making peace with Bradford was the last thing on the woman’s mind.

Harper looked to have had enough. She shoved Bradford's hand away, waved what looked to be his sunglasses in his face, and tossed it aside. With a final shake of her head, she left him behind at the top of the steps.

Undeterred, Bradford gave chase, and Russell thought he heard Bradford shouting above the noise of the truck's engine. The douchebag cut her off before they escaped from the covered area of the driveway, blocking her path to the parking area.

“That Collins better shut his loud mouth of his!” Russell said.

Serena’s shoulders slumped.

“Too late.”

This time, Bradford shouting Harper's name reached them even through the loud rumbling of the truck’s engine—as well as the monster.

The beast had not cared about the noise of his engine but it sure did when it detected a human's voice.

Time slowed.

The monster moved at a glacial pace, turning its head inch by inch. Ears twitching, it twisted in place, its movements slow, the scales on its neck overlapping as it ‘looked’ over its shoulder.

Russell sucked in a breath. His worries turned to reality.

The scales on the monster's haunches tightened. It crouched on its perch. Its body vibrated with anticipation of a predator sensing its prey.

Russell knew what would happen next. He could shout. He could call out a warning. There was a chance they would hear him. And a chance was better than nothing.

The monster bolted from the roof of the van.

But would they understand? Would they even care to listen to a stranger’s shout? No. The two were done for.

The monster seemed to fly forever, covering an impossibly long distance in a single leap.

It was simply bad luck. Harper and Bradford had exited the clubhouse at the wrong time, while Russell and Serena had ended up hiding in his truck instead of heading back. He had parked too far away. It was impossible to get to them on time, not with that kind of distance, not against such a beast—at least, not on foot.

A familiar wave of calm washed over him. It cleared his mind, giving him a sense of clarity, of peace. He accepted what he was about to do. What he had to do.

“Get out,” he told Serena.

The beast touched down on the ground like a silent phantom.

”What?” Serena asked beside him, confusion evident in her tone. “Why?”

“I’m about to do something very stupid,” he said, holding the steering wheel in a tight grip.

The monster raced through the parking lot, its loping gait as graceful to behold as it was frightening.

Serena scoffed. “What are you—”

“Get off, Serena!” he barked.

The monster shot past in front of them in a quiet blur.

He snapped his gaze to her. “Now!”

Serena blinked. Without another word, she came to a decision and fastened her seatbelt.

He gritted his teeth, knowing there was no more time for questions or second guesses. He gunned the accelerator, and the truck careened out of its parking spot. With tires screeching against the asphalt, Big Bertha chased after the back of the monster, a launched missile homing onto its target.

Her headlights failed to work, but the figure ahead of them was visible enough. The beast slowed down and took a glance in their direction. But it didn’t alter its course, continuing with the hunt.

Russell shifted to second gear.

The truck passed the turn leading to the exit of the car park, the same exit that would have led him back to town. Back to his sister. To the kids. To his home.

The road down the valley was just there. A simple turn. A short drive. He could be home in minutes. But this was no time to run. And quite frankly, he was fucking done with running.

Third gear.

The monster increased its pace. It sensed its prey were near.

Russell honked the car horn but no noise resounded. He kept shoving his palm down to honk but heard no blare. He hammered his fist against the center of the steering wheel over and over, wishing it would at least make a sound, wishing either one of the pair would notice their approach.

But Bradford still had his back to the parking area, blocking Harper's view. They haven’t noticed anything. They still had no idea. And they were running out of time.

Fourth gear.

Russell turned the dial of the stereo all the way, trying to blast the speakers. But the radio stayed silent.

Serena rolled down her window. She shouted at the top of her lungs, screaming out their names, calling out warnings. Her voice broke as she cried her heart out. But her voice remained unheard, drowned out by the wind and the noise of the engine.

Noise of the engine?

Gnashing his teeth, he floored the gas paddle, and the engine growled in burning fury.

Big Bertha roared into the night, a hellion awakened from its deep slumber, a demon summoned for battle. And Russell howled with her.

He didn't know what did it. Was it the monster’s ravenous growls? The roar of the overtaxed engine? The desperation in Serena’s screams? Or was it simply through sheer, dumb luck?

Someone yelled his name.

The monster pounced for the kill.

Bradford turned, noticing something behind him.

Harper’s gaze shifted over his shoulder, and her eyes grew wide.

Russell saw the exact moment the woman’s instincts kicked in, the same Harper Hayes he had once known so well.

With speed resembling feline grace, a firm grip on Bradford's collar, and a technique that would make any judoka proud, Harper executed a perfect throw. And she launched herself and a man twice her size behind the closest column supporting the covered driveway.

Just before the monster got to them

Just before someone grabbed for Russell.

Just before he rammed a two-and-a-half-ton truck up the monster’s unsuspecting ass.

And then everything turned black.