Todd drove past the barns and the churches and the water towers, occasionally letting out a “Well, hey there” when he saw a roadhouse or a gas station put there by the Lord in a rare moment of inspiration.

Where the fuck am I going? he thought. Behind him, the Harley’s headlamp followed like a bright persistent star.

The night went on. The song about the wayward son had long passed, to be replaced by songs about something that was more than a feeling, or cold as ice, or hot-blooded, or the spirit of radio. Todd drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and sang along when he knew the song.

Suddenly the song – it was about two kids who died or something – ended. A squall of guitars, a rumble of drums. The roar of an engine. Like a motorbike. Like a—

Like a bat out of hell.

As if on cue, the Harley revved up. Todd could hear its engine roar and flare like someone opened a furnace door. Before, it had just been toying with him following him, but now it was coming at him, surging up roads at Todd, falling back, surging up, almost passing, and falling back again.

Todd saw what was happening: the fucker was shepherding him.

He turned off the radio and looked out the window. He was on the outskirts of a small town. Todd put pedal to metal, swung a left, and headed for Main Street. The Harley did the same, but luck was with Todd, as a pickup truck nosed out from a four-way crossing and forced the bike to slow.

They were on Main Street. Todd didn’t have much time until the Harley caught up with him. New plan. Todd slung the Volvo at the curb, braked it, killed the engine, and leapt out onto the sidewalk.

Now he was running down an unlit alley, away from the bike. And yet there it was, coming right at him, engine gunned and headlight glaring in his eyes.

Without thinking, Todd jumped into a doorway.

Silence. Nothing. Todd stepped out of the doorway. From nowhere, the bike charged at him.

Todd stumbled back into the doorway and banged on the door.

“Let me in!” he shouted.

And then, just as the Harley was on him, the door opened and Todd fell inside.

*  *  *

The darkness was total, cold and soft like fog. Todd breathed it in. The door clicked shut, but he didn’t notice. He moved farther inside, looking for a light switch. He ran his fingers along the wall, found something, and flicked it.

Instantly globes of yellow light snapped into existence across the ceiling, waking one by one with an irritable clicking sound. Todd was momentarily blinded. He looked up. The ceiling was pretty high. Below it were shelves. Hundreds of shelves. And on those shelves were books, thousands of them.