Chapters (57)
- Cover
- Dedication
- Foreword
- Prologue
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Praise for Linwood Barclay
- Also by Linwood Barclay
- About the Publisher
As Archie ran toward the shelves, he scanned them the way a mountain climber might assess a cliff face. What was the safest way up? Where were the best footholds? What route offered the best chance of reaching the top in the least amount of time?
Archie had to make his assessment with considerably more speed than a mountain climber might. The latter didn’t usually have a car on their ass.
Archie did.
The Arrival that had killed Nick was now in pursuit of Archie. He allowed himself only one glance back, enough to determine that the vehicle was a good eight to ten Arrival-lengths back, which he hoped would give him enough time to pick a shelf and start climbing.
He made a sharp turn down an aisle of cleaning supplies and spotted a sliver of space between products that led to the next aisle over. He darted in just as the Arrival squealed down the aisle, scrambled through, and came out the other side.
The Arrival, realizing it had been given the slip, stopped to recalibrate.
In this next aisle over, Archie looked up, as if from the bottom of a canyon. The shelf he’d snuck through looked promising. He grabbed a vertical metal railing with one hand, a horizontal shelf with the other, and got one foot solidly on an open crate of Swiffer refill pads. He hoisted himself up to the second shelf, then planted his foot on an immense, sealed skid of Mr. Clean antibacterial floor kitchen cleaner.
The Arrival on the other side emitted an electronic whine as it backed up. When it reached the end, it turned, shifted into drive, crept past the end of the massive shelving unit, and entered the aisle Archie had escaped to.
It stopped for a moment. Its various screens and sensors, designed to recognize human beings, determined Archie was not in this aisle, either.
The car sat there, as though puzzling it out. He had to have gone somewhere, it seemed to be thinking. His prey couldn’t just vanish.
Archie, having successfully reached the third shelf, paused for a moment to assess his progress. His gaze went to the end of the aisle, his heart pounding.
Tha-thump. Tha-thump. Tha-thump.
The car began to inch forward.
Tha-thump. Tha-thump. Tha-thump.
Archie was barely breathing and not moving a muscle. But the car was slowly and silently moving in his direction.
Tha-thump. Tha-thump. Tha-thump.
Jesus, was it possible? Could the car hear his heartbeat? Or did it have some kind of built-in heat sensors?
The car stopped directly below Archie. The front wheels began to turn sharply, squeaking on the shiny, cement floor. Then, ever so gently, it nudged the shelf with its front bumper. Just enough to send a small shock wave through the metal bracing.
Archie felt the nudge.
The car, he concluded, was sending him a message.
I know where you are.