“Kenzie?” His call sounded small and flat against the night, no echo to it. No reply. Another noise now, gone as soon as he heard it. Different. From a different place. Higher? A click, maybe. He told himself it was his imagination, and tried to ignore the voice in his head reminding him he had already seen things that he would never have imagined.

Alex walked faster. The footsteps started again. The dark houses seemed to lean back, trying to get clear. The bend of the road was sinister. Pictures crowded his mind, metal men and flying things with slashing wings. He clutched at the old toy robot. Now would be a good time for the feeling, the power. But there was nothing. He ran.

He sprinted along the street and vaulted a gate, tearing through a garden, hurdling the fence into the next. Landing roughly, he looked back. Was that something moving? Or just rain in the air? A narrow path along the side of this house led to another street beyond. He charged across it, on into more dark gardens. Hunkering down beside a hedge, he watched, listened, then, when he was certain there was nothing, moved in a crouch toward the street and squatted by the gatepost.

To his left there was a junction with another, larger road where there was a bus stop. There might be people, anyway. He threw a last look back as he charged for the corner and so didn’t see the tall figure until he’d run into him.

Alex struggled as strong hands pinned his arms to his sides.

“Finally,” said the voice.

IV.

THE DARK END OF THE STREET

“Led me quite the merry dance, have to say.”

The hands let go as the figure stepped back. Flinching, raising his arm, it took Alex a second to realize he was somehow looking at his grandfather, shadowy under the streetlamps.

“Running through people’s yards,” the old man muttered, brushing down his long gray coat. Between thumb and forefinger he held up a leafy twig from a hedge that had been caught in his buttonhole. “Not really the done thing, Alex. Still, good to get the old pulse rate up every now and then. A little exercise never hurt anyone. Well, so they insist on telling me, anyway. Can’t say I ever fancied it much myself. I mean, the clothes they wear.”

He shuddered, looked up, and beamed. “So, how are you, young man? Sorry not to have been in touch for a while, but—”