Still warm, but grey and dark. There was no sun and no moon to light her way tonight but having grown up in Camden, she knew where to go. The bar was across town, on the bay. She always loved the sound of the water. Unfortunately, where she was moving it was going to be hot and dry all the time.

Zoe pulled up to the bar, eager to see her friends. They were waiting inside for her, drinks ready and with the music turned up. The party lasted long into the night and into the early morning. Zoe was surprisingly more sober than her friends at the end of it all. She was still a bit tipsy though and decided that it might be a good idea to call a cab to take her home.

Walking outside, she said goodbye to her friends. When everyone had gone, she pulled out her phone, but it was dead. The bar was closed and there was no one around. It was against her better judgment, but she climbed onto her motorcycle and slowly rode off.

The wind was sharp against her face, refreshing her, waking her up. She sped up a bit, getting confident, even cocky. Bright headlights came toward her as she turned in the road. She squinted her eyes and leaned her bike toward the side of the road, narrowly avoiding them.

She heaved a big sigh and continued on through the night. It was less than a minute later that the bright lights came up behind her. Zoe turned around and once again squinted her eyes. It looked like the same car that had almost hit her. She leaned to the side of the road, hoping it would pass her, but it did no such thing. Instead, it sped up and came right behind her, gaining on her! Putting her foot on the gas, Zoe sped up. A feeling of dread filled her stomach as the car began to match her speed. They definitely weren’t being rude drivers. They were out to get her!

Zoe liked to think of herself as a skilled rider, even when she was not entirely sober. The road was getting increasingly twisty, but she didn’t slow down to take the curves. In fact, she sped up. She maneuvered the turns expertly. Unfortunately, so did the car. In spite of her best efforts, it was gaining on her and gaining fast.

Before she could do anything, the car bumped into her back tire, shoving Zoe down the road. Her heart was pounding in her ears as she struggled to remain balanced. The car sped up and rammed into her again, harder this time. She felt her bike lose control underneath her. The back tire pulled the rest of the bike to the side, and she swerved around, facing the car as it hit her.

Zoe was thrown across the road, several bones broken, and bleeding from her head. In the back of everything, she could hear a car door open. Soon enough, a figure was looming over her. She tried not to cry, but it was no use. Tears were falling down her cheeks.

“Please,” she whispered to the figure above her.

“Don’t worry,” they replied, “can’t have you dying just yet. That’s not my job.”

That wasn’t the end for Zoe Moore, but it was close enough.