Behind them, a single flashlight clicked on, cutting through the gloom like a blade.
"The shortcut looked fine on the map," Cathy replied, though her voice lacked conviction. The road here was little more than a cracked ribbon of asphalt hemmed in by dense, silent woods. And Soon the Darkness
The sun was a bruised orange, hanging low over the French countryside. Cathy and Jane had been cycling for six hours, their legs burning, the map flapping uselessly against Cathy’s handlebars. Behind them, a single flashlight clicked on, cutting
The man pointed toward the dark heart of the forest. "The bridge is out on the main track. You go through the trees. Quickly. It gets dark fast." The sun was a bruised orange, hanging low
"It’s a puncture," Jane whispered, her eyes darting to the shadows. "Cathy, I don’t like this." "It’s okay. We’ll just walk."
"Stay close," Cathy breathed, reaching for her heavy bike lock.
They stopped at a crossroad where a rusted sign pointed toward a town neither of them recognized. As they debated which way to turn, a man appeared from the tree line. He was lean, dressed in a faded canvas jacket, carrying a heavy wrench. He didn’t wave; he just watched them.