Chapter 1

The air inside our old sedan was thick and hot, even with the AC blasting on its highest setting. It just churned the same stale, sun-baked air around, doing nothing to fight the relentless Arizona heat pressing in from outside. I kept my eyes on the shimmering black ribbon of highway that stretched to the horizon, a straight, lonely line cutting through an endless expanse of red rock and pale, thirsty-looking scrub. This was day three of our cross-country trip, and the initial excitement had long since melted away, leaving behind a dull road-weariness.

Sarah and Emily, best friends since kindergarten, taking on the great American road trip. It had sounded so liberating, so full of adventure, when we planned it back in our cramped city apartment. Now, the sheer emptiness of the landscape felt less like freedom and more like being stranded on another planet.

"Are you seeing this?" Emily said from the passenger seat. She had her sketchbook open on her lap but wasn't drawing. She was staring out the window, her brow furrowed.

I glanced over. "Seeing what? More rocks? More dirt? I think I've seen enough to last a lifetime."

"No, look. Out there." She pointed.

I followed her finger. Far off the road, maybe a quarter of a mile away, a figure stood silhouetted against the bright sky. It was hard to make out any details through the heat haze, but it looked human. And it was waving. A slow, deliberate wave of one arm.

"Probably a hiker," I said, my pragmatic side kicking in immediately. "Maybe they're out of water. We should check."

"I don't know, Sarah," Emily said, her voice unusually hesitant. "There's nothing out there. No trail, no other car. Why would anyone be hiking way out here?"

"That's probably why they need help," I reasoned, already slowing the car and starting to pull over onto the gravel shoulder. "Come on, it'll be fine. We have plenty of water."

I brought the car to a stop, the engine ticking in the sudden silence. A cloud of dust we'd kicked up slowly settled around us. I looked back at the figure. It was still waving, the same steady, rhythmic motion. It felt a little odd, but not outright alarming. Not yet.

"Okay, let's just be quick," I said, reaching for my door handle.

But Emily's hand shot out and grabbed my arm, her grip surprisingly strong.

"Wait."

Her voice was a choked whisper. I turned to look at her, really look at her, and the casual annoyance I'd been feeling evaporated. Her face was pale, all the color drained from it. Her eyes, usually so full of artistic curiosity, were wide with a kind of terror I had never seen before. They were locked on the distant figure.

"What is it? Em, you're scaring me."

"Don't get out of the car," she breathed, her knuckles white where she clutched my arm.

"Why? What's wrong?"

I looked back out the windshield. The figure had stopped waving. It was just standing there, perfectly still. As I watched, it seemed to... jerk. A sudden, unnatural twitch, like a puppet whose strings were pulled too tight.

"Sarah," Emily's voice cracked. "Look at its legs."

I squinted, trying to focus through the shimmering heat. The figure's legs seemed too long, too thin. And they were bent at an angle that wasn't right, a backwards-jointed look that sent a cold spike of wrongness through my gut.

Then it started moving towards us.

It didn't walk or run. It scrambled, its long limbs moving with a horrifying, insect-like speed. It covered the distance with a fluid motion that was utterly inhuman, its dark form growing larger in our windshield with sickening quickness.

"Run!" Emily screamed, the word tearing from her throat. "That's not human! Go!"

Her scream broke the spell. My foot slammed down on the gas pedal without a conscious thought. The engine roared to life, and the tires spun on the loose gravel, kicking up a shower of rocks before they found purchase on the pavement. The car lurched forward, fishtailing wildly for a second before I wrestled it back under control.

I didn't dare take my eyes off the road, but I could hear Emily sobbing beside me, her hands covering her face.

"Is it still there?" I yelled, my voice shaking.

A low, scraping thud from the back of the car answered my question. It sounded like something heavy and hard had just been dragged across the trunk. My heart hammered against my ribs so hard I thought it might break them. I pushed the accelerator to the floor, the old sedan groaning in protest as the speedometer needle climbed past eighty, then ninety.

The road was a blur. The red rocks streaked by. All I could think about was putting as much distance as possible between us and that... thing.

I risked a glance in the rearview mirror. For a terrifying second, I saw it. A tall, shadowy shape, its limbs impossibly long and spindly, keeping pace with the car just at the edge of the road. Its face was a pale smudge in the dust cloud, but I could feel its attention on us, a malevolent focus that was more chilling than any physical threat. Then it was gone, falling behind as we raced away.

I didn't slow down. Not for miles. Not until the sun began to dip below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of orange and purple that felt mocking in their beauty.

Only when the needle on the gas gauge hovered precariously over empty did I finally ease my foot off the pedal. My hands were slick with sweat, and they trembled so violently I could barely keep them on the wheel. My entire body felt like a live wire, humming with leftover adrenaline and pure, undiluted fear.

Beside me, Emily was curled into a tight ball against the passenger door. Her quiet, hiccupping sobs were the only sound in the car besides the hum of the engine. The silence that followed the chase was almost as terrifying as the chase itself. It left too much room for the image of that thing to play over and over in my mind: the wrongness of its wave, the impossible bend of its legs, the horrifying speed of its pursuit.

A dry heave shook my body, but my stomach was too empty for anything to come up. We had seen something that shouldn't exist, something that broke all the rules of the world as we knew it. And it had seen us.