Tuesday morning brought a light rain and overcast sky. It was gloomy, but strangely calm. However, two sisters, Deb and Sarah Dhue, were not deterred from their morning walk. They had joined the Silver Striders walking club at Westchester Commons when Deb turned sixty-two.

The indoor track at the rec center was about an eighth of a mile long, but both Dhue sisters preferred it to using a treadmill. It gave them a chance to talk about life and to do a little people watching, which helped them both develop characters for their writing. Deb liked writing poetry and short stories, while Sarah had been writing novels for many years.

The best part about getting to the Commons before eight in the morning was avoiding the muscle heads, as they called them. The grunting and yelling was awful. The only drawback to the track was that it ran right between two sections of free weights, so it was like a tunnel of noise if they came in too late.

"So, how's your new book coming along?" Deb asked as they walked along the section of track suspended over the basketball courts. This was her favorite part of the track because she had always been a fan of basketball and there were six large windows looking out of the small park in front of the building.

"I'm in a bit of lull. I need to come up with a minor problem for the main characters to overcome. Gotta fill some pages," Sarah said.

"Main characters? That is probably your first problem. Call them by name. Everyone knows that getting in their head is the best way to write.

"Right, well, then I need something for Jan and Don Stover to figure out. They are sleuthing outside of Greenville, Illinois in this book."

"How many Jan and Don novels have you written? Seventeen?"

"Sixteen. This will be number seventeen. Not sure how many more I have in me."

"Ah, the possibilities are endless. I still don't know how you manage to put that many words together. My ten thousand word short stories are the best I can do."

"And you are really good at that," Deb said.

"Thanks, but I'm thinking about trying something new," Sarah replied. They heard heavy footfalls on the track behind them, so they instinctively moved to the inside lane. Sarah glanced back over her shoulder to see a young man with arms bigger than her body trotting toward them. He had earbuds in and grinned when he saw her looking.

"Morning, ladies," he said on his way by and laughed. The material of his running shorts swished and they frowned at the poor excuse for a shirt that he was wearing. To them, it was more like the remains of a shirt.

"Gross," Deb said after he had disappeared around the big curve ahead.

"Maybe he's one of those guys that runs two fast laps trying to look cool and then calls it a day," Sarah said. "No stamina, just a show off."

"Hopefully so."

They continued on around the curve into a sort of tunnel that ran between a workout room and the outside wall of the building. In about thirty seconds, they would emerge into the free weight area and they hoped the guy would not be there. They both gave a sigh of relief when they saw that he was not in the workout area or at the water fountains to their left.

"Great, he's gone," Sarah said. "Now, how many poems have you written since we walked last week?"

"Two, but they are still a work in progress. I like the ideas behind them, but the wording isn't quite right."

"And what are they about?"

"The first one is about the blistering heat we've been dealing with and the second is about being kind to those around us," Deb said. "Kinda hard to work on them at the same time since the heat basically makes me want to punch someone in the face."

"I'll walk a little further over this way, I think."

"Very funny."

They reached the elevated track over the basketball courts again, but there was still no sign of the muscle head. Four other Silver Striders had joined them on the track and a few people had started using the stair climbers and treadmills.

When they were almost out of the tunnel on their next lap, they heard the slam of weights and knew the guy was not gone. It was their normal practice to ignore anyone working out, so they kept talking about their writing.

"Huuuuu yaaaahhhhhh," the guy yelled as they walked past. "Hup hup hup hup hup!"

His voice seemed to carry throughout the building and Deb could not stop herself from rolling her eyes.

"That's simply ridiculous," she said.

"Gooooooo Keegan goooo!" the guy's voice called from behind them.

"He's probably compensating for something," Sarah offered.

"Oh, I'm certain," Deb said. "And his name is Keegan?"

"I guess so. What ever happened to names like John or Tom?"

It only took about two minutes to make a lap. They went past him a half dozen times, shaking their heads when he would yell out some nonsense word every time he lifted. Both of them refused to even look at him.

"What do we have, three more laps?" Sarah asked.

"Yeah, that'll put us right at four miles," Deb replied. "I don't hear the grunting and yelling. Maybe he left?"

"We should only be so lucky."

The went through the tunnel again. On the other side, they saw the guy leaning against a support beam and staring at them.

"Well, hello ladies," he said and whistled a cat call in their direction. "I didn't know the hotties came to the gym this early."

"You are disgusting," Deb said, but the guy only laughed. He mopped off his forehead with a thick white towel and turned back to the weights.

"Let's cut it short and finish up on the treadmill," Sarah suggested.

"Good idea," she said and they took a sharp left to get to the machines.

"I hope he doesn't fall and hurt his tiny little brain," Sarah said after getting a quick drink of water.

Half an hour later, the muscle head walked past them on his way to the spiral stairs that led down to the lobby and locker rooms. He gave them each a wink and then laughed. They would only see him one more time.

The older man at the front desk was training two of the younger workers on the membership system on the computer when he went by. He gave a laugh in their direction and shook his head. Working the desk at a place like this was far below anything he would ever do.

He turned right along a short hallway and glanced through the glass on his left to see a few people shooting hoops. He did not like games and especially did not like watching people play stupid sports like basketball. The door to the locker room was on his right and he went in.

Two coves of smaller lockers were in the first section of the room. He always considered this to be the area for beginners and moved on toward the second section, where a full sized lockers held all his workout gear. One older man was sitting on a bench in the second cove of small lockers. He was drying his hair and looked up as Keegan walked by.

"Boo!" Keegan yelled at him, stomping one foot in the old man's direction. He started laughing as he continued on his way.

The area with the larger lockers was empty, as usual for the mornings. Keegan was not the modest type, so he stripped down right in the middle of the locker room. He did not care who might walk through and was proud of how he looked. After looking himself over in the mirror and even kissing his biceps, he grabbed his towel and shower kit.

The showers were in the rear section of the locker room and he took the third shower stall. He hung his towel on the hook outside and stepped in to turn on the water. He preferred near scalding showers, so he had to wait a few minutes for the temperature to climb. Finally, the steam started rolling out over the shower walls and he stepped back in.

"Now, that's what I'm talking about," he said as the hot water washed over him. "Good workout, Keegan. We'll do better tomorrow. Benching four hundred isn't good enough anymore."

He started to hum as he squeezed a blob of Axe body wash into his left hand. The suds formed quickly and he smiled at the scent, which he equated with manliness. He was sure the women would be flocking to him any moment, as promised by the ads.

Minutes later, shampoo from the matching bottle filled his hand. He lathered it up before scrubbing his extremely short hair. He used too much, but did not care because he wanted to be fully covered in the masculine smell.

The lights flickered and he paused for a moment, then they came back on.

"Stupid kids. They should be at school or something," he said.

The lights went out again and the room was completely dark. He waited for about thirty seconds and then started rinsing his hair. The suds swirled around the drain as he twisted the knob to turn off the shower.

"Turn the lights back on you little idiots!" he yelled from the shower area after flinging open the curtain.

The lights came back on and he nodded, knowing he had scared them. He grabbed his towel to start drying off when the lights went out again. This time the emergency lights came on, which seemed odd. The weather was clear and the news had not projected any storms.

The fluorescents lit up again and he waited. He heard some light footsteps and then the lights went out again. This time, only a single emergency sign stayed on. It was in the area where his locker was at, so he wrapped the towel around him and started in that direction.

"Look, whoever is messing with the lights better stop! If that's you, old man, I'm going to mess you up."

Silence was the response. He heard a few more footsteps and decided they sounded like they were coming from the front section, almost certainly the old man he had seen on his way in.

"I'm serious! You are truly going to regret this!"

He walked around the corner into the area where his locker waited. The single bulb glowing on the exit sign near his locker drew his attention. He looked around to see if anyone was there, but he saw no one.

"Fine," he said and walked toward this locker. He was about fifteen feet away when that single bulb went out. "Hey!"

The footsteps suddenly sounded heavier and seemed to be coming from the direction of the smaller lockers. He squinted his eyes, trying to see anything, although the room was completely dark. He took a fighter's stance and prepared himself. The footsteps stopped and he could feel the silence closing around him.

"I'm not afraid of you!"

"I know you aren't," a calm woman's voice replied. Keegan turned toward the voice, ready to fight. "I know what you are afraid of though."

"Are you one of the women from upstairs? This isn't funny."

"Funny? It was never meant to be funny," the woman replied, only this time she behind him. He spun around the face her. She was still invisible through the wall of darkness.

"You don't know anything about me, old woman!"

"Oh, yes, I certainly do," she said, now back in the spot where she had started. He turned back in that direction. "You are afraid of the dark."

"That's ridiculous. Now, turn the lights on!"

"I can smell the panic and fear in the air."

"Ok, weirdo," Keegan said. "I'm done with this. Show yourself!"

"I don't think you really want that."

"Yes, I do! Are you afraid that I'm going to beat you down?"

"As you wish."

The emergency lights clicked back on and he saw the woman in the edge of a shadow. He grinned, realizing it was one of the women he had been teasing.

"The joke is over," he said, a smile forming on his lips.

"Indeed," she said and took a step into the light. Keegan saw that the outfit was right, but the eyes were all black. There was no smile on her face and took a step back. She took a step forward.

"What are you doing?" he said, letting his arms fall a little. "I'm not afraid of you!"

"Not me, but you are afraid of the dark," she said and the lights went out again.

He took a couple steps back, but did not hear her move. He had been in that locker room hundreds of times and knew exactly how to get to his locker. The third bank of full size lockers is where he needed to get, so he turned to move that way as quick as he could. As he rounded the corner, his damp feet slipped a little on the concrete floor. He balanced himself against the wall and kept going. Ten more steps and then he would turn into the cove with his locker.

The lights flashed on as he started to the make the turn, blinding him for an instant. She was standing between him and his locker. He threw up his hands in a defensive motion, trying to stop his momentum. His feet slipped again, only this time he had nothing to balance himself with. He spun mid air as he feet went out from under him and the lights went out again just as the side of his head struck the corner of the wooden bench that stood in the center of the cove. The impact snaps his neck.

Fifteen minutes later, the Dhue sisters started down the stairs from the exercise area.

"Do you have time to get a cup of coffee over at Maeva's?" Deb asked.

"Sure," Sarah said, but then glanced down at the lobby. "What is going on?"

They both stopped on the open staircase and watched as a police officer was talking on his radio, while two paramedics rolled a stretcher toward the locker room.

"Something serious it looks like," Deb said. "Why would the police be here?"

"I don't know," Sarah said and motioned for them to continue down the stairs. They arrived in the area outside the locker room entrances and looked around.

"I'm sorry, ladies," the police officer said. "I'm going to have to ask you to move on into the locker room or wherever you were going."

"What happened?" Sarah asked.

"There was an accident in the men's locker room."

The sisters started toward their changing area when the men's door opened and the stretcher came out. A sheet was over the body, but they both saw the torn shirt and knew exactly who it was. They knew he was dead and a cold chill ran over each of them, thinking back to the angry thoughts they had had about him a short while earlier.