"Hey, Patty, it's Marsha," said thirty-six year old Marsha Benton through her hands free speaker as she cruised west along Westchester Avenue in her silver Liberty.

"What's up, Marsh? Are you off work already?"

"Yeah, I took the afternoon off to run errands. I had to go to the store to buy groceries for tonight and pick up a couple other things for around my house. You are still coming right?"

"Absolutely," Patty replied. "Charlie and Amanda will be there, too."

"Great. It has been way too long since we all got together and..."

"And?" Patty asked.

"Ugh, I hate Westchester. This road is always backed up for one reason or another. I'm just trying to have a good finish to my day after Bill chewed me out for not putting the new cover sheet on a report I turned in. Same information, but apparently he has time to redesign a stupid coversheet. The customers don't even see it! Ridiculous. Then I had an asthma attack. It is the single worst feeling in the world to not be able to breathe right."

"I'm glad you got it under control," Patty offered. "Just think about how much fun we are going to have tonight and I'm betting you got something delicious for us to enjoy."

"Definitely. I'm going to grill out steaks and bake some potatoes. Spinach salad and brownies with ice cream for dessert. The kid at the store was basically useless. He didn't know where anything was and I probably lost ten minutes wandering around looking for stuff."

"You want me to come over a little early and help out?"

"No, I'm just having a rough day. Getting home sometime in the next hour would be nice. It looks like there is some sort of construction up ahead. Cars are stopped. Great."

"Aren't they moving that house today?" Patty asked.

"I forgot all about that," Marsha said, smacking her hand against the steering wheel. "Yep, the right lane looks closed. I should've gone a different way. This ice cream better not melt. Oh, I see an opening."

Marsha stomped on the gas and shot forward along the right lane, which was blocked with orange cones less than half a block ahead. A worker was behind the cone, waving his hands for her to get over, but she saw a burgundy Buick Regal creeping along a few car lengths in front of her. She knew she could jump the line if she could get in front of that car before she got to the cones.

Seconds later, she hit the brakes and swerved to the left. She almost took the front bumper of the Regal, but she squeezed her Liberty into the spot. The worker threw his hands in the air in an angry fashion and she stared back at him, looking none too pleased that they were blocking the road.

"Still there?" Patty asked.

"Yeah, I had to do some fancy driving. Anyway, I'm only a few minutes from home and I need to call my mom before I get there. She'll want to talk for an hour, but I can tell her I have to get out of the car. That always works."

"Okay then," Patty said with a laugh. "I'll talk to you tonight around seven."

"I'll be ready!"

"Catch you later, alligator."

"You are so weird," Marsha said and ended the call.

She sped along Westchester for another mile, moving from lane to lane to avoid people who were driving near the speed limit. She was pleased to catch a yellow left turn arrow at Old Johnstown Road and nearly took it on two wheels.

The speed limit was thirty, but she hit fifty as she raced up the first hill. She topped it and had to slam on her brakes, turning left to avoid a white Ford Taurus that had stopped for a crossing guard near Johnstown Middle School. Her heart was in her throat as she came to a stop almost even with the Taurus. The crossing guard was bear hugging the student that was crossing the road. A look of shock turned to anger as she glared at Marsha.

They finished crossing the street and the other two cars stayed put, letting Marsha cut back over into the right lane. She started to get mad at herself, but then remembered that she was not used to coming through here during school hours. She told herself it was a mistake that anyone could make and finished the school zone at twenty-five. The moment her front bumper reached the 'End Speed Zone' sign, she stepped on the gas again.

Half a mile later, her Liberty roared past the crews working on New Johnstown Park. She gave a quick glance to make sure no one was going to pull out in front of her, but saw that the coast was clear.

The turn into her subdivision was only a couple hundred feet beyond the edge of the new park and she started thinking about how convenient it was going to be once it was done. She signaled her turn and glanced in the rearview at the park. She had been making that turn for over ten years, so it was almost automatic.

Still looking in the mirror, she slowed, knowing that the turn was just ahead. Her eyes snapped from the mirror back to the road in front of her and she once again found herself stomping on the brakes. A man in a neon green hoodie and black shorts was running through the crosswalk, but was trying to stop himself as he saw the Jeep turning in. He slapped the side of her Jeep as she rolled by and flipped her off.

"Watch where you're going!" he yelled, once he saw that she had stopped and was looking back at him.

"You should look twice, you idiot!" Marsha called back.

"I hope you crash!" he yelled and took off running toward the new park.

"Well, I hope you actually DO get hit by a car!" Marsha answered. "Some people are ridiculous. If I wasn't in such a hurry, I'd follow him and tell him exactly what I think about people who just assume they have the right of way in a crosswalk."

Her adrenaline was pumping as she continued down her street, going slower now. Cars were parked at random intervals along the left and right side of the street, so she had maneuver carefully along the road she always said was too narrow. Three gentle curves and two small hills were the only real obstacles she had to overcome to finish her journey home.

As she pulled into the driveway, she clicked the remote to open the garage door. She had made a mental list of things she wanted to get done before her guests arrived and she was feeling a little stressed out. Cleaning the guest bathroom and sweeping off the deck were the highest priority, but she also wanted to make sure the stainless steel grill was spotless. She was proud of it and considered it the centerpiece of her deck. That would have to wait until she could get the groceries taken in the house and put away.

Marsha shut off the engine, clicked the button to close the garage door behind her, and slipped her cell phone into her back left pants pocket. The bags with ice cream and other frozen desserts was in the passenger seat next to her, so she took them first. Although the door from the garage to the house was not accessible from outside, she kept it locked. She cursed herself this time because she had already put her keys in her purse.

Once she had put the first few bags on the counter, she glanced down at her FitBit. She saw that she still needed three thousand steps to get her goal, so she decided to make a few extra trips to the car instead of her normal plan of carrying as many bags as she could physically lift. She also knew that time was short, so she walked a little faster.

The vegetables and meat made it in on the second and third trips. She was thinking ahead to her chores when she opened the door to the garage the last time. She went down the step into the garage and froze.

Standing near the wall on the far side of the garage was a man.

"Hey! How did you get in here? Get out!"

The man had his head down with his arms hanging at his side. She could not see his face and his absolute stillness gave her an even greater sense of unease. Then, she recognized his outfit, which was a green hoodie with black shorts.

"Listen here!" she yelled at him. "If you have a problem with me, that's fine. You can't just come on private property. Get out, right now!"

Still the man did not respond and she started to back up the stairs. She did not want to take her eyes off of the man, so she was searching for the door frame with her right hand. Her left hand was reaching back to grab her cell phone.

"Get out!" she yelled again, the fear becoming evident in her voice for the first time. She grasped the edge of her phone and pulled it out in front of her. "I'll call the police!"

Her heel struck the edge of the step and she had to balance herself against the door frame. In that instant, the man crossed the garage, although she never saw his legs move. His right hand snapped up and grabbed her by the throat, lifting slightly. She swallowed hard as his grip tightened and she took a deep breath, planning to let out the loudest scream of her life. Before she could do that, though, his hand squeezed with inhuman strength and closed off her airway. His thumb was pressed hard into her throat and she looked up at his face for the first time. There was no expression on his face, not anger or even the slightest sign of effort as she struggled against him.

Then, she saw his eyes. They were solid black. Not just the irises, but the whole eyeball. She reached out with her right hand and dug her nails into his left, which had come up to completely encircle her neck. Her mouth moved, but no sound came out. She felt the faintness wash over her as the black eyes stared down at her. With one final swipe of her right hand, she struck him in the face, but it had no effect and she was gone.

Patty pulled into Marsha's driveway about four hours later. Charlie and Amanda were already there and were standing on the front porch. Patty saw they were each holding a bottle of wine and got hers from the seat next to her. She was smiling to herself, thinking of the craziness that was sure to ensue.

"You two didn't have to wait for me to go in!" Patty said with a laugh.

"Oh, well, we didn't want to spoil your arrival," Charlie said. "But really, we rang the doorbell and she didn't answer."

"Really? I bet she's taking a shower or something. She sounded pretty stressed when I talked to her earlier."

"We've only been here a couple minutes, though," Amanda said. "No big deal."

"Right, but I'm ready to get this party started! I'll call her," Patty said with a big grin. She set her bottle down on the porch and pulled her phone from the side pocket of her purse. She typed in her code and tapped the phone icon. Marsha was in the recent calls list and she tapped her name.

The phone started ringing, but thirty seconds later it went to voicemail. Marsha's chipper voice told her to leave a message and that she would get back to her as soon as she could.

"Hello!" Patty said into the phone. "You have guests waiting outside. We don't care if you have your makeup on. We have wine! Open the door."

The ended the call and waited for a moment for a response. She then sent a text and started peeking in through the living room window, but saw nothing unusual. The only light she could see was in the kitchen, although she could not see into that room.

"I'm going to walk around back and see if she's in the kitchen or outside," Patty said to the others.

"Sounds good," Amanda said. "We'll wait here in case she comes to the front door."

"Okay," Patty said, feeling a little uneasy. She dialed the phone as she walked back across the along the front of the house, going toward the sidewalk next to the garage that led to the backyard.

She was close to the corner when a sound stopped her in her tracks. She could hear the phone ringing on her end, but she also heard the ever familiar 'Who Can It Be Now?' ringtone that Marsha used. It sounded like it was coming from the garage and she held her phone away from her ear to make sure she was not imagining it.

"What's wrong?" Charlie asked after seeing Patty stop.

"It sounds like her phone is in the garage," she answered, rushing back over to the porch. She stooped to pick up a small decorative stone and revealed a blue, plastic box about the size of a book of matches. She flipped open the lid and took out brass colored key with a red rubber grip on it.

She dropped the little box and went to the front door. Seconds later, she walked into the house.

"Marsha!" she yelled, moving toward the kitchen. "Where are you?"

"Marsha?" Charlie called up the stairs, but the second floor was dark.

Patty stepped into the kitchen and saw a row of plastic grocery sacks on the counter. She saw ice cream in the first one and could tell it had been sitting out for a while. She glanced around and noticed that everything seems to look normal. Then, she saw that the back door was slightly ajar and knew that was not right. Marsha always kept her doors closed and locked.

"Marsha?" Patty called softly as she pulled the door open. The light was on in the garage and she could see her friend sprawled out in front of her across the concrete floor. One foot was still on the step and her cell phone was about four feet away from her outstretched hand. Patty screamed, Charlie and Amanda came running. Charlie saw Marsha's body, pulled the phone from his shirt pocket, and hit the emergency button.

About a mile away, Josh Lanahan was throwing his running clothes into the washing machine.

"Thanks for washing those stinky things," his wife, Nicole, said as she walked down the stairs to their basement. "You forgot your hoodie though. This thing smells like you haven't ever washed it."

"Yes, I have. Well, I think I have," Josh said with a laugh. "Give it to me."

"How did you get these rips in the sleeve?" she said, holding up the left sleeve before tossing it to him.

"No clue," he said, looking confused. "I must've snagged it on a tree when I was running through the park. They've got part of the path closed off so they can move that house in there and I cut through the trees. Very disappointing, that hoodie is my favorite."

"Think of it as a battle wound," she said with a laugh and went back up the stairs.