The night watched the boy. It flowed not far behind him, just beyond hearing, like something painted on the ground by a breeze as Steve would say.

The boy was Jeremy Luther and he was biking home from a Scout meeting two blocks down at his friend Kevin's house. His mom didn't like him being out alone after dark. His father pointed out that he was ten years old and it was after all, only two blocks.

Besides, nothing scared Jeremy Luther, not the dog skeleton they had found in the woods, not the horror movies they watched, and certainly not being alone on his own street at night.

Even so, he found himself peddling hard and leaning into home. Twice he reached to brush away something that tickled the back of his neck.