The figure of a woman burst out of the shadows. She was a flash in the darkness. Her hands were clasped in front of her: begging, pleading.
David Britton slammed his foot on the brakes and swerved dangerously to avoid her. He stared out the windscreen; the car’s headlights pierced the eerie darkness of the mountains. The nightmare vision whirled in his mind.
Cautiously, he opened the door. The frosty air bit through his shirt but he hardly noticed. Slowly, he walked back along the road, peering into the darkness, wondering if he had imagined seeing someone. In the dead of night, it was easy to see shadows and shapes dancing across the deserted landscape.
He shone his torch on the twisting road in front of him, his breath freezing on the night air.
Suddenly, a scream rang out. The hair on the back of his neck stood up. A woman’s cries shattered the silence.
“Help! Please, help me!”
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