Ah, an opportunity to finally get out of the house.
Madeline jogged down an oak-lined avenue in an anonymous subdivision on a mild summer day. She had taken care to wear her striped workout shorts and matching tank. She had the water bottle, the fanny pack, the hip running shoes, the iPod. She wore a black baseball cap with a curved brim to shield her eyes from the casual onlooker. She looked like an annoying fitness fanatic. Everyone was supposed to ignore her.
"That's her!"
"Wait up!"
She did not turn around. She kept her pace. But that did not keep her heart from pounding or the sweat from trickling down her temples. Oh, if only her water bottle had pepper spray. Soles pounded on the sidewalk behind her. At least they were not following her in a van. Madeline turned on the next corner, saw an open doorway, and made a split-second decision.
Air-conditioning enveloped her like a chilly blanket. She wiped the sides of her face with her arms and sucked in a breath. Outside, she could hear the hurrying footsteps pass the doorway. In another moment, her fingers would start trembling, but she took the time to peer at the shop she had ducked into.
Computers and monitors sat on a display counter close to the front window. The rest of the floor was taken up by racks of cables and extension cords, batteries and printer cartridges. Shelves of packaged electronic hardware, software, accessories lined the walls. At the cashier's counter, a man with dark, spiky hair and horn-rimmed glasses worked on the innards of a desktop computer without its casing. He removed a part, put it on the counter, and then finally looked up at her.
"May I help you?"
A variety of responses ran through her head. Could she use his phone to call 9-1-1? Did he have a closet where she could hide in? Or a costume that she could don? She just shook her head.
