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the other way. She could scream out. But why? The man hadn’t done anything. She remembered him from the store. He’d seemed slow. Anyway she could out run him if he started anything. But what if he had a gun? And where was Ferret Face?
    The big man started to move. Coming toward her at a walk. He was still quite a distance away and she couldn’t see his face yet, but she knew it was him.
    Maggie backed up a step and the man stopped. She stopped too. Had he come here for her? Why? He’d certainly known her in the store. Or at least he thought he had. What was it he’d said? Saw you in the newspaper. She’d been afraid then, a little. That’s why she’d left the cart.
    Again she thought about shouting out, but the joggers were farther away now. Almost out of sight, out of hearing distance.
    “ Wanna come to the van?” the big man called.
    “ I’m outta here,” she muttered.
    “ What?”
    Maggie spun around and poured on the speed. The man was nuts, she thought as she ran back toward the pier. She looked up toward Ocean Avenue on her right. There were people up there. A two minute sprint across the sand and she’d be safe. But Ferret Face might be up there, too. Waiting.
    She kept on, running strong. She looked left, out over the sea. She saw the lights on that sailboat. It was inside the breakwater. She was a strong swimmer, but could she get into the water before the man was on her? She didn’t think so. She kept on.
    There was a country and western bar at the foot of the pier, just past the pool. There’d be people there. Rednecks. A shout for help and that guy would be toast.
    Maggie was fast, but the man behind was gaining, wheezing his breath in and out. He was a train, too. She pumped her arms faster, forcing her legs to match the rhythm. But still he was gaining. His breath, louder now, churning up the tracks.
    She felt like she was going to explode as she pumped her arms still faster. She was sprinting all out toward the dark stretch of sand between the pool and the pier. She couldn’t let him catch her there. She turned and started chugging up the sand toward the bar, sucking air, lungs about to burst.
    The pool was a thing out of a horror story, Dark glass and concrete climbing three stories out of the sand, blocking out Ocean Avenue, blocking out help. She was alone in the world with her pursuer, the distance between them shrinking.
    She saw the bar. She was going to make it. The door opened on a black van parked under a streetlight in front of the bar. She was about to shout out for help when Ferret Face stepped out of the van.
    He had a gun.
    Virgil was almost on her.
    She dropped to the sand.
    “ What?” Virgil shouted as he tripped over her.
    She scrambled to her feet and was off, sprinting like she was running the hundred yard dash back in high school. She was so exposed, her back a wide target. She made for the pier. There was someone under there. Scary probably, but someone.
    “ Get her!” Ferret Face shouted out.
    The space under the pier was a dark tunnel to the sea. Waves whipped around the pylons, echoing through the blackness like a hurricane swirling through her soul. She kept her speed up, dodging the pylons till she stumbled over something.
    “ Hey,” someone shouted as she fell. She hit her head on something hard, but she didn’t have time to worry about what it was, because she was tangled up with a man. Rancid breath, hairy. She pushed away from him and sprang to her feet.
    “ I’m guessing you came here looking for safety.” Laughter. Maggie turned. It was a black man, wiry hair akimbo, beard to his chest. He smelled like he hadn’t bathed, ever.
    “ Men after me.” Maggie panted. “One has a gun.”
    “ We know,” the man she’d tripped over said. He was white, but you could hardly tell through his dirt covered face. His hair stuck out like he’d been electrocuted, his great beard was matted. There was a smell here, Maggie could easily imagine it coming from