Jack Beale 00 - Killer Run

Dave.
    Before Jack could say anything else, a gun fired and everyone began to move.

CHAPTER 48
    THE FIRST FEW HUNDRED YARDS of the run went across the school’s athletic fields. The grass was crunchy with frost, and what would have been very flat terrain in the daylight suddenly seemed really uneven and treacherous, even though he was wearing a headlamp. Jack settled into a relaxed and easy pace as he followed Dave and Christos. Well, at least he thought he was following them. In the pitch black he couldn’t be sure. They made their way across the field and onto the fire road, the path lit by a series of green glowing light sticks, some on the ground and others hung in trees. It was a strange and scary sensation being able to see only a very small stretch of the trail ahead.
    The one time Jack lifted his eyes off the trail, he saw a long dotted line of white spots extending out ahead, each made by a single headlamp. That look only lasted a moment because he immediately felt disoriented, almost dizzy, because of the surrounding darkness. Each step was taken in faith.
    As they moved up the fire road, loose rocks and ruts challenged their balance and the strength of their ankles. The sky was beginning to lighten by the time they made the turn off the road and onto a narrow trail. It went up, relentlessly turning and twisting, with switchbacks and very few dips. There were places where trunks of long-fallen trees had to be leapt over or a stone wall crossed. The hill was unforgiving, but as they climbed, so did the sun, ever so slowly.
    By the time they had descended the hill and the trail returned them to the fire road, the sky had changed from black to a light grayish blue. Headlamps were removed and their steps became less tenuous and more confident as the path could finally be seen.
    Jack picked out Dave ahead, although now there were several other runners between them. He could see that Dave was still running with Christos.
    “Son of a bitch,” Jack mumbled under his breath as he rounded a curve and saw ahead that about a hundred feet of the road was under water and runners were splashing through it. It looked to be at least six inches deep and he knew it would be cold. After all, it was November, and the outside temperature was at best still in the thirties.
    He watched as Christos and Dave slogged into the water.
    The closer he got to the water, the wetter, muddier and slipperier the road became.
    “I hate wet feet,” a woman’s voice said behind him.
    He had begun to slow his pace the closer to the water he came. “Me too,” said Jack, too intent on his footing to turn and see who had said that.
    “I’m on your right,” she said as she began to pass him. Reflexively he turned toward the voice to see who it was. His foot slipped, his arms wind-milled, and he cross-stepped as he fought to keep his balance. In that same split second he was trying to keep from falling, she had pulled alongside and, because of his wild gyrations, they nearly collided.
    “Ooh!” she cried out as she dodged away from his attempt to dodge away from her. Then it was over. Neither fell, and no real harm was done, but the water was even closer.
    “Sorry,” said Jack as he finally got a look at her. She had long brown hair that was pulled in a ponytail through the back of her cap. Her ears were cherry red from the cold, as were her cheeks. There was a sparkle to her eyes and she had a big smile on her face. Jack wondered how genuine it was considering their near collision.
    “That’s okay,” she said, waving a red-gloved hand.
    As she pulled slightly ahead, he was able to get a better look at her. She looked like she might be a bit younger than Max, nearly his height and thin, not a skinny thin, but a very fit thin. She was wearing the obligatory black tights, but instead of a loose jacket, she was wearing a form-fitting, long-sleeved racing top that had a short turtleneck collar. It too was black, except for some accent panels of royal blue. She could have been a comic book superhero, as her outfit left little to the imagination.
    “Come on, don’t think about it. If you do, it’ll be far worse than it really is,” she called out to him as she began prancing through the water.
    It was too late to think any more about the water as he followed her lead. He really didn’t begin to feel how cold the water was until his last few steps. As Jack emerged from the water, he slowed and stepped to the side of the road and