Excerpt
A black sedan glided by as Will jogged toward the next intersection.
They're looking for an address they can't find, Will thought. Then he wondered how he knew that.
A faint marimba ring sounded. Will slipped his phone from his pocket and saw Dad's first text of the day: HOW'S YOUR TIME?
Will smiled. Dad with his caps lock on again. Will was about to text back when he heard the rasp of rubber on wet pavement.
The black sedan. Shrouded by exhaust, engine rumbling in idle, it was stopped in the intersection ahead of him. Will couldn't see through the car's tinted glass, but somehow he knew--whoever was inside was looking at him.
A marimba broke the silence. Another text from Dad: RUN, WILL.