Devon would have taken the shortcut to Brown Hall, but the weather was so nice that she wanted to delay the inevitable. She nearly reached the archway through Brookings when she felt eyes on her back.
Strange. She hadn’t remembered seeing anyone else on the Quad.
It was such a beautiful day that she thought others would be out there studying, tanning, goofing off, and generally, enjoying the sunshine. But it was the summer session, and few people remained on campus, so it wasn’t all that surprising.
Trying to push away the nagging feeling that someone was watching her, Devon quickened her pace and walked through the archway. She didn’t like being in there anymore than she liked being out in the open on the Quad, but at least in the Quad, she could see whoever was following behind her. It wasn’t likely that whoever the person was would do anything in the middle of the day at the heart of campus.
But the archway at Brookings was different. While it was still a very public place, connecting the Quad and Hoyt Drive, it bottlenecked through the corridor. She felt suddenly trapped even though it wasn’t a far distance. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end, and the blood coursed through her body. She could feel her pulse beating rapidly in each of her fingers, and she swallowed back the cotton balls lodged in her throat.
Devon glanced back over her shoulder, her blonde hair spinning out around her face, as she hoped to catch a glimpse of the person behind her. But no one was there. She didn’t even hear footsteps or anything. Yet, she couldn’t shake the feeling. Whoever was following her was rather adept at not being seen. The only way she would see the person was when he wanted to be seen, and that unnerved her even more.
Dashing through the archway, Devon crossed to the other side, unharmed. Her eyes shifted left and right, looking for anyone waiting to ambush her on the other side. No one was there. In fact, no one was anywhere.
There were no cars on the usually busy Hoyt Drive or Brookings Drive, which led into campus. Cars sat idly by in parking spaces along the road, but she couldn’t see anyone in them. Even on the best day, incoming freshmen flocked the school to make their final decisions about enrollment. Despite her annoyance with them, Devon wanted to know where they were.
She didn’t have more time to think about it. Someone was tailing her and almost instinctively, she knew he was getting closer. Without a backward glance, she barreled down the stairs leading to the street. Devon had walked up and down the soft sloping and seemingly endless staircase more times than she could count, but today, the descent felt excruciatingly long.
Finally reaching the sidewalk on Hoyt, she immediately turned right toward Brown Hall. She had a strong desire to be inside a familiar environment. Plus, she knew the entire faculty, and someone had to be there. Professor Turner was there every day. She had spent countless hours in his office going over assignments and catching up. She never had to make appointments since he was always just there. If no one else were on campus, he would still be there in his loosened tie staring at his Mac. She could get to him. She could make it.
It wasn’t a long walk. It was literally right around the corner. Why hadn’t she taken the shortcut through Busch Hall? All she would have had to do was taken a right before the Quad, walk straight through the Humanities department, and Brown would be standing right in front of her. Instead, Devon had wanted to enjoy the weather, but she wasn’t enjoying the weather right now.
She jogged up the sidewalk, feeling eyes on her from every direction. She felt completely ambushed. They were coming for her. They were closing in. They would get her.
No. She had to be strong and push herself harder. Someone would be inside Brown Hall. If not Professor Turner, then another professor or even a student would have to be there. Devon would make this work. She had to.
Reaching the double doors, she wrenched one open as fast as she could and rushed inside. It smelled exactly as it always had, like too many cleaning supplies had been used to mask the dusty smell of the old building. She padded down the familiar hallways, navigating the corridors like an expert. Professor Turner’s office was on the fourth floor of the building. She knew it was a bad move to run all the way up the stairs. She would be trapping herself in the stairwell, but she didn’t have another choice.
Jerking the door open, she took the stairs two at a time. Her breathing was ragged by the time she reached the top floor, but at least she didn’t feel eyes on her now. Her pursuer must not have known where she went.
Cautiously, she strode down the corridor, searching for Professor Turner’s office. Halfway down the hall, she heard a door click. Her heart leapt out of her chest, she spun around to see if someone was behind her, but no one was there. Although she didn’t get that nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach, telling her someone was watching, she felt like she was in the wrong place, like she had made the wrong move. She felt as if she had accidentally placed her guarding Bishop in front of her opponent’s Queen.
Having no other choice, she moved in front of Professor Turner’s office and knocked softly. “Professor,” she whispered, “are you in there?”
No response.
“Professor, it’s urgent! I know it’s not during school hours, but I must speak with you. There are things I need to tell you.”
Still no response.
“Professor! Someone is following me!” She knocked again, anxious to get out of the open hallway and into the safety of his office.
Yet, no response came.
Devon swallowed back her rising anxiety, and she did what she never would have normally done. She reached out her hand for the door handle, knowing that it wasn’t smart, knowing that it would lead to her downfall, but she had to get away. Whoever was chasing her was forcing her hand.
She twisted the knob and slowly eased it open to a seemingly empty room.
“Professor,” she murmured softly, glancing around.
“Devon,” someone called out.
But she didn’t know who it was or even where the voice came from.
Just then, a hand clamped down on her wrist.
“DEVON. DEVON,” SOMEONE called out to her, shaking her shoulder.
Gasping in air, her eyes shot open, and she stared up at Hadley. She couldn’t breathe, and her heart was racing. No matter what she did, she just kept sucking in dry dead air.
“Hey, it’s alright. It’s just me,” Hadley said, rubbing her shoulder reassuringly. “Are you okay?”