The gray sky had given the entire landscape a monochromatic feel as Sharon sped down the boulevard toward Bellmore. Dreaming of her comfy sofa in Greenwich Village, she watched the mist that seemed to hang motionless in the air. Although it would have been more pleasant on a sunny day, vacations had to be taken when they were available. One simply had to make the best of what life offered.

A car horn yanked her back to reality and reinforced her resolve. As the minivan sped off, Sharon pulled up her hood and continued on.

Dreaming of the upcoming century ride helped her relax despite the traffic. The idea of topping 100 miles always held a special thrill, but when you add the beauty of eastern Long Island the anticipation was almost palpable.

While the humidity was washing off the sweat of the past 5 hours, it couldn't remove fatigue. It was definitely time for an energy bar break. When the next deli appeared at the corner, she veered in and locked up under the overhang.. It was your typical small town store, with glass fronted refrigerators, and a little of everything on the shelves. There were trays of lox, muffins, and various delicacies to taunt the consumer. But knowing how many miles lay ahead, Sharon went straight to the fridge for a sports drink. The perspiration on the bottle reminded her of the wet March weather outside. Then she grabbed a box of crackers and brought them to the counter.

"You look a little worn out." Commented the clerk, "Are you all right?"

"Yea, I'm okay." she replied, just the crappy weather outside."

"Well, I guess you just have to take the good days with the bad."

Sharon agreed nonchalantly, as she put a couple of dollar bills and some change on the counter. "Have a good day."

When she left the store, she immediately tore open the box of crackers, and started munching on her way to a bench. She spent ten minutes stretching out her tired legs while various customers stared at her bike. Then she leaned back against the building to let her food digest for a few minutes. Her eyes weren't closed more than 5 minutes before a shadow fell across her eyes.
"Hello?" called a woman in her mid 40s. As Sharon looked up, the woman commented, "Oh, you looked dead."

"Just dead tired," Sharon replied.

"I wouldn't say this is the best weather to be out riding your bike in."

"Well, I'm almost home" she said, knowing that this tended to put off all but the most determined "and the rain will help cool me off."

"Do you need a ride home?" the woman replied, "I could put your bike in the back of my truck."

"No thank you." Sharon replied, wondering why people always thought you were less of a person if you didn't have a car. "I like to get home under my own power, but thank you very much for the offer."

"Well good luck on your trip." Replied the woman. She continued to look back worriedly as she headed for the store.
90 years ago preparing for the weather meant nothing more than pulling on a hat. But in today's world, it was clear that no one could fathom the idea of even being outside of an air-conditioned box unless it was dry and 75 degrees.

Sharon rested another 10 minutes before getting back on her bike, and forcing her tired legs to take her the last 5 miles or so toward the train station. Less than 2 seconds after she left the curb she saw it. The olive green Cadillac was heading down the right turn lane right toward her, she frantically tried to force a little more speed out of her legs, and push out of the way. A grinding rattle however told her that the derailleur wasn't shifting properly. She struggled to gain momentum, all the while waving one hand to try and catch the drivers attention.

Robert Ingelstein was sitting at the stoplight wondering how much his CD had gained when he saw a green caddie heading down the right turn lane next to him. The driver was straining to hold his cell phone while keeping an eye ahead to see the oncoming traffic. Suddenly the Cadillac skidded to a halt, with a screeching of tires. Caught off guard by the suddenness of it, Robert rolled down his window to get a better view through the rain. All he saw was a bicycle handlebar sticking out from the back of the car. Horrible thoughts raced through his mind as he tore open the car door. Racing over to offer some kind of help, he said a prayer of thanks for the company's red cross class. When he reached the victim, his stomach seemed to force it's way his throat, constricting the last breath he took. The only sound he could make was a squeak. He stared for several minutes at the poor girl. Finally his breath came out in a long winded sigh. It was immediately apparent that there was nothing to be done for her. She had apparently been thrown by the impact, and before the driver noticed what he'd done, he had crushed her chest. Robert had to force his eyes away from her wide gray ones, which expressed a terror he never expected to see outside of a movie theater. His attention was thankfully broken when a small Italian man stumbled out of the car and just stood motionless next to the bloody fender. "How in G-d's name could you do such a thing?!" It seemed to escape his mouth of it's own volition. But there was no response from the man. He just kept repeating "Oh G-d, Oh G-d, Oh G-d" in a whisper. He put his jacket over her face and forced himself to walk over to the corner deli, all the while keeping a sharp eye on the driver of the Cadillac.

Vinnie Marillo jumped out of the car almost as soon as it stopped. However he couldn't bear to look at the woman's body. Even a quick glance was enough to make his stomach play leapfrog with his insides. He bent over the car and rested his face in his hands. The rain which dribbled down his shirt going almost unnoticed. His insides were still doing various kinds of acrobatics. The words of the man in the other car kept echoing in his head.

"How in G-d's name could you do such a thing?!"

He had a terrifying urge to run, to hide somewhere so isolated that nobody would ever find him. But of course that was ridiculous. The other man was already walking toward a payphone. Finally in a moment of shear panic, he leapt into his car, did a sharp screeching U-turn, and drove away as fast as the old caddy would take him. He headed straight for the Southern State Parkway and drove east. On a rainy Sunday afternoon, he didn't expect much traffic, and he got just that. Keeping the car below 60 was a monumental effort, but he couldn't afford to get stopped for speeding at this point. He glanced in the rearview mirror, and at last his worst fears were realized. An old black and white pulled onto the parkway and flashed it's lights behind him. Vinnie disbelievingly took a second look, and it was gone.

"You're acting too paranoid Vinnie," he told himself, "your gonna get yourself killed just as surely as that bitch did."

Speeding down the parkway, he kept telling himself that it was her fault, that she should have looked before going into the street. She should have had a light shining in this rain, or honked a horn. Why the hell did this have to happen today of all days. He was supposed to be at LaGuardia by now, on his way to a long deserved vacation. He'd been planning this trip for months, and everything had been running along smoothly.

"Until that bitch had to go and ruin it by not looking where she was going." He finished the thought aloud
He was just reaching west Hempstead, when a glance in the rearview mirror brought a look to his face that made him look twenty years older. Less than 50 meters behind him was a bicyclist racing along the parkway, and she was gaining on him. Vinnie jammed his foot down on the accelerator, and the car leaped ahead. Now the speedometer was nosing toward 90 mph. And as Vinnie glanced in his rearview mirror, he saw the woman fall back a little.

"How in the hell does a biker get on the parkway?" Vinnie wondered aloud, "More importantly, how does she go so fast?"
Vinnie took another glance in his rearview mirror, praying that the road would be empty. But there was that biker again, and still she was gaining. Vinnie swerved right and left, jerking the steering wheel with a strangle hold.

"How in the hell can this be happening?!" Vinnie thought. He didn't know why he was so terrified of a bicyclist who could top 90 mph. Maybe in the back of his mind, he noticed a faint splash of blood on the frame of the bike, which didn't seem to wash away in the rain.

Robert had to hold onto the telephone to keep from collapsing. His legs felt like jelly, and his insides still seemed to be trying to rearrange themselves. He dialed the operator and in a shaky voice, asked to be connected with the police.

Bellmore police department," the officer sounded very bored "sergeant O'keath speaking."

"Uh, he..hello? I'd like to report a murder. At Bellmore Ave. and Jerusalem."

"Okay, what's your name." He replied, thinking that this was getting to be a very long day, and he had wanted to be out on duty.

"My... my name? Uh..oh yes. My name. My name is Robert Ingelstein."

Suddenly the sound of screeching tires made Robert jerk his head around just in time to see the Cadillac racing away down the road.

"Holy shit!" exclaimed Robert.

"What is it Robert?" asked the officer, while motioning for one of the lieutenants to put a tap on the line.

"Um, uh....The guy...the guy who killed her....um. HE JUST DROVE AWAY!" Robert shouted, wondering how this man could be so calm when a person had just been killed in cold blood.

"Alright alright, calm down. Just tell me what you saw from the beginning." said the officer. He pushed the mute button and looked up at leutenant Willis.

"It's a pay phone on Jerusalem and Bellmore Ave." replied the man.

"...and so I walked over to the girl, and tried to help, but when I uh looked at her face. That shocked innocent face. Um I'm sorry you'll have to give me a few minutes.

"It's okay," replied the officer, "we'll send a car down there immediately. Just stay where you are."

Now the speedometer was easing past 3 digits, and still the bicyclist was closing the gap. Suddenly a shrill laugh pierced the sky, and the hair all over Vinnie's body stood straight up. He suddenly remembered an expression, "A person who seeks revenge should dig two graves." He didn't know where this thought came from, but he did know that a grave was the last thing he wanted to think about at the moment. Now the gap between them was down to 10 meters, and Vinnie recognized the color of her hair, it was the same as the hair from the girl he had run over. Those dark gray eyes no longer had a terrified look to them, now they seemed to express a fury which pierced his very soul. He knew that face would haunt him for the rest of his life, but he didn't think it would be literal. Finally he could stand it no longer, he cut across three lanes and came to a screeching halt by a grove of Chestnut trees. He reached into the back seat, and grabbed the rifle that he had been saving for his hunting trip in Maine. He glanced into the rearview mirror with a haunted look in his eyes, expecting to see a bloody face looking back at him. But just as suddenly as she had appeared, she vanished.

Vinnie put the gun back behind the seat with violently shaking hands. He had to use every bit of will at his disposal just to turn on the radio.

"Police are still looking for the driver in an apparent hit and run accident in south Bellmore today. A local finance adviser named Sharon Stevens was struck down as she crossed the str..."

Vinnie quickly turned off the radio. Sharon Stevens, so that was her name. Vinnie hoped that she didn't have any children who would be waiting for her. Vinnie sat for more than an hour trying to think of what to do next. Was he losing his mind? Was the guilt of murdering an innocent girl going to turn his life upside down? He seemed to have more questions than answers. Finally he got up enough courage to start the engine and pull back into traffic. A long horn blast sliced the air as an angry driver passed around him. The suddenness of the noise made him jump so fast he bit his tongue.

"Go fuck yourself!" he screamed at the driver, knowing that the guy wouldn't hear him.

Vinnie sped farther and farther down the turnpike, watching the first beginnings of leaves in the nearby trees to try and relax himself.

"Okay, so instead of taking a vacation in Maine, you'll just have to change your vacation to Suffolk County." Vinnie told himself. "That's not so bad, it's rural, with lot's of trees, and you can probably find a state park to go hunting in. You'll have a great time."

But his thoughts were interrupted by that same maniacal laugh which pierced the afternoon. Vinnie couldn't get himself to look behind him. He knew who was making that sound, and he knew she was closer than he cared to think.
A high pitched screech sent chills down his spine, as paint chips flew from the side of the car. The whole vehicle seemed to shudder as if from the touch of that ghostly menace. Suddenly a face more fearsome than satan himself appeared through the side window. The woman who had only been killed 2 hours ago, looked as if she had been dead for a month. One eye dangled from it's socket by a piece of rotten flesh. Lines of red criss crossed her face like some horrid piece of surrealist art. Her chest caved in sickeningly, and ribs stuck out of it at drunken angles. She turned to look at him, and with a voice that reeked of disease and decay, she told him that she would have her revenge, at any cost. Vinnie screamed like a 3 year old child and jerked the wheel with all his might.

"So what happened here?" asked the police officer "Looks like this mess'll take most of the day to clean up."

"Some crazy guy must've jerked his car the wrong way, slammed it into the overpass support." replied the woman on duty "Betcha a box of doughnuts he was drunk."

"Looks like he was topping a hundred when he did it." the cop shook his head "we'll have to clean this guy up with a towel."
She had the look of someone who was used to this. "I've called in a tow truck and a road crew to try and get this lane open by morning. I'm going back to the station to write up a report."

"Alright I'll see that this gets finished." replied the cop.

"By the way, did they ever catch that hit and run driver in Bellmore?" She asked nonchalantly "Last I heard he was heading in this direction."

"Nope, nobody's seen him yet." he replied "Frankly I don't really give a shit. I'm tired of these bikers always gettin in the way a traffic."

"Well it's a murder nevertheless." replied the woman

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