Something happened on the way there. Something I maybe should have paid more attention to.
I didn’t think anything of it when I saw the motorcycle parked on the side of the road. I only frowned, wondering who would have left that pretty Honda Storm alone on the shoulder, slowly being covered by the snow that had already begun to fall. Half a mile later, under snowfall that was growing thicker, I saw someone walking in the same direction I was heading.
It was a man—clearly. Tall and slender, with the athletic, flexible build of a dancer. He wore a black biker-style leather jacket, jeans, and mountain boots of the same color, his head barely wrapped in a purple scarf with a checkered weave. That was very little clothing to be walking in that weather. There were still another four and a hal
