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she got back. She would ask him where he was, even if he was only gone for a few minutes, and she no longer believed him if he told her he was at Zen’s.
    If she did not like his answer she would drive him nuts asking questions. It made his life simpler to just be there when she arrived rather than endure endless grilling about his activities. It would be easier if he could work at home but that was impossible. What he was creating was potentially lethal and he could not take the chance that Andrea might, on the pretense of cleaning it, break into his room and be exposed. She’d done it before.
    He shut down the computer and relocked the door; on his way out he grabbed a handful of cookies and refilled his water bottle. He ate cookies as he sped down the dirt lane behind the house that led towards town. He finished the last cookie and was sweating in the warm September sun by the time he reached the corner at Munn Road and Steady Drive but instead of turning towards the city he turned on Munn’s towards the industrial section.
    He rode for another five minutes then slowed his bike as he approached the high wooden fence that ran the length of Layton’s Auto and Truck Wrecking yard. He stopped and wiped sweat from his forehead with his shirt sleeve then grabbed the water bottle from its holder and took a long pull of cool water.
    He turned his head and looking over his shoulder to see where the sun was in the sky. It hung above the aspen trees on the crest of Wilson Hill; the ideal height. With only two hours he did not have time to waste but the conditions were perfect he could feel the need draw him. It would not take long to make one pass though there was always the possibility he could get stuck and that would be bad.
    He leaned forward with his chest on the handlebar and looked at the shadow cast by his wheel spokes on the gray packed-earth trail. The line between shadow and light was crisp; it indicated the high quality of the early autumn light. The familiar pulse of excitement began to tic within him and he shivered with anticipation.
    The day had been hot and the air was still warm but the prospect of a run in this perfect light sent an icy chill of need cascading through his senses. Before he was completely drawn in by this need he remembered to repeat the safety words Zen gave him.
    “Once,” he spoke the word solemnly then gazed along the length of the fence trembling with anticipation.
    “Only once,” he repeated.
    When he spoke the words he mimicked the extra emphasis Zen put on them and this gave the words more power, even as his excitement built he could feel his control strengthening.
    ‘ Only once Tyler. That’s the deal, only once. Okay?’
    He could hear her voice in his head and he repeated the phrase again.
    “Only once.”
    He spoke the words softly one more time and he was ready. He turned the handlebar to the left, lifted the bike by the seat, and kicked the pedal to spin the rear wheel and shift down to first gear. He dropped the bike and the spinning rear wheel kicked up a rooster tail of dust as he hopped on and began to pedal. He followed the slope which led to the footpath that ran along the fence behind Layton’s.
    It was a path that generations of kids had used as a shortcut; the soil had been pounded into fine grey dust from shoes and wheels traveling along the gently undulating rise and fall of the land. He checked ahead to be sure there was no one on the path, he nearly run down a group of school kids last time. He leaned forwards as he peddled putting his face down as near to the handlebar as he could without bumping his chin and picked up speed. Ahead he saw the yellow weathered top of the wrecked school bus in the junkyard and he tilted his head up slightly. Turning his face towards the fence he swiveled his eyes upwards; the fence pickets became a blur in the periphery of his vision.
    Two more rotations of the pedals and individual fence boards came back clear and sharp in his