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It was the hottest Halloween on record, but Sylvie didn't care. The Indian summer that sometimes stifled the cold November winds had come early, mid-October, and stuck around. The usual chills of autumn's winds had been replaced by a muggy humidity that seemed to linger like a pall around the town.

That was of no concern to Sylvie. She'd bought the skimpiest, sexiest costume she could find for the big Halloween dance. Every year, the local community college held this dance to raise money for some charity or another. College guys from miles around would flock to this event, knowing that girls like Sylvie would be there, looking hot as nurses, pirates, and cleavage-filled vampires. Although she was barely eighteen, Sylvie had been to these parties before, a crasher incognito.

As she drove her little red Honda down the highway, her heart beat with anticipation. She knew she could pick up some guy there. After all, with her curly blond hair, flawless complexion, and cheerleader's body, Sylvie had never had difficulty with going home with someone. She almost felt sorry for those sorority girls, with their cute little costumes and their anxious eyes; they didn't stand a chance against a hot-to-trot high school girl.

The heat coming through her open window was stifling, but she wanted that wind-blown look. She was dressed as a white-faced ghoul this year, her perky breasts falling out of the tight, white ghost gown, her blond hair streaked with gray hairspray. If her hair was windblown, she'd look the part of the restless spirit, eager to find a victim...and that would be what some college freshman would be.

A flash of light from an oncoming car momentarily blinded her. She swerved just a little, but her passenger side wheel seemed to lose its momentum. She felt the car fly to the side of the road, coming to a stop at the side.

"Great!" she said aloud, along with a few curse words she knew. She got out, looking helplessly at the blown tire. Now, she would be very, very late to the dance.

She looked around. Even though it was only seven o'clock, the highway seemed bizarrely empty. There were no cars coming in either direction. Sylvie was utterly alone.

"Guess I can walk," she told herself, her mind racing. It seemed so dark out here in the heat.

She started up the road, wobbling on her white stiletto heels. Poor planning, as usual. She imagined she looked like some zombie ghost haunting the area.

She'd walked for maybe half an hour when a car passed. She waved at it,

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