Jaenor looked at the destroyed dashboard where the speaker was mounted.
"If you want this to end," the voice continued, "come to 20 Graham Street in Joyhills. Tonight, alone."
The speaker clicked off.
Jaenor stood in the middle of the street with a wrecked car smoking behind him and Vivian trembling beside him. Around them, other vehicles had stopped. Pedestrians were emerging from shops and offices, drawn by the sound of the crash.
Phones appeared. People were filming, calling emergency services, and creating the particular chaos that accompanied any public incident in a modern city.
Jaenor looked at the gathering crowd, at the attention that was about to become overwhelming, and decided to leave. Though it was too late, some of the people had noticed his inhumane build and the unbelievable thing they had just witnessed.
He grabbed Vivian's hand.
"We're leaving. Now."
"But the—"
"Now."
