They thanked him and pedaled on, but a mile into the woods, the canopy swallowed the remaining light. Then, Jane’s tire hissed and went flat.
The sun was a bruised orange, hanging low over the French countryside. Cathy and Jane had been cycling for six hours, their legs burning, the map flapping uselessly against Cathy’s handlebars. And Soon the Darkness
The man pointed toward the dark heart of the forest. "The bridge is out on the main track. You go through the trees. Quickly. It gets dark fast." They thanked him and pedaled on, but a
Behind them, a single flashlight clicked on, cutting through the gloom like a blade. Cathy and Jane had been cycling for six
They stopped at a crossroad where a rusted sign pointed toward a town neither of them recognized. As they debated which way to turn, a man appeared from the tree line. He was lean, dressed in a faded canvas jacket, carrying a heavy wrench. He didn’t wave; he just watched them.
"Excuse me?" Cathy called out. "Is the village of Oiron nearby?"