She'd reacted by simple reflex, reversing the truck off the bridge as much by instinct as by automatic skill.

Now, looking back at the bridge, she considered the scene before her. She was still unable to make out much beyond the sillouhette of the solitary figure standing there ... the solitary figure that had yet to move at all. Charlene was right, there was something very wrong here.

"Jon, what exactly did you see?"