Somehow, they always knew. Simon liked to think it was some long-forgotten animal instinct. The way a dog could sense the difference between an animal lover and an animal abuser. The way elk always seemed to know when to bolt, leaving only seconds and inches to spare between them and the hunter’s bullet. Either way, though, the ending was always inevitable. And he was patient. He vaguely wondered what wires had been crossed in the evolutionary chain that led women to believe it was perfectly safe to walk alone down darkened alleyways. Not that he minded; on the contrary, it made what he came to do all the more enjoyable. He could take his time; feel the pulse under his palms, slowing, fluttering, dying. Listen to the wordless gasps for air. Watch the light in their eyes flicker, then fade. He felt his own heart rate quicken in anticipation, and he forced himself to focus. She would be passing by his spot soon enough. They always expected the attack to come from behind. He supposed it made a lot of sense, in a way. Looking over one’s shoulder was one way to try to anticipate a surprise. He had tried the strategy of sneaking up on his targets before, but it usually resulted in a lot of unnecessary running and screaming. That sort of thing tended to draw no small amount of unwanted attention. Over time, he learned: the key was to pick the right alleyway. Preferably something near a good source of parking and with some obstructions in the way, large enough to hide behind. Women seemed to expect to be followed; they rarely seemed to anticipate that their assailant would be waiting for them. This one was ideal: a lonely shop clerk. It might be days before she was really missed. The holidays did that to people. In all the hustle and bustle, what was one more missing relative? Her footsteps drew closer and sounded off of the walls of the alley. He remained standing comfortably on the opposite side of the dumpster. She came into view quickly, moving at a quick little jogging pace, but she was looking over her shoulder, not to the side. He remained still as she passed. He had chosen his spot perfectly: just close enough to the supposed safety of the end of the alley. Her steps slowed as she passed him, and he saw the relief on her features, the pause as she let her shoulders sag and perhaps chided herself for being so paranoid. His movements were fluid as he stepped up behind her and clasped his hands around her throat.