...away from Carrie's body, broken under the spinning wheels of a sports car, away from the last icy echoes of Carrie's laughter, away from the whiskey-soaked kid behind the steering wheel, grinning stupidly at the horror of death and the fury of retribution, away from the wild split-second of violence that had bought Slater Burr wealth and a whole hot armful of love, leaving a drunken kid to pay the bill...

Except for the laughter that chilled his dreams...

Except for the face that leered from the corners of his mind...

Except for the fear that walked behind him...

Slater Burr, on a treadmill, walked faster...