Then he waited. The first to arrive was a jogger in sleek athletic wear and wireless earbuds. She moved with confidence, ignoring the faint sign tucked into the hedgerow. As she crossed the mulch line, the sensor clicked.
The mist hit her legs, her shoes, her lower back. She stopped cold. Looked around. Sniffed. Her face twisted, and she pulled her shirt away from her body. Robert, watching from behind the porch curtain, saw her stagger back to the trail, gagging once before sprinting away.