I was gaining ground. He was behind me, floundering in the dark as he searched. I could hear his ragged breaths and sense his presence in the shadows several yards away. I could also sense his fury, fully unleashed at having lost me.
I knew if he caught me again, he wouldn’t show what little restraint he had before.He was angry now, uncontrolled – a real wildcard. If I had any chance at all of living through this, I couldn’t let him find me in the darkness.
It was the cobblestone that did me in.
One loose stone, warped enough to set me off balance. When my weight shifted forward, the stone beneath my heel slipped and before I could catch myself, I was careening forward, face-first onto the ground.
I felt the skin tearaway from my elbows and knees as I slid across the rough-worn cobblestones, small pebbles and grime from the alley floor biting into my shredded skin. My temple cracked painfully against the cool stony surface hard enough to make my head spin dizzily, and a tiny, involuntary cry escaped my lips.
Immediately, I clamped my mouth closedto stop the sound, biting my bottom lip hard enough to draw blood.Please, please, please, I chanted, a mantra in my head.Don’t let him have heard me.
For one suspended moment in time my ears strained to hear his movements, but it was utterly quiet once more in the alley. His ragged breathing had been silenced. I could almost picture him, standing stock-still as he tried to locate me in the shadows – listening just as hard as I was, as he crept ever closer.
I knew I had tomove; yet, I remained frozen, lying on my stomach and paralyzed with indecision. Would the sounds produced by my movements only draw him closer? Was I better off simply making a run for it in my heels? Or, did I stay on my stomach and try to crawl my way out?
Before I could make any kind of decision, the choice was ripped from me.
Fists closed around my ankles, dragging me backwards. My hands, sprawled as they were on the ground in front of me, desperately scrambled for something to hold onto. My dress rucked up around my waist as I was towed by the ankles, the rough alley floor scraping my bare thighs raw within seconds. As he dragged me back, I managed to grab onto a shard of loose cobblestone, protruding slightly upwards – likely a piece of the cracked stone I’d tripped over. My fingernails nearly lifted from their beds as I tugged at the disrupted rock fragment, but it finally came loose in my hands.
I had a weapon.
He stopped dragging me, his hands moving up from my ankles to grip the base of my thighs, where my dress had ridden up. His grip wasn’t rough, it was very nearly gentle – more akin to a lover’s caress than a murderer’s sadistic clutches.
I shuddered, fear and disgust overtaking me for a moment, before they were pushed out – overridden by an intense, all-consuming rage at this man, this stranger, who was going to take everything from me.
I wasn’t just angry; I was enraged, I was incensed.
Iwasfurious.
Bending my right knee, Icurled my leg up and sent a powerful kick in the direction of my attacker. In my first stroke of luck all night, my stiletto landed a perfect blow to what I believed was his face, and his hands released me instantly. If the howl of pain he emitted was any indication, I’d caused some significant damage.
Iwas absently wondering if I’d punctured one of his eyes with the sharp heel of my shoe, when I snapped to my senses and sprang to my feet. Throwing out one hand so I was touching the brick wall, I ran flat-out, ignoring the burning pain in my ravaged knees. The wall beneath my hand was my only guide, keeping me upright as I sprinted for the faint light emanating from the end of the alleyway.
I could hear him behind me, cursing and noisilyclamoring to his feet. Then, the pounding of his footsteps echoed in the night as he charged after me, gaining ground with each passing second.
I was getting closerto safety. I could finally make out the street at the mouth of the alley where people were waiting to get into Styx, faintly illuminated by the yellow streetlights overhead. As I ran, I stumbled twice on loose cobblestones and nearly fell over. I would have been a goner, had I not had one hand on the wall to catch myself. My other hand was preoccupied, still tightly clasped around the stone shard I’d pried from the ground.
He was faster than me, even withthe injuries I’d inflicted. I desperately wanted to stop and take off my stilettos, aware they were slowing me down, but I was too afraid to pause even for a moment. I knew that each time I’d tripped, I’d lost a bit of my lead, and he was going to catch me again if I didn’t do something to slow his progress. Though I could see people ahead on the street, I knew there was still a good chance that they wouldn’t be able to hear my screams from this distance – or, worse, that they wouldn’t help me, even if they did hear my cries.
When I sensed he was close– less than ten feet away, if my perception was accurate – I twisted and hurled my sharp piece of cobblestone in what I thought was his general direction. I heard athudas it made impact, and I prayed it had hit him in the head – or at least somewhere painful.
If I could just make it out of the alley, out of the dark, I’d be safe. He wouldn’t be stupid enough to follow me into a crowd of people.
I hoped.
I sprintedfor the street with every ounce of energy I had left in my body. Legs throbbing, lungs aching, head swimming with the effort, I ran until my vision clouded with black spots.
I didn’t listen for him behind me. I didn’t scream for help.I didn’t even breathe.
I justran.
Finally, miraculously, I broke through the entry of the alleyway and onto the semi-populated street. My legs gave out and I collapsed to my knees, my hands outstretched to brace my fall. Down on all fours, I lifted my head to look at the crowd of people standing in line for the club.
Theystood there in their party clothes, looking down at me with their mouths hanging open in shock. Their faces were a kaleidoscope of emotions, ranging from confusion, to disbelief, to horrified comprehension.
I supposed, with my torn dress and bloodied knees, that I did look a bit of a mess.
“Help me,” I whispered, just before my limbs gave out completely and I crumpledto the pavement. “Please…help me.”