Three more blocks and I’d be home, though that prospect was always met with conflicting emotions. The temperature was warm there, but the company was ice cold. It was home though. Right now, with the chilly evening air biting my skin, I’d be content to hide away in my room all night if it meant escaping the bitter wind’s persistent assault. I picked up my pace, ignoring the way my cold muscles objected. And the speed helped. It warmed the core of my body and spread some of that heat to my shoulders and thighs.
Suddenly, a loud screech sounded behind me. It made me skitter forward several steps. It was so close I thought whatever made the sound was going to plow right into me.
I spun around to find the front bumper of a van less than a foot from my calves. The wind had been blowing so hard I hadn’t heard it approach. Nothing but that piercing screech. The driver must have lost control of the vehicle on a patch of ice, and I breathed a grateful sigh, realizing that a few more inches and it could have splattered me like a bug on a windshield. Yes, maybe that was a bit melodramatic, but could you blame me after such a close call?
The driver got out of the vehicle, and I waved to him, letting him know I was fine. While I appreciated his concern, it was still just as cold out now as it had been thirty seconds ago. Since there was no harm done, I didn’t want to hang around to see if I could get frostbite.
“I’m fine, really,” I called above the wind when he continued to approach.
The passenger door opened at the same time, and another man stepped out. He looked unassuming; tall, but lanky. He was probably just concerned I’d been hurt.
Their approach was casual enough that I couldn’t pinpoint any particular reason to be frightened, but an icy shiver tremored down my spine that had nothing to do with the cold wind whipping my long braid against my face.
I hadn’t had a whole lot of run-ins with creepy freaks, but I wasn’t about to stick around to find out if this was one such occasion. So, I turned on my heels and took off like a sprinter. I’d wanted to try out for the track and field team in my last year of high school, but my father had never let me. Right then though, I bet I put the school’s best runner—Julie Wells—to shame. The ground was a blur beneath my feet and the trees that lined the street whipped by.
I heard footsteps behind me, heavy and fast. They were following me, running after me. But I was fast. I could beat Julie Wells around the school’s track course with both hands tied behind my back. So, I fought against the panic that welled in my chest and willed my legs to go faster.
Faster.
But their footsteps grew louder. And louder.
Oh god, they were close.
Within seconds, they were right behind me. Their heavy footfalls sounded against the pavement in cadence with my own. I tried to speed up, to stretch my legs out farther, but I was losing ground fast.
A hand gripped my arm from behind, and I screamed, silently cursing Julie Wells for making me think I was fast. The hand yanked me back so hard my feet came out from under me.
I kicked and flailed, but the vice-like grip on my arm didn’t relent. I felt like a marionette hanging awkwardly on one string.
I screamed louder as panic filled my chest. My breath came faster and my heart beat wildly. I could feel my pulse pounding in my head. I wasn’t beat yet though. I couldn’t give in, I had to fight.
I struggled to get my feet beneath me, and the moment I did, I lunged upward, not to my full height, just high enough to sink my teeth into the meaty hand on my arm. I bit hard, thanking the stars for the incisor teeth I’d always thought were just a little too sharp.
They were the only weapon I had, and I sunk them deep into the hand. A thick, metallic-tasting liquid flooded my mouth. I’d done damage—I knew it, but still, the bleeding hand held firm. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw another hand coming at me—fast.
And the next thing I knew I was lying on the ground. At first, a surge of victory flooded my veins. I’d won. I was free.
My shoulder hurt and my head throbbed, but I’d done it—I’d made him release me. I felt feral…powerful…
…And then I felt like a caged animal. A hand gripped each of my arms and yanked me upright. The faces that hadn’t seemed threatening when the man had stepped out of the van just a moment ago now twisted into evil sneers.