Narrow Escape

The bright moonlight glows through the large picture window, casting shadows across the honey-colored walls. The room is unnervingly still except for the annoying clock in the adjoining room. Abby uses every bit of strength she can muster to swing the long, thin object around.

Antonio grabs hold of the weapon and jerks her to the floor. Pulling the knife from his pocket, he holds it against her throat and growls. "Give me the gym bag, and I'll leave. Scream, and I'll cut you."

Tears stream down Abby's cheeks, she sniffles, points towards the desk, and says, "It's... It's over there."

He looks at the desk and then at her. "If you scream, run, or even attempt to run, I won't hesitate to kill you, understand?"

"Y... Yes." She gulps.

"Good." Getting to his feet, he grabs a handful of her mousy brown hair and drags her across the room. He tosses her in the chair, leans down, and warns, "Don't move a muscle, or else." He holds the knife to her throat. His hot, liquor-scented breath pelts against her face when he hisses, "Got it?"

"Y... Yes," she cries, turning her face away.

He turns the bag upside down. A handful of items fall to the floor. Flipping the pouch inside out, Antonia slashes through the lining. Discovering it's empty, he spins around. "Where is it, huh? Where's the flash drive?" He demands.

"What... What flash drive?"

He shakes the tote. "The one in this bag."

She glances at it and then at him. "I... I didn't see anything in it, I swear."

"I know you've hidden it somewhere. So, you better tell me where it is, and you better do it fast."

"I... I don't know what you're talking about," she lies.

He pushes his knife against her throat. "Give it to me, or else."

"It... It was empty, honest." She nervously looks towards the desk.

"It's in there, is it?" He pulls out the drawer and dumps its contents on the floor. Not finding the flash drive, he dumps out the other reciprocals. Realizing it's not there, he pushes his knife against her throat again. A small stream of blood trickles down her chest when the blade nicks her skin. "Well?"

Tears spill down her cheeks; her body trembles. I wish I hadn't got rid of the thing now.

Fire shoots from his eyes when he growls. "This is your last chance. Either tell me where it is or else. Don't think I'm playing' cause I'm not."

Her defense instructor's words suddenly come to mind. Using every ounce of energy she can muster, Abby pushes him away.

His stout body stumbles backward across the debris. The knife flies from his hand when he lands.

Springing from her chair, she runs across the room.

"You're going to get it now," He growls, springing to his feet.

Unlocking the front door, Abby jerks the barrier open.

He shoves it too. "I don't think so."

"Help me, please, somebody help me," she yells as she darts across the apartment. The intruder's heavy footsteps are only a few feet away. Locking her bedroom door, she runs to the window and shoves the velvet curtain aside. The doorknob jiggles. Abby screams.

The man pounds on the barrier. "You better open this door before I break it down."

Abby tries to open the window, but it wouldn't budge. This is no time to stick. The man beats on the door again.

Abby jerks on the handle. The frame doesn't budge.

"That's it. I'm done playing with you." He slams his body against the door. The wood cracks on impact. "You're dead, Abby, dead." He rams it again.

Abby pulls on it one last time the barrier refuses to move. I have no choice but to break the glass. She grabs the lamp off the nightstand then eyes the window again. It's one of the few things left from the original house. It's either me or it, she concludes.

She starts to swing it around when she remembers the lock. Tossing the light aside, she unfastens the latch and tries again. The window slides up with ease. The cold night air squalls through the room. Abby shivers as she throws her legs through the window. She gazes back to find the door slamming against the wall.

"You're going to get it now," he growls.

Terrified, she darts across the field. The bright, full moon glows from the starry sky; Trees sway with the breeze. Crisp leaves dance around her, crunching underneath her feet.

The small, southern town remains still. I have to get across town, Abby thinks, pushing herself on.

Abby knew this day would come, but she figured it'd be the police chasing her and not some large goon. Being accused of a crime, she didn't commit and a public defender unwilling to do his job, she decided her only hope was to skip town. I'll be alright once I get to the gym, she reassures herself. She's stored a few essentials in her locker for this occasion.

Her legs ache, and her chest begins to burn a little further down the road. This is what I get for not working out. She slows her pace to a power walk. She used to run two miles a day until the weather has turned bitterly cold. She tried the treadmills but soon discovered it wasn't her thing.

Stopping, Abby gasps for much-needed air. I don't know how much farther I can go. She looks up to find her friend's house at the end of the block. Maybe they can give me a lift. Relieved her nightmare is almost over, she sprints towards their two-story home.

Abby knocks on the door and waits. Not getting a response, she pounds harder than before. A dog barks a few houses down, but their home remains quiet. She glances down the road and then at the door again. Maybe they can't hear me. She pushes the doorbell over and over. The device chimes, but no one stirs inside. Why aren't they answering?

A horrific scene from Law and Order comes to mind. The victims are her friends. Their bloody bodies are sprawled out across their unmade bed, a bullet hole in their chest. Abby tries to push the gruesome picture aside, but the horrific image continues to plague her mind. There has to be another reason; there just has to be. She's trying to figure out what it could be when she remembers they're on vacation. I'm glad they're alright, but that leaves me in a heck of a bind.

Abby notices headlights coming down the road when she steps off the porch. She ducks behind a hedge and waits. The vehicle's brakes squeak to a stop in front of the house. He didn't see me, did he? No, he couldn't have.

A car door slams. Peeking around the shrubbery, Abby discovers the tall, muscular burglar walking towards her. Please don't let him find me, oh please don't let him find me, she silently begs.