Chapter 39
CHAPTER 39
The gravel crunched beneath Hillary’s feet as she moved swiftly through the crowd, directing stragglers toward the garages. The glow of dawn cast long shadows over the scene, turning the frightened faces around her into ghostly silhouettes. Smoke from the burning house hung heavy in the air, stinging her eyes and throat.
“Keep moving!” she called, her voice crackling with exhaustion. “Help each other if you can!”
A group of guests nearby had slowed to assist an elderly woman struggling to keep her balance. Hillary nodded to them, gratitude flashing across her face. She turned to head back toward the house, her heart clenching at the thought of anyone being left behind. That was when she saw the figure lying in the gravel.
Someone had fallen.
The dim light made it difficult to make out who it was, but instinct drove her forward. She called out as she approached. “Hey, are you alright? Can you get up?”
The figure didn’t respond. They were sprawled on their side, their head turned away from her. Hillary quickened her pace, bending slightly as she reached them. The moment she was within arm’s reach, the figure moved.
A hand shot out, grabbing her ankle with vise-like force.
She stumbled, a startled cry escaping her lips as she tried to pull away. The grip tightened, and before she could react further, she was yanked off her feet. She hit the ground hard, the rough gravel scraping her palms and knees. Pain radiated through her, but the panic flooding her veins drowned it out.
In the low light, the figure shifted, and she finally saw his face.
Michael.
His eyes were wild, his face smeared with soot and sweat. He grinned, a chilling expression that made her stomach twist. “Gotcha,” he hissed.
Hillary screamed, her voice raw and desperate, but it was cut short as Michael lunged forward, clamping a hand over her mouth. The weight of him pressed her into the gravel, her chest heaving as she struggled to breathe. Her heart pounded so loudly it drowned out the chaos around them.
“Shh,” he whispered, his voice dangerously calm. “Shut your mouth.”
She thrashed beneath him, her arms flailing, but he was stronger, heavier. His free hand gripped her wrist, pinning it to the ground. His face was inches from hers, the acrid smell of smoke and sweat making her gag.
“You’re a fool,” he said, his tone dripping with disdain. “Did you really think you could outsmart me? Trick me? Don’t you know who I am?” He laughed, low and menacing. “You’ll never take down a man like me. None of you will.”
His words hit like a physical blow. Hillary’s chest burned as she fought for air, her screams muffled against his hand. Her mind raced, searching for a way out, but her body was frozen with terror.
“I’ll take you all out,” Michael continued, his voice venomous. “One by one. Starting with you.”
Hillary’s vision blurred, her lungs straining against the weight of his hand. Her legs kicked wildly, her heels digging into the gravel as she tried to break free. Her muffled cries were frantic, but no one seemed to notice. The chaos of the evacuation drowned her out.
Michael leaned closer, his breath hot against her ear. “Do you feel that, Hillary? That panic, that helplessness? That’s what I’ll make all of you feel before I’m done.”
Her panic reached a fever pitch as he shifted, pulling her up from the ground in one swift, brutal motion. She stumbled, her legs unsteady beneath her, but his grip on her wrist kept her upright. He twisted her arm painfully, forcing her to move as he dragged her back toward the burning house.
“No!” she managed to choke out, her voice hoarse and weak. She dug her heels into the gravel, pulling against him with all her strength, but it was useless. His grip was ironclad, his strength overwhelming.
“Stop fighting,” he snarled, his voice sharp with anger. “You’re only making this harder on yourself.”
Hillary’s mind screamed for her to do something, anything, but the sheer force of his strength paralyzed her. The flames from the house grew closer, the heat searing her skin even from a distance. She couldn’t let him take her back there. She wouldn’t.
Her free hand clawed at his, trying to loosen his grip, but he didn’t budge. Her breaths came in short, ragged gasps, her vision swimming as panic threatened to consume her.
“Let me go!” she rasped, her voice cracking with desperation.
Michael’s grip tightened, his expression darkening. “Not a chance,” he said, dragging her closer to the flames. “You’re coming with me.”