21. Hunted #2
I feel around for my purse on the passenger seat and find my phone inside it. The screen now provides the only light in the car, and I google a local tow truck company, panicking about how am I going to pay them. But just as I’m about to open my browser, my phone vibrates with a text message.
Unknown: I see you.
What? I frown, looking left and right, but it’s dark outside and all I can see is the rain hitting my car’s windows.
The deserted road suddenly feels menacing in the dark and stormy night. Anyone could be out there watching me.
I don’t know what to do. Maybe I should just stay put and call the tow truck. If I lock both doors, hopefully I can wait here and whoever is out there will leave me alone if there are other people around.
My phone vibrates again.
Unknown: You’re a pretty sitting duck. Just waiting for me to come and hunt you down.
A shiver works its way down my spine. Is my stalker really out there?
Light invades the interior of my little car just for a moment as a bolt of lightning tears the black velvet of the night sky. I brace myself on instinct for the sound that I know is about to follow the light, and that’s when I see him.
Someone in a black hoodie that covers their face is standing right behind my car.
I can’t see much, as the light lasts just a couple of seconds.
A part of me even wonders if I really saw someone or if the hooded figure is just a figment of my imagination.
Unknown: Quack, quack, little ducky.
The vibration of my phone makes me jump, and I drop it.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. I was so panicked that I didn’t even think that I could use the flashlight app so I wouldn’t be in the dark.
I need to get it from the floor, but as I attempt to bend down, something keeps me locked into place.
In the panic of breaking down, I didn’t even unbuckle my seat belt. I feel my way to the side and click the seat belt free.
Feeling down at my feet, I can’t find anything.
“Dammit!” I strain to reach under the pedals and, thank goodness, my fingers touch the smooth surface of my phone case.
As I straighten myself up, the car jolts forward and I hit the steering wheel with my head.
Pain blooms on the side of my forehead, but that’s the least of my worries right now.
The car keeps shaking as if someone were pushing it. It doesn’t last long. I doubt my stalker was trying to move my car; they’re probably just trying to scare me. And they’re doing an excellent job.
Maybe I should call the cops, but even in my panicked state, I hesitate. They’re gonna have questions that I might not be prepared to answer. Besides, who knows how long it’s going to take for the police to get here. By then, I might be dead if the person outside gets to me first.
Another bolt of light scars the sky, and I catch another glimpse of the hooded figure. They’re no longer behind the car; now they’re standing in front of it.
Crack! Crack! Crack!
More thunder and lightning clap with a deafening noise, but as the car begins shaking again, I realize that the loud sound isn’t coming just from the thunder.
The flashes of light that precede each thunder show me more of what’s happening outside, and a part of me preferred the darkness.
My stalker is hitting my windshield with something heavy, and it’s only a matter of time before they break into my car.
I can’t stay here.
If they get me, I’m pretty sure they aren’t going to ask for my autograph.
The way I see it, I have one chance to run for my life.
While the obvious choice would be to run toward camp, in the direction my car was headed, that would mean running past my attacker.
I’m probably better off running in the opposite direction and using the surprise factor of getting out of the car to my advantage to get away. The road is dark, and while that hinders me, it hinders my stalker too. To catch me, they’re gonna have to see me first.
Another blow to my windshield causes me to wince. I need to go before the windshield breaks, but I have to time it right. I’m only going to get one chance at this. And I don’t like my odds if the hooded stalker gets their hands on me.
It’s difficult to get my timing right because I can’t see much.
My best bet is probably to let the sound of the heavy object hitting the tempered glass guide me.
If I get out right when I hear a hit, I hope my attacker will be gearing up to deliver another blow.
That should give me a few precious seconds to run as far as I can and lose my stalker.
If I can’t run to camp, my best bet is probably to head to the gas station right at the beginning of town. It was open when I drove past, and I doubt my attacker will want to be seen by whoever works there.
With my hand on the handle, I listen for the next blow. My muscles are tense to the breaking point, ready to propel me out of the car and hopefully to safety.
It’s still raining outside; I can hear it through the noise my attacker is making and the pounding of my own heart in my ears.
Clonk.
That’s it. It’s now or never.
I push my door open and dart out of the car. The asphalt is wet and slick with water, and I almost immediately face plant before I’m even two feet away from my old Volkswagen Beetle.
Maybe my luck hasn’t completely run out though, because I don’t fall.
The good news is that I didn’t decide to wear heels to my exam. The bad news is that I went with cute ballet flats, and they don’t have a lot of traction on the wet ground.
It takes less than a minute for me to be soaking wet, but I don’t care. My eyes have gotten used to the darkness, and while I can’t really see much in this weather, I can see enough to keep running in some kind of straight line.
I’d be tempted to turn on my phone’s light, but I don’t want to help my attacker either.
There’s no doubt that my stalker is chasing me. I can hear their harsh breaths and they’re getting closer.
For a second, the rain decreases enough to help with the visibility, and I make the mistake of turning around to check how close my stalker is.
Not only do I spot the hooded figure closer than I was hoping. If you look behind, you can’t look in front of you. My foot catches on something; I don’t know what. It could be some debris on the ground or a small pothole.
It doesn’t really matter.
This time I can’t keep my balance and I go down like a sack of potatoes.
My hands shoot out to take the brunt of the fall, and I land on all fours.
Something, or I should probably say someone, lands on top of me.
I scream as I fight to get away from my attacker. We roll around and I end up on my back.
My stalker is straddling me, but with the hood low on their head, I can’t see their face. All I can see is black, and I realize that they’re wearing some kind of face covering. Maybe a bandanna or a balaclava.
In the scarce light of this deserted road, I can’t make out any features. The one thing I can pick up on is the malevolence that radiates off of them, like a tangible energy.
My attacker is tall and strong. I can’t make out their build as I realize that their clothes are quite baggy.
It could be Gen. or it could be a man. But I refuse to believe it’s Nash. Despite what Jodie thinks, and despite the fact Nash saw me at that party, I just know that he would never torment me like this or try to hurt me.
My ears are ringing as I struggle to get free. The hooded stalker is heavier and stronger than me, and I’m pinned under their weight.
“What do you want from me?” I yell, but my voice is drowned by the blood roaring in my ears and by the rain still pouring on us.
There is no verbal answer to my question. But my attacker’s intentions are more than clear when I see a flash of gray.
I don’t even know how I realize that they have a knife. Everything happens in the blink of an eye.
My fight-or-flight instinct takes over, and I know I just have seconds to break free, or these might be my final moments.
My knee goes up just as my stalker shifts their weight back and moves their arm back to bring the knife down on me.
I hit as hard as I can. I don’t even know if I get their crotch or their stomach, but my attacker’s balance is off and they fly off of me.
This is my only chance to make it out alive.
I’m on my feet, and I run faster than I’ve ever done in my life.
The urge to check behind me is strong, but I resist it. The eco lights provide just enough light to avoid major obstacles, but the rain and the lack of moonlight shroud most of my surroundings in darkness.
While fighting my attacker, I lost my phone. There is no way to call for help. I need to get to the station before my stalker catches up with me.
My lungs are burning as I run with everything I have. There’s also a painful throbbing in my lower back from when I got the wind knocked out of me and I hit the asphalt.
Tending to any scrapes and other injuries will have to wait until I’m safe and not being hunted by a psycho with a knife.
As the rain eases off, I decide to risk turning around to see if I can spot my stalker behind me. I pray to every divine entity and every lucky star that the hooded figure gave up chasing me and returned to whatever dark hell they came out of.
I see nothing behind me, but maybe I should have kept looking in front of me instead.
The impact is hard enough to make me lose my balance. If I hit a wall, I must be near the station; it’s the only building vaguely close in the opposite direction from the campgrounds.
But walls don’t have arms, and whatever I just ran into grabs me, keeping me from crashing to the ground.
A flash of light helps me establish that I didn’t run into a wall. Strong hands are holding me upright by my biceps.
A tall figure in dark clothes and a black hoodie is what stopped my escape. My attacker must have run faster than me and turned around, waiting until I ran into them.
“No!” I scream. “Please don’t kill me. Please let me go!” I struggle against the viselike grip that is keeping me nailed to my stalker.
They don’t let me go, and I realize that they aren’t alone. There’s another light and the heat radiating from another body behind me.
If there are two stalkers, this is it. There’s no way I can overpower two armed assailants.
“Taryn?” the attacker holding me still asks. “What are you doing out here by yourself in the rain?”
I’m so terrified that the concern in their tone doesn’t register. “Please don’t kill me.” I beg again, too exhausted to keep fighting against their hold.
“Trouble, it’s me.” He says.
“Pretty girl, it’s us.” The person behind me says, stepping around me to shine the light he’s holding onto Nash.
My heart is still beating at breakneck speed, adrenaline pumping in my body. “Colsen?” I cry, wondering if it’s really them or if I’m hallucinating.
“Yes, it’s us. Taryn, what are you doing alone in the middle of the road? And why were you begging us not to kill you?”
If this is a hallucination, it’s a really realistic one.
Nash pulls me against his strong chest, and I let him. His clean scent, mixed with a hint of sweat and rain, invades my senses, and I melt in his arms.
My head tells me that it’s impossible that Nash was the person who attacked me and, for once, my heart agrees.
“My stalker was chasing me. They have a knife.” I sob. “I ran and they were there, and they tried to kill me.”