Authors: Brandy Isaacs
Jamie took a step back and Harley followed suit. When the man on the porch realized that Jamie was fumbling for her phone in her purse he began to descend the steps. With unspoken agreement, both girls dropped their bags and turned to run. Harley’s heart hammered in her chest. Jamie had managed to get her phone from her purse but it didn’t do much good. When they turned, they found that the man from the trees had made left his position to block them from behind. Harley stopped short and Jamie, unable to stop in time, bumped her from behind. They were trapped between the two men.
Harley tried to remain calm, “OK, OK. You want money, right?” Her heart thudded painfully and her mouth was dry. She gestured to the bags on the ground, “Take it all. Whatever you want, you can have it.” Jamie’s grip on her arm was turning painful.
“Oh, we’ll take whatever we want alright. But first we have a job to do,” the man in front of them leered. The man behind them sniggered almost comically. It was then that she noticed the knife in the guy’s hand. The moonlight glinted off it of it like a warning light. Harley felt her blood turn cold and held her hands up in surrender. This wasn’t a simple robbery. Her heart was pounding so hard in her ears she was afraid she would pass out. She fought to form a clear thought. She had to do something; she couldn’t just stand there and let them both die. Jamie gripped her arm even harder. The adrenaline that pumped through her body clouded her thoughts. The flight reflex was strong, but she knew if they ran the men would be on them in an instant.
Think, think, think…
she couldn’t help but wonder what “job” he could possibly be referring to. She didn’t even know them, and was pretty sure Jamie didn’t either. Unless they were someone that Jamie worked with in the outreach center
The man in front of Harley motioned towards their fallen bags with the knife, “Pick up your stuff and get into the apartment. Be quiet about it. And do it slowly.”
She turned her back to the man with the knife, pulling her arm out of Jamie’s vise-like grip. She could tell by the way Jamie was acting that she didn’t know the men either. Harley kept glancing at the man that seemed to be in charge out of the corner of her eye as she went. She hoped that by complying with what he said that it would keep him from doing anything too rash. She closed the distance and bent over the bags. Man number two moved closer to Jamie, but he didn’t seem to have a weapon. She couldn’t believe this was actually happening to her. Stuff like this only happened in books and movies. Not real life.
Thinking quickly, Harley knew that if there was going to be a shot to save her and Jamie, this was it. She had read enough true crime to know if these men got them into the house, there wouldn’t be much hope. Neither man covered his face, or wore gloves. Both men were dressed in dirty clothes and smelled badly—like something nasty that had been burnt. The man with the knife had dirty blonde hair and was the taller of the two. The shorter man had darker hair and a more angular face. Both man’s eyes were glassy and had an almost animal sheen to them. They were easily identifiable and Harley knew what that if the men didn’t care that their victims could identify them it didn’t bode well for either woman. The likelihood that she and Jamie would walk away from this at all was slim. She also was not going to count on someone coming along to call the police. Sadly, most people wouldn’t even if they happened to see something. Jamie seemed too frightened to move, so she knew she had to do something herself.
Bending over the bags she looked up at Jamie, and tried hard to send her a message that she was going to do something. Jamie seemed to get the message because her eyes widened in alarm for a fraction of a second. Harley bent over the bags and gathered as many as she could in two hands. She took a deep breath—her senses were on such high alert that she could hear the air moving in and out of her lungs and her nostrils flared as she took a breath tensing for what she planned to do. She gathered her strength and in one fluid motion she stood up and simultaneously slung the bags as hard as she could at the man with the knife behind her.
It didn’t cause too much of a distraction, but taking about eight full shopping bags to the face will cause you to pause for at least a second. In that second Harley made a dash for the fallen street sign. Harley hadn’t even known where she was going to go until she was moving, but now she darted forward fast enough to rival an Olympic sprinter. The sign lay at the corner of the driveway, on the same side of the car that they were on. If she could at least make it to the sign she might have a hope of hitting the guy with it. Maybe if she was lucky she could knock him out and run for help. Or even better maybe she could get the knife away from him. Her hope was that as she did this, Jamie might be able to wiggle away from the man without the weapon and run for help or her phone. She knew she was doing a lot of hoping, but at least she wasn’t giving up.
She had to run past the man to make it to the sign in the shortest distance and time. She considered running around the car and avoid having to pass by the man for an instant, but discarded that idea because of the extra time it would take. It seemed that luck may be on her side after all as one of the bags had impaled itself on the knife. As she ran past she saw him slinging the knife trying to dislodge it. She had maybe thirty feet to cross to reach the sign and she made it in about three strides it seemed. She made a desperate dive towards the sign at the same time as she saw the man free the knife and lunge after her. She landed roughly on her knees and she could feel the pavement tear at her jeans and her skin. Harley grabbed the sign post with both hands and lifted. It was heavier than she expected and she didn’t get it off the ground in time. She felt and saw the shadow of the man loom over her as she still struggled to lift the metal sign. It was only half way off the ground when the man crashed on top of her.
The man’s weight slammed down onto Harley, she heard scraping as the sign grated against the pavement of the driveway. Harley was surprised that she didn’t feel any pain. Not the weight of the man, or the metal biting into her hands, or her raw knees. Her mind was too shocked to process what had happened for several seconds. With a high-pitched shrieking sound inside her head, awareness came rushing back. The man was partially slumped over her, held up by the sign post that was lodged in his chest. A warm sensation on her arm drew her attention. Blood. The man’s blood ran down her arm. She followed the trail of blood and it seemed like it must have virtually exploded from his chest. Some part of her brain told her this had to mean that the sharp end of the sign post had been driven into his heart—killing him instantly.
The shrieking sounds continued to pierce through her head and it finally registered that it wasn’t coming from inside her head. Instead, it was coming from Jamie. Maybe ten seconds had passed since Harley threw the bags at the man, and in those ten seconds Jamie continued to struggle with the other man. It was taking her body too long to regain its functions. Her brain kept telling her body to get up and help her friend, but it wasn’t responding. Harley watched the struggle in front of her as she fought her own battle. Sluggishly, she shoved the man off her shoulder and he slumped to the ground, the sign grating against the ground again and it seemed so loud that she was sure someone would hear it and be alerted to what was happening. The look frozen on the dead man’s face was one of shock, as if in the last second of his life he was aware of what was happening. She attempted to climb to her feet, but her legs moved as if they were in quicksand dragging her back down to the ground.
Harley realized she had underestimated the second man. He fought to get a solid grip on Jamie as she wiggled and kicked. She could tell the man was very strong, but Jamie was moving so much that he was having a hard time getting her under control. It didn’t take long before the man held her against him with one arm though. It’s wasn’t a hold that would have immobilized Jamie for long. But it did hold her long enough for the man to reach into his pocket. Harley tried to call out a warning to Jamie, but the sound died, strangled in her throat. This man may have been the smaller of the two, but he was still strong. He still had his grip on Jamie when he pulled the knife from his pocket and flicked it open. It was smaller than the first man’s knife. But it still gleamed wickedly sharp in the moonlight.
The man glared at Harley over Jamie’s shoulder, “It’s too bad,” he sneered. “We really wanted to play with you first.”
Harley had just made it to her feet when she saw the knife blur through the air. Jamie’s eyes widened and her back arched. Time slowed down and she could hear her heart pound inside her head and she could feel the pressure building up inside her skull. She could see the breeze lift Jamie’s hair from her shoulders and she could feel the cold air against her own face. Harley was stuck in a nightmare in which she was unable to move. The knife flashed through the air again and Jamie’s legs gave way. As she fell to the ground, Harley’s legs gave out as well and she fell with her friend. She was unable to tear her eyes away from Jamie’s eyes. Tears fell from her friend’s green eyes and rolled down her cheeks. There was a look of hopeless finality in Jamie’s eyes and it sucked all the air from Harley’s lungs.
Suddenly, a figure burst from the night behind the man as he stood there with a sickening grin on his face. Harley hadn’t really seen the figure arrive, he was just suddenly there. The newly arrived man hesitated for only a moment. Her best friend’s murderer continued to gloat, oblivious to the stranger behind him. The new arrival shifted and the moonlight illuminated part of the new guy’s face. If her body had been capable, she would have been even more shocked when she realized the figure was Levi. He was dressed all in black and a hood obscured some of his face, but she recognized him easily. His look was one of controlled fury. The dim light showed that his jaw was set and his lips were pressed together in a hard line. As he stepped closer Harley was able to see the rest of his face under the hood. There was something wrong with Levi’s eyes. They were solid black. Just as she thought she had seen before, they were solid black—no white or blue showed at all.
Levi made a quick thrusting motion that Harley had trouble following. Time had seemed to slow down as she had watched her friend die. But now it sped up again with a dizzying rebound. She realized that Levi must have stabbed the man in the back because the tip of a knife was now poking through the man’s stained shirt. Blood bubbled from his mouth and added to what was flowing out of his chest. He was dead before Levi shoved him away, ripping the blade from his back at the same time. Harley’s eyes followed the movement of the knife as Levi slung the blood off the blade; she recognized it as the one she had seen in his bag a week after having met him. It was at least a foot long and gleamed silver against the light from the stars. He sheathed it somewhere on his back and stepped around the dead man at his feet. He bent over Jamie and felt for a pulse at her neck.
Harley didn’t need to interpret his body language to know that her friend was dead. She knew when she saw the light die in Jamie’s eyes that she was gone. His shoulders slumped for just a second before he recovered. Levi stood slowly and stepped closer to where Harley still kneeled. Crouching in front of her, he finally met her eyes. His eyes were no longer black; they were the normal deep blue and looked very, very sad. The regret in his eyes conflicted with the anger than hardened the rest of his features.
“Can you stand?” he asked softly. Despite the gentleness with which he spoke, the sound jolted Harley. The words spoken to her directly were proof that she wasn’t just watching the events unfold in some kind of horror movie.
Harley struggled to speak. She knew her body had officially gone into shock. She realized that she was shivering uncontrollably and the shivers were quickly turning more and more jerky, teetering towards convulsions. But Harley wasn’t able to stop her body’s awkward movements. She felt so numb that it seemed as if she was floating outside of her skin.
Harley met Levi’s eyes and opened her mouth to speak—but again nothing came out. Levi quickly stood and pulled Harley to her feet by her shoulders. He looked at her grimly and shook her slightly.
“Harley! You have to pull it together. We have to get out of here before more come.” He shook her again, this time more roughly. With great effort, Harley nodded her understanding. She didn’t understand why more would come. Or even more of what. But she knew that he was more rational than she was right now. She knew that she wasn’t thinking clearly, so she deferred to him. He put his arm around her shoulders and led her away. He didn’t carry her weight or support her too much. Instead, he made her walk on her own and thereby forcing her to regain control of her own body. Her legs felt weak and rubbery as she staggered along. The effort that was required to put one foot in front of the other was great enough that it forced her to focus on the here and now. As they walked away the wind blew Harley’s hair into her face and with it came the burnt scent that had clung to the two attackers and she realized how heightened her senses must be to be able to smell the men from this far away.