Nowhere to Run ~ Chapter 1

NOWHERE TO RUN

CHAPTER ONE

    

It was early, not yet seven a.m. and Evie was ready to head to work when something slammed into her bedroom door.

BAM! What the heck?

Maybe someone fell? Evie thought of the land lady of the boarding house, Mrs. Rodriguez. She was an older woman who sometimes had trouble on the stairs and this was the third floor. Even though Evie told her she’d be happy to help with anything needed, Mrs. Rodriguez always insisted on making the climb to check things out.

“Mrs. Rodriguez?” Evie called as she hurried to the door. “Are you alright?”  

Another crash stopped her. It was followed by the sounds of grunting and smacking flesh.

Fighting?

Another grunt and something slammed into her bedroom door again making Evie jump back. Not Mrs. Rodriguez. It couldn’t be. She wanted to call out again, but something stopped her.

“Probably that guy from across the hall.” Evie murmured. “I always knew he was trouble.”

BANG!

The door frame splintered and Evie ducked, covering her head.

BANG!

Oh God, gunshots, she thought and then in a panic; Where’s my cell phone?

Scanning the room, Evie spied her purse on the bed.  She hesitated. It was quiet now. She stayed low and risked pressing an ear to the door.

Silence. The sounds of fighting had stopped. Evie crawled across the room. Rounding the foot of the bed, she ducked down on the other side and snagged her purse. Dragging it to the floor with her she frantically searched for her phone.

“Where the heck is it?” Giving up on finding it the easy way, she dumped her purse out on the rug.

No cell phone. Looking up she saw it across the room, on top of the dresser. Right where she put it when she was thinking about charging it last night.

“Damn.” Evie looked at the door. There was a ragged hole about three inches down from the top. Another in the ceiling above it. “Oh God,” she whispered, “that’s a bullet hole.”

Taking a deep breath, Evie scrambled for her cell phone. Making it across the room in three strides she snatched it up and crouched beside her dresser. She flipped it open and stared into the darkened screen.

“Damn.” She never got around to charging it last night because, as usual, she couldn’t find the plug for it.

“Please, you have to work.” She slapped the phone several times, pressing buttons. “Please work.”   

Evie cast another fearful glance at the door. It was still quiet. No more fight noises, no more gunshots. Should she open it? Maybe they just went away. If it was a robbery and they got what they came for, maybe they left already. That was possible, right? Besides through that door and down the stairs was the only way out.  

A chilling thought slipped down her spine. Could Scott have found her? And if he did, would he bring a gun?

No, impossible. She had been so careful, overly careful, in covering her tracks. She walked as much as possible, used only cash and never contacted anyone from her last life. Her own little Witness Protection Program rules. Only it was more like a victim protection program, compliments of her beast of an ex-boyfriend.

No, Scott couldn’t find her. Whoever was out in that hall, it couldn’t be Scott. Evie willed herself to relax and think. Fight off that cold coil of fear and figure this out.

The only other people on this floor of the boarding house were Michael Connors, who never seemed to work, and Lana Ross, a nurse over at the clinic, who worked nights. Evie glanced at the clock. Lana was probably still at work and that left Connors. She really never liked that guy. The man was always around. Why didn’t he have some place to go? Didn’t the man have a job? No, there was something about that man that made her uncomfortable. If she had to bet, she’d say whatever the trouble was out in the hall probably came from him.

Evie listened. Still quiet.

Well, I can’t sit here all day. She reasoned, and it’s quiet now.

Curiosity got the best of her and she crawled around the dresser to the door. Straining her ears to pick up anything that would give her a clue. Hesitantly, she pressed her ear to the door.

Nothing, not a sound. A quick peek, she thought. Just to make sure no one was hurt. That was the right thing to do, wasn’t it? Besides, she had to leave for work soon so she would have to open the door anyway.

Not gunshots, she thought. Maybe someone dropped something. Or fell? Car backfired?

Then she looked at the hole in the door.

Don’t kid yourself, honey. It had to be a gunshot.  

Easing opened the door just a crack, Evie saw Michael Connors was leaning against the opposite wall.

I knew it.

He was breathing hard, dressed only in half-zipped, faded blue jeans. One broad, well-muscled shoulder trickled a thin line of blood. At his feet lay a man in a suit, face down. She could see blood oozing out from somewhere underneath the man’s chest. A lot of blood.

And Connors was holding a gun.

     It took her three seconds to take it all in. When she looked up her eyes locked with the desperate stare of Michael Connors. His dark, shaggy hair in wild disarray, chest heaving. He looked just like someone who just killed a man.  

Evie slammed the door.  Her trembling fingers raced to twist the locks, but the crazy man in the hallway was quicker. He flew over the man on the floor and slammed into her door. The door flew inward, knocking Evie off her feet. She landed with a hard thump on her derriere.  In one smooth move, Michael used his bare foot to push Evie’s legs out of the way and closed the door.  Then he quickly engaged the lock and turned to face her, gun still in hand.

Evie backpedaled across the floor as fear closed her throat. She watched the man’s dark eyes dart around the room. Then he let out a ragged breath and sagged against the door. Closing his eyes, he wiped the sweat from his brow. The gun now hung limply in his hand, he had a savage, desperate appearance.

“Get out.” Her voice was barely a whisper at first. Then stronger, “Get out of my room.”

Michael looked down at her. “Damn.” he said pushing himself off the door and reached out a hand to help her up. “I’m sorry. I won’t hurt you.”

     Evie recoiled, her eyes still locked on the gun. “Noooo.”

     “No, I wouldn’t. Not you. See?” Michael Connors tossed the gun onto the bed and reached for her.

     Without thinking, Evie dove for the gun. She was up and scrambling across the bed as she grabbed for it. Michael landed hard on top of her. The impact knocking the air from her lungs and pushing the gun off the other side. She kicked at him. Clawing her way across the bed, determine to catch the gun. As they wrestled, she caught her breath and began to scream.

“Don’t!” Michael flipped her onto her back and clamped a hand over her mouth.  He used the other hand to trap both her arms above her head. His one hand easily encompassing both her slim wrists. But Evie fought him like a wildcat. Writhing and twisting in an attempt to buck him off. But the man was immovable. A lead weight pinning her to the bed. When Evie tasted the salty sweat from his hand she bit into the meaty part of his thumb as hard as she could.

     “Jesus Christ!” Michael swore, giving her head a little shake, but keeping his hand locked over her mouth. “There may be others in the building. Damn it, don’t scream.”

     Evie froze beneath him, easing off on her bite just a bit.

     “You scream, they will kill us both. You got that?”

     Evie gave a little shake of her head. A strangled cry squeaked from her throat.

     “You're not going to scream?” He asked. “Be quiet and I’ll let you up.”

     Evie nodded, she'd agree to anything to get him off of her. 

Slowly, he released the pressure on her mouth. Easing his hand back bit by bit. “Don’t make a sound. You understand? Not one peep.”

     “Get off me.” She was too aware of his naked chest pressed intimately against her. The blood from the wound in his shoulder smudging the front of her pink waitress uniform. A little braver, “Get off.”

     He was looking at his hand now and Evie could see two neat little rows of teeth marks.  The blood was beginning to pool by the sides where she had broken the skin. Cold fear coiling in her belly and she readied herself for the blow she knew was coming.

     But the man just frowned. “Damn, you have sharp teeth.”

     “Don’t.” Her voice broke. “Please, don’t.”

     “I’m going to let you up.”

She watched as he wiped the palm of his hand on her flowered bed spread then placed a gentle finger on her trembling lips.

“You have to be quiet. You can’t leave and no screaming. Understand?”

     “Yes.”

     He released her hands, slowly shifting his weight and rolling to the side.  They both sat up on the edge of the bed. Evie pulled down her skirt and inched away from him. She didn’t know if she should stand or not. Would he grab her again?

     “That man tried to kill me.” Michael explained. His fingers tentatively checking the wound on his shoulder. “I was only defending myself.”

     “W-why?” Evie dared to ease herself off the bed and backed away from him. She moved slowly, letting her eyes wander the floor looking for the gun. Where did it go?  

     “That’s a long story.  You don’t need to know. I just need to get out of here." She watched as he glanced round the room. "Do you have a car?”

“A car?”

“You have one?”

     “I---” she began, only to be cut short by a muffled crash, followed by a sharp gunshot. It sounded like it came from the second floor, just below them.

     Michael vaulted for the gun. Rolling over the bed and coming up on the other side, gun drawn, aimed at the door. Standing, he edged over toward Evie. He stepped in front of her, gun aimed at the door.

From downstairs, Evie heard a scream. 

“Mrs. Rodriguez!”

“Shhhh…”

The scream came again and this time Evie was sure it was her.  Another loud report of a gun reverberated through the house.

     Without thinking Evie pushed past Michael and ran for the door, “Mrs. Rodr---”

     “No.”  Michael grabbed her arm to hold her back. “Stay.”

     “But that was—“

     “Shut up and stay here.”

     The house was three stories, an old Victorian with thin walls and squeaky floors.  On the second floor there were four bedrooms. One was empty and since it was Sunday, the other three occupants were probably still sleeping. Or at least they were...

     Michael edged his way to the door and cracked it open.  From somewhere they could hear pounding, the cracking sound of a door being kicked in, a muffled cry and two more shots.

     Evie gave a little shriek. Michael turned, urgently motioning her to be quiet.  He eased the door shut, re-engaged the lock and moved to the window. She watched as he threw up the screen and leaned out.

     “We have to get out of here.”

     “Good. Leave.”

Heavy footsteps came closer now. Sounding as if they reached the top of the stairs. Down the hall the floor creaked ominously.

     “Let’s go.” Michael said. He still had the gun pointed at the door as he held the screen up for her. “Out.”

     “What?”

     “Now.”

     “No, I’m staying. I didn’t do anything wrong!” 

He gestured with the gun. “Now.

“The roof? We’re three stories up!

     He came over to where she was standing, placed one firm hand on her arm and propelled her toward the window.

     “They are killing everyone in the house.” His hot breath hissed in her ear, “Do you really want to stay?”

     “But I didn’t do anything.” Evie felt the air leave her lungs. His grip on her arm was like iron. She braced stiff armed against the window frame. “No.”

     Michael pulled her back against him. He held her tightly against his body. “Shut up and move or die.”

Evie couldn’t think, his words echoed ominously in her head. Killing everyone? Die? She glanced back at the door. Was there a choice? If she stayed—

Another sharp retort of a gun came from somewhere in the house. Evie jumped.

“Go.” He hissed.

It was all she needed. Holding onto his hand she sat on the sill and cautiously swung her legs out the window. The sloped asphalt shingles that made up the roof were angled down, making it hard to stand. Once out, Evie stepped to the side, plastering herself up against the pink shingles. Just looking down made her dizzy. She shut her eyes and gripped the window frame. Michael followed her with smooth cat-like grace.

“This way, let’s go.”

“No, I can’t do this.”

“Damn it, I said move.”

“I’ll wait here for the police.”

“You wait here and you’re dead.”

He pried her hand off the window and pulled her along the roof. Guiding her over to a drainpipe, he pointed down.

     “Nooo,” her voice shook with fright. Her terror was so great every bone in her body was vibrating.

     Another shot rang out. Evie jumped, her feet slipping so badly on the old roof, she would have fallen if not for Michael. His strong arm shot out and circled her waist, pulling her back tight against his chest.

Sirens went off in the distance. The blessed wail meant police. Thank God. They would save her. Take away this crazy man with whoever was doing all that shooting and lock them up.

Michael’s arm tightened. His lips so close to her ear she could feel his warm breath. “Shhhhh, just sit, and go down, slow and easy. I’ll hold you.”

“You’re insane.”

“That may be, but you’re going to sit or I’ll toss you off this roof.”

“No,” her hands tightened on his arm. “Please.”

“Sit.” His hand on her shoulder pressed down. “Now.”

Evie sat down and slid to the edge of the roof, scraping her hands on the rough shingles.  She felt her stockings catch on the sandpaper like surface and imagined them shredding down the backs of her thighs.  At the edge of the roof, she snapped her eyes shut as she caught a glimpse of the long drop to the ground. A whimper escaped her lips.  

“I can’t...I-I-I’m going to fall.”

     Michael knelt down beside her and squeezed her shoulder. “You can do this. I’ll hold you.”

     “No, no, no, you’re crazy. I’ll fall.”

     “Hey, look at me.” his voice softer. “Don't look down.”

     Evie looked up into his eyes, wanting him to rescue her from the edge, but knowing he wouldn’t. This maniac wanted her to go down.

“You brought me out here to die.” Evie whispered.

“Just go down.”

“Don’t do this. You go. Leave me here.”

“This is a no-choice situation.”

Evie’s voice broke, “Please.”

The man stared down at her, his hard scowl eased a bit, “You can do this, babe. Give me your hand and I’ll hold you.”

With that he held out his hand and when she looked into his eyes something there that gave her strength. He nodded once and Evie unlocked her fingers from the edge of the roof and put her hand in his.

“It will be okay.” He said and she tried to believe him. Wanting so badly to believe he wouldn’t drop her or make good on his promise to throw her off the roof.

Evie nodded. Turning onto her side she started to slide over the edge. Watching the muscles in Michael’s arm and shoulder flexed as he lowered her down. Praying he had the strength to hold her.

Slowly at first, with the steel strength of his grip locked on her wrist, Evie dangled her legs over the edge. He moved her down until the drainpipe was within easy reach. It was rusty and old and Evie wasn’t sure it was going to hold her weight, but she grabbed on tightly, reluctantly releasing Michael’s hand.

“Go ahead.” He said. “You can do this.”

“No.” Evie hugged the drainpipe, not moving. “I can’t.”

“I don’t know how long that old pipe will hold your weight.”

Evie moved. Inching her way down the ancient pipe, with rough metal scraping her thighs, she made her way to the next level. A warm rush of relief washed over her as her feet met the second story roof. She looked up, seeing this maniac follow with surprising agility and grace.  He moved over the roof like this was child’s play.

     Michael led the way around to a place where the dormer for the next floor was reachable and lowered Evie down again.  This time it was easier. She put her hand in his and before she knew it, her feet were touching the next level.  Once on the lower roof, they jumped down onto a nearby garden shed. Michael jumped to the ground first and reached up to help Evie.  She tucked her skirt around her legs as best she could and then slowly hung her legs over the edge, preparing to jump.

Then she gasped as Michael's arms clamped around her legs. A gentle tug and he had her. Holding her close and sliding her down the length of his body. Evie tried not to notice how his bare chest rasped against her from thighs to breasts or how her skirt slid up to an indecent level. When her feet touched the ground she stood there, dazed, looking up at him.  

Abruptly, he pushed her away. “Let’s not get crazy.” he said.  

There wasn't time to think about his actions, for just as Evie began to catch her breath two shots tore up the ground next to her.  Looking up to her bedroom window, she saw a husky, balding man leaning out.  He aimed his gun in their direction.

     “RUN!”

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