[12] Eight

Eight

DATE

FEBRUARY 5, 2039

TIME

PM 09:28:56

Haley sang to herself as she finished her last tasks before locking up the café. She moved back and forth behind the counter, sweeping up the beans and grounds and other small pieces of trash.

Her voice faded into a soft hum as she paused and stared at the broom handle, remembering when her fingers had touched Connor’s. The way he looked at her. The electricity that went through her. The way he didn’t move.

The sound of plates shifting from behind made her jump.

“Jake?” Didn’t he already leave?

She leaned sideways into the dish pit and looked around, but didn’t see anything. She stepped back out and glanced at the clock on the wall above the brew station. She ignored her unease, knowing Connor would be arriving soon.

She grabbed the dust pan, swept up her pile, and dumped it in the near-full trash. She snapped the dust pan on the broom handle and leaned it to the side. She then pulled the trash bag out of the can by the drawstrings and tied it tight.

Before she could fully stand up straight, something closed around her throat from behind. She reached up to fight off her aggressor, but the pressure on both sides of her neck caused her head to spin. The lights blurred before fading to black.

~

The heavy, damp air smelled of rust, mold, and rot. Haley blinked a couple times, the light blurring in her vision. Her head throbbed, and her arm felt sore in a particular area.

She pushed herself up off the unfinished wood floor to a sitting position. She strained to focus on the sore spot. She wasn’t sure if it was the spots in her vision or if there really was a mark resembling a needle prick on her skin. Haley blinked again, trying to bring the world into focus. She leaned against the wall behind her, nudging the corner of a long mirror that was leaning there as well. She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on taking a deep breath.

Her shoulder and neck ached. How long had she been lying on the hard floor? Her whole body felt stiff and heavy. She took another deep breath and coughed out a lungful of dust.

“Ah, you’re awake. Good, good. It’s no fun if you’re not awake.”

Haley’s eyes shot open, and her heart jumped. That voice. Her stomach twisted and the groggy fog suddenly cleared at once. She laid her eyes on the crazy haired man across the room and recognized a long rough scar along his jaw. A chill racked her body. Steven Ricks.

The corners of his mouth pulled back into a haunting smile. He turned a rusty blade over in his hands.

Haley watched him carefully, but he made no move to get up yet. Her palms began to sweat.

“You are very beautiful. The beautiful ones are the best.”

Haley’s heart accelerated, pounding against her chest.

“Their faces are beautiful. Their screams are beautiful.”

Her breathing quickened.

“And their blood. Their blood is especially beautiful.”

Haley trembled.

“I am very excited you’re here. Oh yes. So excited. I must prepare myself.” The killer gazed down at the knife in his hand and flipped it around.

While he was not looking directly at her, Haley took a quick scan around the room. The walls in front and behind her had windows, all of them were boarded. The cracks were too small to fit through, only big enough to let in the moonlight. A third wall had a fireplace, and a few tattered paintings. In the corner was a three-legged chair. She tried to not to think about the dark smeared stains all over the splintered floor.

Finally, she glanced at the door with a flip latch locked tight.

Haley swore to herself. Then a thought entered her head. She felt around her pants pockets until she found her car remote. She found the distress button and pushed on it several times.

The sound of Steven taking a loud deep breath brought her attention back to him.

He opened his eyes and leered over at her with a grotesque, animal hunger.

Escape didn’t look promising. But if she could buy some time…

Steven stood and walked over to her.

Haley quickly glanced at the chair in the corner, avoiding breaking eye contact for too long. She knew he could intercept her path to it. Her heart rate increased. She pressed her back against the wall as the wild-eyed man closed the gap.

He stopped just in front of her and came down into a crouch. He grabbed a piece of her hair and rubbed it between his fingers. “I like red.” He pressed it to his face and inhaled. “Mmm. Especially this. I can’t wait to see how it compares to your blood.”

Haley’s stomach roiled with nausea when he gave her a wide, toothy grin.

The criminal slowly lifted his blade until the tip just barely met the end of Haley’s chin.

Haley stared, petrified.

“Run.” His voice hissed out above a whisper.

When Haley didn’t move, he suddenly stabbed the knife into the floorboard by her leg, the blade close enough to graze her skin.

Haley jumped to her feet in a matter of seconds and darted to the wall by the fireplace. A trickle of blood ran down her leg and a bead of sweat on the side of her face matched its pace.

As he yanked the knife from the floor, she grabbed a fistful of ash.

“Yes, yes. Good. It’s no fun if you go easily.” His voice grated her like a nail on a chalkboard.

Haley shifted her weight from foot to foot, her mind racing. Come on, Connor.

Steven took two slow deliberate steps in her direction. Then he lunged toward her with alarming speed. He closed the distance faster than she could have imagined.

Her muscles reacted before her brain, and she tossed the ash right at the killer’s face and dodged to the side. She scurried over to the corner and grabbed the three-legged chair. She quickly brought it up to hit the man, but the ash hadn’t blinded him long enough and he ducked down to his right.

The chair legs hit the floor hard and the back broke off from the seat. Two chair legs snapped off and one slid across the floor. The other flew, hitting the mirror. The glass splintered just before it tipped and fell forward, scattering the floor with broken glass.

Haley tightened her grip on the chair back and moved to try and hit the killer again.

But he was too quick. He came up from his crouch and gripped the middle of the chair back with his left hand.

Now Haley realized her vulnerability with her hands raised above her head, holding the chair piece.

The killer stabbed with the blade, but Haley moved her body to the side. The knife sliced at her waist, but it didn’t feel deep.

Haley cried out, but resisted the urge to bend in pain. Instead, she brought up her foot and kicked him in the stomach as hard as she could.

As he bent in half from the hit, his grip released on her weapon.

She swung hard and hit him with the chair piece on the back of his head. He fell face down on the floor, and the furniture piece shattered in her hands.

Haley staggered backwards, breathing heavily.

A hot, callused hand grip her ankle.

Her stomach lurched.

The killer yanked on her leg.

She fell onto her back with a thud.

There was a bright flash in her vision when she hit the floor and a loud ringing in her ears. Haley coughed, trying to regain her breath.

The wild man stood and moved over her, pointing the blade at her.

Her vision slowly returned to normal. With her free leg, she kicked the knife from his hand. It clanked to the floor and slid across the wood.

“You little bitch.” He knelt down and crushed himself on top of her. “Enough play.” He grabbed her throat with both hands.

Haley struggled against his weight and fought to pry his fingers off.

Her chest tightened.

Her vision blurred.

Tears streamed from her eyes.

She kicked wildly.

“Shh. Shh. It’ll all be over soon, then I can cut you up real nice.”

Haley wanted to scream. Her fear weighed heavier than the killer on top of her. She gave up trying to peel his grimy hands away and reached out to the side for something to use as a weapon. Her fingertips touched something and she reached harder.

Steven lifted her by the neck a bit, then thrust her head back to the ground, stunning her. He squeezed harder.

Haley gasped.

The room spun.

Blackness edged into her vision.

She reached out again, feeling around by her side. She managed to get a grip on something by her leg. It stung as it cut into her palm.

Without hesitating, she brought up her weapon and jammed it into the side of the killer’s throat.

His grip immediately loosened.

Haley coughed, gasping for air.

Little by little her vision cleared.

A broken piece of mirror glass protruded from his neck. His eyes were wide with shock and blood gushed from the wound.

Haley wanted to scream, but no sound came out.

The man reached up with one hand, but only barely touched the glass edge before he slumped down on top of her, lifeless.

Haley got her hands between herself and the dead killer and pushed him, but her arms were too weak to get him off.

She whimpered, still out of breath.

Her heart rate increased as she felt the warm wetness of his blood soaking her. Again she desperately attempted to push him off.

Haley then heard three loud knocks at the door.

“Detroit Police! Open the door!” Hank’s sweet, gruff voice came from the other side.

“I’m in here!” Haley tried to yell, but her voice came out as little more than a rasp. She thrashed, trying to push the dead man and wiggle out.

Suddenly, a loud thump, and another followed by a loud crash.

“Haley? Haley!” Connor’s voice this time. Eager footsteps approached.

She allowed tears of relief to come.

“Holy shit.” She heard the lieutenant. A few more sets of footsteps followed into the room.

Finally, the crushing weight of the dead killer lifted off her, and she looked into the comfort of a pair of coffee-colored eyes.

“Connor…” She gasped, trying to push herself off the floor.

Connor scooped her up and into his arms. “I thought we might have been too late…” The android held her close to his chest, burying his face in her hair.

Haley wrapped her arms around him and cried into his shirt.