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“Oh, shit,” I whisper. Trapped, not sure what to do, I know I need to go up. Heading down is a death sentence. Maybe if I can make it back onto the twenty-fifth floor, I can somehow avoid Caleb and hide. Unless that door is locked, too, like he said.
With no other option but up, I run fast, my legs burning and lungs heaving. Just like he warned, the door to the twenty-fifth floor is also locked. What the hell? Cursing, I force my feet to continue up and come face to face with the door to the roof. My hand shakes hard as I reach out, warily push the bar, and it swings open. Even though I know this is a bad idea, what else can I do? With zero options, I step outside and the wind hits me hard causing my hair to whip wildly around my face.
My awareness is at an all-time high as I take a few, tentative steps out onto the rooftop. Other than the helicopter landing pad, there’s a lot going on…places where Caleb can be hiding just out of sight. My gaze scans quickly over all the loud mechanical and electrical systems, including the stuff for heating, ventilation and air conditioning units. I didn’t get a good look earlier, but I take a moment to study things more closely now as I search for an escape. Or, a hiding spot. Along with the sounds of traffic coming from below, it’s super noisy so I don’t hear Caleb move up behind me until my peripheral vision catches sight of him.
Before he can grab me, I bolt forward, weaving between equipment, doing my best to elude him. But, realistically, how much longer can this cat and mouse game go on? There are only so many places to hide up here and once again panic rears its ugly head.
If he catches you, you’re going to die, I tell myself. It’s as simple and horrifying as that. Now move your ass because no one is coming to your rescue this time.
My inner cheerleader can be quite blunt, but also extremely motivating. Running around the HVAC system, I duck down by some kind of vent and wait. I think my heart dropped out of my ass while running away from Caleb. Fear can do that to a girl.
“Oh, Hannah…Come out, come out wherever you are,” Caleb calls in a sing-song voice.
Biting my lip, I stay frozen in place, but also ready to bolt.
“You can run, but you can’t hide,” he continues taunting me.
Tears threaten, but I hold them back, forcing myself to be ready for anything. I can’t let this asshole win. I refuse. There has to be something I can do. Some way to get the upper hand. Glancing around, I search for some sort of weapon. My desperate gaze falls on a toolbox, barely visible, and sticking out from around the corner. Hope springs up inside of me. If I can get my hands on a hammer or something then maybe I can hit him on the head and knock him out.
Dropping down low, I crawl forward on my hands and knees, getting closer and closer to the partially-concealed toolbox. I reach it without incident and quickly scan the contents inside. There’s my hammer. Grabbing the hammer in one hand and arming myself with a screwdriver in the other, I stand up and peer around the corner.
Where is he?
In answer, Caleb steps out from behind a ventilation system and my hopes crash and burn. He’s holding a gun and it’s pointed directly at me. A smile curves his mouth.
“Nice try,” he says, motioning to my measly excuse for weapons. “But, Hannah, my dear, you just brought a knife to a gunfight. Or, should I say a hammer?” He laughs at his own stupid joke and I realize how incredibly screwed I am.
One-hundred percent fucked. Right up the ass.
Keeping as much distance between us as possible, I start slowly sidestepping, and we begin circling each other. It really is turning out to be some kind of gruesome showdown and I wave my weapons out in front of me.
“Stay away from me,” I hiss, doing my best to appear threatening.
“You can’t win, Hannah, so stop playing games.”
“You think I’m going to just give up without a fight? No way.”
“You’re just going to make this harder on yourself,” he tells me, moving closer. “Maybe you haven’t noticed, but there’s only one way off this rooftop. And that’s down.”
My nostrils flare and the wind seems to be blowing harder than ever. Swiping my hair back and out of my eyes, I wish I had taken the time to pull it back. Oh, well. Too late now. Focus, Hannah. Take this jerk down.
Instead of answering, I put on my toughest face and swing the hammer when he moves closer. Clearly, it doesn’t have the desired effect I’d like because he chuckles.
“Did you ever see that movie? The Shining? Remember when he’s stalking up the steps after his wife, getting closer and closer, and she’s swinging that hammer at him? Threatening her husband? Trying to hurt the man who loves her?”
“You don’t love me!” I shout above the racket of machinery. “All you want to do is hurt Vin and I won’t let that happen!” Cranking my arm back, I throw the screwdriver as hard as I can, watching it cartwheel through the air, and praying that it stabs him in the chest. Instead, he easily sidesteps it and my heart sinks.
No, no, no.
“You’re really making me angry, Hannah,” he snarls, spittle flying out of his mouth. “This could’ve been so much easier. So simple. But, no! You have to be a bitch about everything, don’t you? A first-class cunt who I’m going to take great pleasure in ending.”
“Leave me alone!” I cry then spin around and run. He shoots the gun and a bullet hits the HVAC system and I yelp in surprise. Luckily, his aim isn’t great and I keep moving, not daring to stop and look over my shoulder. A few more POP, POP, POPs fill the air, but he keeps missing, thank God, and then he lets out a howl of rage that curdles the blood in my veins.
I stumble out from behind some equipment and, suddenly, there’s nowhere else to hide. Finding myself in dangerously open territory, facing the helipad, I run forward, zigzagging to avoid any more shots, and find myself far too close to the edge of the building for comfort.
Now what? I wonder desperately. I don’t have the luxury of time to stand around and make a logical decision, so I just run and pray. The truth is I am trapped up here and, sooner or later, he’s going to catch me.
Unfortunately, it’s sooner than I’d like.
