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"I’m down here! The prisoners are here!" May screamed again.
"We’re here! Help us!" she heard around her. The women were flinging themselves against the doors. Suddenly, the underground corridor was filled with a maelstrom of noise, and it seemed that after the initial shock of the sound, it was driving him to new fury.
He surged toward her again, and May leaped back, gasping as the knife ripped right through her jacket sleeve. As she raised the hammer again, he knocked it out of her hand.
May did the only thing left to her. She turned and ran, pounding down the corridor, fleeing into the darkened depths of this prison.
But his footsteps were behind, fast and heavy. She heard his breath, and dodged to the side, avoiding a knife slash that she saw only as a glint out of the corner of her eye.
And then, with his other hand, he grabbed the back of her jacket, and she stumbled, thrown off her stride, trying to twist away.
He clutched at her, pulled her back to him. She writhed away to avoid another attack from the blade, and he threw her down hard, uttering a cry of rage.
The ground hit her, a painful thud, and May rolled away, desperately jerking out of reach of the knife and then kicking out hard at him, getting his ankle, but it did no more than push him off balance. Now, it was almost dark, the flashlight was dimming, the screaming surrounded them, and in this nightmarish scenario, May knew that there was nothing more she could do.
He raised the knife, looming over her as she flailed to get up. And she realized it was too late now.
He was going to bring that knife down again, and when he did, it would stab right into her.
May raised her arms, fighting until the last moment, ready to defend herself as best she could, ready to twist away, to try and grab his hand or knock the knife aside with her elbows. Even though it felt futile and hopeless, she was not going to give up.
But she saw his triumphant smile, a death's head grin in the gloom as the blade came slashing down, and she knew that this was the end.
CHAPTER THIRTY ONE
“Don’t you dare! Don’t do it!” May yelled at him, using her voice as a weapon of last resort, the only possible distraction that could push him off course.
And, to her astonishment, as the blade slashed down toward her, there was a dull, thudding noise, and her attacker staggered forward, jerking to the right. The blade went wide and clattered off the concrete wall, carving out a shower of dust.
And then, something else clanged down behind him.
It was the hammer.
In an instant, May realized what had happened. Owen was here. Help had arrived, and not a moment too soon. Her deputy had picked up the first available weapon, as he'd rushed to save her, and had flung it at her attacker.
It had derailed the deadly assault just in time.
"I’m here! Come fight me!" Owen yelled from behind him, and with a curse, the knifeman swung around.
That was all May needed. Nobody turned their back on her in a fight. Nobody. In his fury and distraction, he’d made a mistake, and she was going to make sure it cost him.
She leaped up and grabbed hold of his knife arm from behind, twisting and tugging at the wrist with all her strength. He cursed, lashing back at her with a kick that connected with her ankle and nearly knocked her off her feet, but she hung on grimly, knowing the knife was the biggest threat, his killing weapon, and if she could disable it, then together, she and Owen could disable him.
Owen leaped forward, kicking out at his knees. He got in a good shot, a hard, accurate blow, and with a yell, the knifeman staggered down, sprawling onto his side. Finally, with a twistthat seemed to take every ounce of strength she had, May wrestled the knife from him.
He wasn't done yet. He was cursing, struggling, punching, and kicking. May wrenched his arm back. Owen grabbed his other arm. The flashlight beam was weakening more, she realized with a clench of her stomach. The light had gotten even dimmer. She could barely see what she was doing, and avoiding his kicks in this near-darkness was more luck than skill.
But Owen had the cuffs over one of his wrists, and grabbing on as tight as she could, May held the man’s arm back while he clipped the other closed.
"Got him," he said triumphantly.
Reaching down, May did her best with the attacker’s kicking feet. She couldn't cuff them, but she had a cable tie. Grabbing onto his ankles, she managed to loop it around, and pull it tight enough that his legs were firmly restrained.
Now, the tables were turned.
Now, he was the one who was imprisoned in his own underground bunker. And then, at that moment, the flashlight battery finally died, and the world went dark.
Anxious cries erupted from behind the doors. The women were clearly worried that she’d lost the fight.
