Chapter 1

He was watching me. Or she, I wasn’t sure. I didn’t know who, but I held someone’s eyes. As I carefully maneuvered my bike around the sprawling cracks in the pavement, the faint beam of the headlight swept across the grass lining the road and, for a moment, a small glint answered from within the blades. I almost missed it. At the wrong angle, or maybe at the wrong time, it would’ve gone overlooked. It could have been lost, maybe only to reveal itself again when I got close.

With the gentle squeeze of my breaks, the wheels creaked with resisted and finally came to a halt. The frame balanced between my legs as I pointed the shaft to the spot. Most of the sun had fallen behind the trees far past the reach of the spotlight, but I could still make out something beyond the edge of the wild blades. The glimmer revealed itself under the focused beam, and then disappeared. Just above the blades, a hunched figure wavered and then settled. Something was sitting just off of the pavement.

Strange. In the years that I’ve ridden this way to work, I’ve never seen anything more than a couple deer cross the street. Not even the cars wanted the trouble with all the jagged and uneven roads. Maybe they were looking for something. Maybe they were lost, or possibly hurt. I debated whether or not to approach. Maybe they needed help. There was nothing that I was willing to give and if I spent too much time helping then I’d definitely be late to work. But I had never seen this before.

Before I realized that my curiosity had won me over, I was already inching closer, struggling to define the strange outline against the dimming backdrop. The clicks of the sprocket ticked away with the seconds as I closed in. At only a few feet away, the figure grew instantly tall as it emerged from the grass.

His eyes were barely visible under the low awning of black hood that hid most of his face. Something about them was familiar, though my mind couldn’t find the place where I had seen them before.

He meekly looked me up and down, never exactly meeting my eyes. If his shoulders weren’t slumped and his presence as weak, I might’ve been intimidated.  

“Excuse me, can you help me find yo…?” His voice was too quiet. We were only a few feet away from each other, but I could barely hear his murmured request over the humming insects that accompanied the impending dusk.

“Sorry?” I asked, unconsciously leaning my ear forward, even taking a step while trying to maintain the balance of my bike between my legs. The patchy facial hair told me that he was probably one of the idle bums in town. Though I hadn’t seen him here before, I had an idea what he wanted. Regardless if I heard whatever manufactured story he told, I decided that I would also be penniless and unable to give.

He uttered another indistinct message, though I had only seen his mouth move in silence. Everything had gone silent as my eyes were drew down to his waistband. A massive weight instantly swelled in my stomach when I finally saw the blade. Slowly and smoothly he pulled it out and flicked it’s point directly to my stomach, not breaking his stare for even a moment.

“Give me your phone. And your wallet,” his tone was suddenly flat and much clearer. “Now.”

I stood frozen in the warmth of the autumn evening. Beating waves of sweat matted the curls pressed under my helmet. Each beat in my chest came faster than the one before it and emanated out to my throat and arms. The handlebars grew sticky, slippery in my tightened grip. The blade held me still.

The few possibilities of a smooth escape vanished from my mind as I matched my body to his. He had at least six inches on me, and probably a half a body wider. Even if I had begun to have a guess of how to properly defend myself, any attempt at it would’ve been useless. The knife wasn’t even necessary, it was to simply send the message that I wasn’t getting out of the situation with both my physical and bodily contents.

“I ain’t f****n’ playin’ around,” his voice boomed. A surge of electricity burned through my calves that pushed my numbing feet to the ground. My nerves were fired chaotically, I could feel each one of them.

He confirmed the threat with a step forward. I kept trying to come up with a way out of this. Surely I should have the upper hand on the bike, but he had the knife and I wouldn’t get anywhere quickly on these broken roads.

“Okay, okay!” a breathless cry escaped from my mouth as he took another, bigger step forward. Nothing was coming to mind.

The pathetic hand that wasn’t raised to protect my face fished the small bulge out of my pocket. I slipped a finger into the fold, hoping to find something that I knew wasn’t there. There were only a few bills, maybe ten dollars. It wasn’t a lot, maybe not enough.

He snatched the wallet and immediately began pedaling through the cash. I watched his mouth grow tight with frustration as he finished counting in only a few seconds. The front pockets were the next part of his search, taking out each card one by one. Upon finally grabbing a white card at the end, his eyes glance down to the picture and then slowly dragged across the words above it.

“Huh,” he chortled under his breath. “This it, In-ger-sol?”

“Yes…” I said shortly. Even in my duress, I couldn’t help gritting my teeth. I was already being robbed, was the personal jab really necessary? If only I needed more of a reason to hate the people here.

He stuffed the cards back into the folds and, with a hard chuck, sent the wallet flying into to the darkness. I didn’t even see where its direction, probably far into the trees .

My eyes lingered on the point of the knife. A wishful image appeared in my mind’s eye, seeing the knife lower and him leaving. I then skillfully disarm him and turned it on him. I’d taunt him a little and then, of course, I pick his wallet, if he had one, and take out his I.D. to make fun of it. Then I’d make him think I was going to give it back, maybe even motioning like I was handing it back to him, only to throw it far away to a place where he couldn’t find it. I hoped he had his meager emergency funds in there as well. I’d also do something else to make sure he was going to be totally on edge for the rest of the day.

I was surprised at my level of anger that was allowed to almost match my fear. Too bad I couldn’t use it to save my a*s.

“Phone too,” he ordered, discontinuing my hallucination. His faint eyes searched me up and down a few times until finally settling on the straps around my shoulders. “Where’s it at?”

Maybe the wallet was gone, but everything there was replaceable. I hoped that the growing darkness over us was enough cover for him to give up without notice the things that I had hidden behind me, things that wouldn’t be as easy to replace.

“I-I-I…” I stumbled. There was no way I would hand that over. There was no way that I could, at least all that was on it. “Uh, I don’t...i-i-it doesn’t work.”

That was partly true. The value wasn’t in its efficiency and certainly not in its novelty.

“I didn’t ask that,” he said, seemingly offended by my protest. “And I didn’t have to ask so nicely either. I could just cut...or gut you and take it.” He brought his face closer to mine. A sudden point gently pierced into my stomach. Before I realized how close he actually was, the tip of the blade was lost under the folds of my shirt. “Maybe I should do that. You know the cops won’t do s**t about it.”

That was also partly true. It could’ve been days or weeks before something was done. And if he had my phone then I might as well have just vanished into thin air. I imagined myself lying on the side of the road, happened upon by the police after a low energy, low-staffed search about the area. If he took my clothes then there wouldn’t have been much to reveal me against the umber leaves. All of my fingers and toes were still there, but the backpack and phone nowhere near.

My shoulders caved forward towards his as he slowly pressed the knife deeper into my shirt. I felt it tear through the fabric and pierce the skin. It’s dull point was getting sharper. It wasn’t deep, but I could tell the bright shirt would have a new stain to it. In that moment I knew he probably wouldn’t kill me, but I wasn’t going to get away completely whole.

Without a further though, I presented the bulge from my other pocket with an outstretched arm indistinctly forward. My eyes were unable to break from the knife at my abdomen. I wondered what I could possibly do if it moved even an inch forward. Would it hurt? Would I only feel a pressure? Does adrenaline dull extreme pain? When would it come back? Was there any record of someone surviving a stab wound in a sub par, small town hospital? All were things that I would’ve searched with the phone was still in my hand.

Was he playing with me? I didn’t dare look up. The sting in my shirt and the accompanying dampness under the folds of my skin demanded more of my focus. I wondered how I could determine if it was sweat or blood. After a clumsy tug, the phone remained in my palm. My grip on it must have been tighter than I realized. It was purely instinctual, almost protective. Another, harder tug and the phone limpy left my grasp.

A hard crack echoed from the pavement, sending a shock of renewed terror up my neck. It was followed soon behind by another thud, and then a smaller third. My eyes followed its path until stopped, ending faced down on the pavement. At least I wouldn’t be unsure of its fate.

“F****n’ idiot…” he grumbled under his breath, promptly leaning forward to grab it from the ground. It felt like minutes watching him squat down, lifetimes even. The pressure of the point was relieved and then fell from my abdomen. The door had swung wide open. The throbbing of my chest accelerated and I didn’t know how fast to enter, if at all, for it wouldn’t be able to turn around if I did. Before too long, the door was closing and my phone was on the other side. The threshold was never as clear as it was now.

My foot just barely missed his face. It swung it as hard as I could muster the strength to heave it and connected hard on the side of his neck. A small resistance slowed it before my leg swung freely into the air over his head. I hoped that meant that it had at least scraped the skin with my shoe. An eye for an eye, I thought, though I couldn’t believe I was rationalizing defense against my own assailant.

He clutched his neck and fell backwards with a strained gasp for air. The phone went flying from his hand, flipping overhead like a bat released into the dusk sky. I steadied the bike between me in disbelief that I actually manifested the idea from my mind. A second opportunity presented itself right at my feet. With another hard kick, I sent the blade flying off of the street, glimmering once in the light before it disappearing into the grass. I clutched the handles of my bike and pushed my feet against the pedals. Ten seconds would be enough to ensure an escape and put this experience far behind. I launched myself forward with all of my remaining energy, but then slowed to a stop as the pull of my conscience held me from going any further.

Failing to put distance between my assailant and I wouldn’t just be a mistake, it would  be my last decision. I was sure about that. But I couldn’t move an inch forward. The one instance where I saw my life and safety flash right before my eyes and I really thought about going back? Technically it was just a phone that could be replaced. But it was the most expensive thing that I owned; it was the most expensive thing that I ever owned. Not only that, but it was the most useful and used thing that I owned. I knew that if I rode away, the regret of leaving it wouldn’t take long to begin haunting me.

The thought was nothing short of insane, but I couldn’t just leave it behind. I couldn’t leave me behind. The majority of the worth of my time and work from the past year had slid across the pavement. All of my effort had crashed on its edges, possibly destroyed. It would be impossible to determine if it was broken beyond repair just from guessing its impact based on the sound. I had to be certain that if I was leaving, that the huge part of me lying of the pavement was gone too.

The assailant was still on the ground and clutching the side of his neck by the time I had reached my phone. Only a few moments had passed, but I thought surely that he would be ready to retaliate. Maybe I had reached his neck. His breaths were shallow enough that it seems that the blow was a lot better placed than I originally judged.

I picked it up from the ground. It’s mangled back faced me, almost to imply what I would as I slowly turned it over and clicked it on. One hundred lines forming into a sprawling, jagged network webbed over the illuminated display. My heart dropped, but abruptly stopped as I realized one last thing. I hesitantly swiped my fingers across the screen to the icon I had thoughtlessly taken for granted for so long before. I checked the notes; my work was there. I checked the photos; my work was there. It was badly broken, but not destroyed. Considering the turmoil of the circumstance, that was a miracle. It was salvageable.

I ran my fingers over the screen, subconsciously trying to wipe away some of the cracks before resignedly clicking it back off. It was it was in pretty bad shape. In fact, it was in terrible shape, but it would have to do until I could extract all of my work. A wave of surprised relief filled my lungs and washed over me with a sudden realization. My work, unsaved. If I hadn’t made the decision to go back, the haunt of regret would follow me not only for my lost money, but for the lost work that I had never thought to save it anywhere outside my phone. I drew in another breath of relief, trying to fathom the thought of starting all over again. I quickly placed it in my pocket at the horror of the thought.

My sigh of partial relief was interrupted by a blunt force to the back of my neck, knocking me off of my feet and onto the ground. The helmet smacked hard onto the ground, saving my forehead, though my nose scratched the fine rocks coming loose from the ground. An instinctive groan erupted from deep within my chest, though I couldn’t determine if the shock, pain had called it up.

“You mother f****r!” his voice roared. “Why didn’t I just cut you in the first place?”  

I wondered the same thing as I rolled myself over to see him standing above me. The bike had fallen over behind me. The shaft of light streamed between his legs. Without the awning of the hood over his face, I could see his deep set, bright blue eyes sizing me up. A decision was being made in those few seconds. Something in his expression had altered as he stared at the jarred and defenseless mess beneath him. His breathing had steadied and he seemed to center himself.

Another second ticked along. My body moved me without thinking. It rolled to the side and crawled awkwardly until barely regaining my balance to stand up. Gravity wasn’t important, only following his fists as they flew through the air.

The first blows had missed me, but he continued on with all of his strength. A few punches connected, one to my shoulder, a few to neck, and then many to my forehead and eyes. While I tried to cover my face with my arms, he slipped his fingers into the front edge of my helmet and pull it backward to expose my face for each of his hammering punches. Each fist was followed by another, harder one with an accompanying frustrated grunt. He wasn’t going to stop until I was knocked out.

My face quickly went numb. It had never felt this kind of abuse. It wasn’t long before I couldn’t take any more of it. Something drastic needed to be done if I didn’t want my eyes and mouth to be pulp. One of his fists connected to my teeth and I bit down hard. He cried out immediately, probably as shocked as I was at my creative defense.

I forced himself away from him, resorting to a crawl until I managed to stumble to my feet. The world was spinning and I felt gravity pull into two different directions. I looked for the cone of light of the headlight and, immediately upon finding it, ran to it as fast as I could. It was my ticket out, but I didn’t know if I’d have enough time to claim it. Mounting it would take just enough time for him to get to me. But I’d have to try. I couldn’t see anything, the road the trees, the sky, only the light. I just kept forward, knowing that I was getting farther away from him. Even if I made it to the bike, I would grab it and continue to run, just to get farther away. I would worry about riding it when I was more sure that I had time. Just when I was about to bolt, the earth shifted under me. My foot had broke off a piece of asphalt and slid into a shallow pothole.

My chest rattled by the pounding from within. My mind warned against it and by body fought it, but I had to see if I had put enough distance between us. I turned to see him, standing in the light, not more than five feet away. He had curled his fingers over his thumb, tightening the fist of the other one, preparing it to work overtime to make sure I was thoroughly harmed. Blood had already began to drip into the floor of my mouth. It couldn’t withstand anymore abuse.

Without thinking, I reached under my foot and grabbed one of the dislocated piece of pavement and raised it high. Its jagged edges pulled against my clutch and I hoped that it would be enough to keep him at bay.

“Leave me alone!” My arm drew higher as he continued to advance without the slightest change of pace. Aim was never something I had a proper handle of, but I tried to gather all that I had. Only had one shot. It was all I had and all I needed. I closed my eyes and pelted the piece of asphalt with all of my strength.

A hard thud forced my eyes back open. He was stumbling for a few moments until he hit the ground hard on his back, then nothing. There was no immediate movement, no tensing, only a faint groan that I barely heard from his lips. I approached cautiously, unaware of what exactly I had just done. His chest wasn’t moving. Nothing on his body seemed to be moving. Panic began to burn in my stomach. I tried to determine the outcome as he laid still on the pavement. As I drew closer small, irregular rises and falls of his chest became visible in the faint light.

The hood had knocked completely off of his head, revealing his full face and curly tufts of red hair.

“Ky-Kyle…?” I stammered, first quietly to myself. “Sullivan?”

It was an idea that I couldn’t even believe myself. My mouth grew wider in surprise as I recognized the face.

Kyle Sullivan brought his hand to gently nurse his cheek. The fresh scrape on his face matched the one on his neck: not deep, but visible nonetheless. He was still just as tall, built, and scary-looking as when we were in high school, though the patchy beard and bloated face aged him more than what I guessed the near decade had already done.

His eyes flared open. Even from the ground, the look he gave petrified me. He rolled his body over on its side and got back to his feet, again standing a whole head taller than me. I stared in shock at his durability. I, however, knew I didn’t have any fight left. Fatigue weighed down my shoulders and tightened my neck.

Wordlessly, Kyle Sullivan stepped forward and grabbed my arm, nearly crushing it under in his grip. I tried to wretch myself free, but it was unmatched to his strength. His hand reached into my pocket and grabbed the phone. I wanted to say something, scream at him longer, but my jaw and neck were already starting to throb from the swelling that was on its way.

He clicked it on, his expression turning from victory to anger. “You f****n’ broke the screen!” He breathed deeply again and then continued, more to himself. “It’s worthless now.” With a quick and angry grunt, he tossed it to the side like the wallet, though much harder.

His hand then went to the strap of my backpack and peeled it from my shoulder. Pulling it from me, he turned me around and pressed the sole of his shoe against my back. With a frustrated huff he kicked into me, free from the straps and sending me forward to my knees.

“I don’t have anything else, I swear,” I pleaded between breaths. I was too tired, too scared, and too hopeless to brace myself for whatever surprise he had for me next.

Nothing more than chorus of the insects and nocturnal birds filled the air. I wondered if they were watching and what they made of this pitiful scene. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but nothing happened. I didn’t know what I expected, but my eyes closed in anticipation. A taunt, a punch, a stab maybe? I couldn’t determine what I should anticipate, or maybe hope for, but nothing happened. After a few more moments of nothing, I wondered if he had left. Was that it? Was I free? I turned around and was swiftly met with a solid, clenched fist that slid across my face before I could say another word. The ground was swept from under me.

The hazy shaft from the headlight moved from the ground into the air and dimmed with the accompaniment of accelerating ticks of a sprocket before blending with the sounds of the night.