Amelia’s heart pounds as she glances over her shoulder.
What was that noise?
Or that one. A footstep?
Oh, God. It sounded like somebody getting hit.
Why didn’t she listen to her inner voice? What the heck is she doing walking around out here in the dark when there’s a fucking rapist loose on campus?
Stupid stupid stupid.
There’s a rustling in the trees beside her. She has no idea how to even guess what it is. Is it some kind of animal? Squirrels are sleeping now, right? What animals are awake at night? Skunks? Oh, wouldn’t that be great. Owls. Mice too, oh and bats. Maybe a raccoon?
It could just as easily be a human predator. How do you tell? Characters in books and movies always know. How?
She’s read about using keys as a weapon, so she holds the ring in her palm, pushing the pointy ends of the keys between her knuckles. It’s supposed to make a big impression if you have to punch somebody.
Well.
Gives her something to hold onto anyway.
Just walk faster. Take the right branch of the path and go to the pub instead. Much closer than the Res and there’s bound to be somebody to walk home with from there. Someplace bright. She needs light and people and noise. Not quiet and dark like this.
Danger.
She should have thought all this through before blundering out into the night.
Stupid.
Why is it she can meticulously plan out every detail in an outline but her life is so totally haphazard? Start getting organized. Pay more attention to the real world, and less to fictional characters.
Just walk a little faster. Don’t be such a wuss.
There’s nothing out here. Nothing bad ever happens to her. She’s too ordinary. Nothing here to interest a monster. Just a boring middle class girl with boring middle class dreams and — crack.
What was that?
Shit. Her heart is pounding.
Where did that come from? What was that?
Walk a little faster.
Stop it. Nothing bad ever happens to her. Nothing bad is likely to happen. Hell, it’s hard to be a novelist with life experience this boring. Boring Amelia, follows the rules. Not at all interesting.
Never breaking a bone, getting knocked up, rolling the car, or getting caught shoplifting. Everybody else, never her. She doesn’t do wild and crazy things. No. She’s too boring. She’s always tucked up somewhere with a book. Oh god.
Maybe that means it’s her turn now…
No. Don’t be an idiot. What are the odds? Well, let’s think about this for a minute. Since all the intelligent women are taking sensible precautions, since they aren’t running around in the dark all by themselves in the middle of the night. Well, those women have it made.
If the limp-dick-rat-bastard-rapist is out hunting, she is probably the easiest target going.
But what are the odds?
Probably better than she wants.
She’s got her cell phone. What could happen?
Hmm. Quite a lot before help could possibly arrive.
That’s the problem.
It can’t be far to the pub now anyway.
Funny how close it always seemed in the daylight.
Stay calm, that’s the ticket.
One time a nurse told her hospital medical staff aren’t supposed run, even in an emergency, because it triggers the flight response and adrenaline floods through them and makes them all jittery. They need to keep calm to properly assess the nature of the medical emergency to treat it.
So the same thing should be true here, right? Running will just make her more scared.
Right?
Except the sound of feet pounding on the path behind her sends a cold spike of terror down her spine. Making her heart pound faster. Goddamn. Somebody is running toward her.
Fuck the path. She dives into the bushes and cowers behind a tree as the running feet come closer.
Screw this victim crap. Time to call Dudley Do-right. But Eric will have to do. She pulls out her cell phone and punches in his number. He’s in the library tonight.
She holds her breath as the number dials while the pounding footsteps come closer. She squeezes her eyes closed and holds her breath as the sound of the feet get closer and then … run past. She is about to start breathing again when she realizes that there are a second pair of feet running past. Oh my god it IS the rapist and he’s chasing somebody. Gotta help stop the bastard.
She steps out on the path and starts following the sound of running feet. Suddenly she hears the sound of a ringing cell phone. And Eric’s voice is coming out of the phone still clutched in her hand, improbably saying, “I would’ve won if I didn’t have to stop to answer the phone. Hello?”
And from the path ahead she hears Jose laughing. Jesus they scared her half to death and they were running a footrace? In the dark? In the middle of the night?
Men are nuts. Sheesh.
Amelia says into the phone, “Hey Eric is that you? I’m done work and I was gonna drop by the pub and grab a beer. You wanna come?”
