Page 52 of Norah

My heart breaks to think of him finding my body, cold and unmoving, not being able to say goodbye. Iwishit could be different, but this is the only way. I said my farewell to Ethan the moment I jumped from the window.

Hiding behind the dumpster is the obvious choice, which prompts me to search for another option. Given Simon’s apparent advantage in age and strength, I need to take him by surprise, rather than allowing him to take the offensive. Scanning the alley, I assess the few items for any potential.

The trash bins are plastic, so they’re no help. The dumpster is too big for me to move more than a couple of feet, even at my top strength. Which I’m most definitelynot, given the multitude of injuries I incurred during my daredevil jump from five stories up. Injuries that are sapping my strength at a quickening pace, draining away like the blood that still pours from my wounds.

Why couldn’t I heal faster?But it’s only been a couple of minutes since I hit the pavement below our apartment, not enough time to mend anything enough to count. I’ll have to rely on strategy and whatever energy I can muster.

An idea emerges when I glance at the fire escape. I reach for the railings at the lowest level, but can’t quite reach.Shit.Only moments left before Simon gets here.

Putting all my weight on the leg that isn’t broken, I jump high enough to grasp one metal rail and yank it down and off with a twist. My broken ribs dig deeper into my lung, and another burst of blood comes out with a cough.Just hold on.Clutching the metal rod in my hand, I take a quick step to the side of the alley and press myself flat against the rough brick. Then I catch my breath and pray.

I Will Not Go Quietly

ETHAN

It’s too quiet.

I step inside the apartment, scanning the large open living area to see no one and nothing out of place. The only sounds I hear are the hum of the fridge, and the dull rushing sound of traffic going by outside. It all seems so normal, I can almost convince myself that there’s nothing wrong.Almost.

Except… The traffic noise seems a little louder than usual. I’ve lived in this apartment for five years, and know all the ambient street sounds by heart. It sounds like a window is open, which is odd given the cold April weather.

Is it possible the intruder entered through a window? We don’t have fire escapes in this building; it would take a special skill or ability to enter that way.

Like a vampire?I’ve known it was a distinct possibility ever since I received Norah’s text, a sobering reminder of Roman’s warning not so long ago. As I stand in my apartment, the reality of it crashes into me with a sickening thud, sending my gut to my feet.Don’t assume the worst yet.

I try to quell the growing panic, recalling my military training as I try to stay calm. Taking several deep breaths, I move further into the apartment, all senses on high alert.

The open concept living space contains the kitchen and dining area; a hallway leads to two bedrooms, a bath, and a laundry area with storage. I can see that the bedroom and bathroom doors are open. As I walk towards the hallway, my heart thumps haphazardly. The persistent sense of dread has only intensified since getting here.

During my frenzied trip from work, I had held tight to the idea that it might be a misunderstanding, that nothing was actually wrong. It’s impossible to cling to the hope now; the entire apartment is heavy with something dark.Something evil.There’s an oily scent that snakes through the space, making my stomach turn.

I enter the hallway, noticing pieces of wood lying near the bedroom door. As I turn to look in the bedroom, heart in my throat, I give myself one moment to take everything in. The doorjamb is gone, the wooden frame removed without evidence of any tools being used. The wood is in small pieces scattered on the floor. A light breeze catches the sawdust, making small eddies and swirls.

A small piece of darker wood, polished and wet, pokes out from underneath the dresser. The window smashed open, a large hole framed by jagged shards of glass. Thick redness smeared on several larger hunks, still coagulating. Aside from me, the room is empty.

Oh God. What happened to Norah?Through the shock, my brain stumbles to make the connections. A wave of numb terror engulfs my body, snatching away my breath and seizing my heart with fear.No. No time for panic. I need to do something.Although she isn’t here, it doesn’t mean she’s gone for good.

I force my still sluggish brain back into gear to make sense of what I’m seeing and what I need to do next. Norah must have been in here when she texted me, hiding until the invader found her. Perhaps tried to attack. The missing door frame was an act of… intimidation, most likely.What happened to her after that?

There’s no sign of a struggle or blood inside the room, only the broken window stained with it. The only likely explanation I can come up with is one that makes me feel sick.Norah must have jumped out the window to escape.As soon as I think about it, I know it’s true. And the image of my girl so terrified as to throw herself out a fucking window to get away…

Rage twists with guilt, filling my heart and twisting it in agony.Why wasn’t I here to protect her? Who came here and caused this? Is she still alive?

Rage propels me into action, and I leap across the room to the broken window. My chest heavy with dread, I look down to the ground, praying not to see Norah’s crumpled body lying below.Please, no.There’s no one out there, but my relief is short-lived. I see two points of impact about ten feet apart, both spattered with blood.

I’m flooded by so many emotions at once- thankfulness that Norah isn’t dead on the pavement, fear of where she is now, terror about what she’s facing, blinding rage towards whoever forced her to this. But I need to shove all my emotions into a small corner of my brain, deal with it later, so I can be single-minded in my task.

In a flash, I teleport to the ground, looking for clues to what happened. I run to one of the bloodied areas to see splashes of red and small pools of blood. While there appear to have been many injuries, the amount of blood left behind doesn’t seem life-threatening.At least it wasn’t then.

The other bloodied area has a bigger spread, which makes me believe it was where the intruder landed. Which means the first spot I inspected, with all the wet spots shining on the pavement, was likely where my girl hit the ground.Oh God.

A scream of impotent rage erupts without thought. The realization thatmy Norah, my beautiful girl, lay here injured after falling five stories, makes me ill. My gut twists, and I have to fight back the urge to vomit.Focus on the task at hand. Find Norah.There must be a trail.I just need to find it.

Hampered by the search, I move slower than I’d like, as I look around for more red wetness nearby. There are no other people around, which means this only happened a short time ago. Which is one small bit of good news for me, meaning it’s less likely anyone compromised the blood trail.

Scanning the ground in all directions, I locate a small puddle about ten feet away. Dipping my finger into the wetness, I pull it away to see a dark red liquid. Relief mixes with pain, knowing that while I’m on the right track, there’s also a good chance that this is Norah’s blood.Fuck.

I continue walking, noticing the red spots appearing closer together, and in greater amounts. It’s a terrifying discovery. How badly is Norah hurt? What about the man chasing her? As much as I wish he had run off, I doubt it.

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