Page 2 of No Escape

The killer had thought about his method several times. He had thought about how he would do it. But each time, it was different. That was what he liked about it. He could savor each kill, because they wereoh so different.

This time, he felt the knife in his pocket. He ran his fingers over the cold metal—but decided he was going to use his hands. He almost laughed out loud as he slipped on a pair of surgical gloves.

He still hasn’t noticed, the killer thought.HE deserves to die.

The killer stepped forward slowly and Joshua continued typing away, blissfully unaware of his impending doom. The click and clack of the keyboard began to irritate the killer.

The sound had to stop.

Joshua had to stop.

Just as he reached forward, the killer stepped on a floorboard that creaked. Joshua finally turned around and looked up at him, terror and surprise etched across his face in equal measure.

The fear in his eyes was unmistakable and palpable.

The terror of those moments before death was what the killer liked the most. It was intoxicating and filled him with a sense of power. He could see it in Joshua’s face—he knew his time had come to an end. He knew he was about to die.

“No!” Joshua yelled. “Please!”

But the killer sprang forward, wrapping his fingers around Joshua’s neck.

“How does it feel, Josh?!” the killer screamed, panting as he squeezed the air from Joshua’s throat.

“I can’t breathe!” Joshua gasped, clawing at the killer’s hands and trying to pry them off of him. His eyes bulged in terror as he struggled to break free.

But this only fueled the killer’s rage further. He held on tight, determined to make Joshua suffer.

Joshua reached up and grabbed a hold of his keyboard, smashing it against the killer’s head with one final burst of energy and adrenaline. The force was enough to cause the killer to loosen his grip and stagger backwards.

The world looked hazy for a moment, and the killer felt a warm trickle of blood dripping down the side of his face. Through the haze, he saw Joshua rushing toward the doorway.

He couldn’t let him go. Not when revenge was so close.

The killer threw himself forward, knocking Joshua into the side of the solid door frame. Joshua let out a gasp, and this time, the killer would make no mistake about it.

He reached into his pocket, grabbed the knife, and then stabbed downward toward Joshua’s throat with all his might.

But something rushed through the air at equal speed to meet his thrust.

It was a hand. A woman’s hand.

It blocked his wrist and then tried to grab for the knife, but the killer threw a punch that landed square on the woman’s face.

She let out a gasp and fell back for a second. But she was relentless. She came at the killer again, this time wrapping her arms around his waist and yanking him back onto the floor.

They both fell to the ground with a crash. The knife slipped from the killer’s grasp and slid along the wooden floor, and pain ricocheted along his body from his already broken ribs.

The killer then saw Joshua in the dim light, sitting half conscious, his body propped up against the doorway. He knew this was his last chance.

The killer reached out, grabbed the knife, and then staggered to his feet. He rushed at Joshua, but the woman on the floor next to him kicked out her leg, tripping the killer.

He fell forward, and the woman grabbed the back of his head and clattered it against the doorway next to a now wide-eyed and petrified Joshua.

Just as the killer began to lose consciousness, he felt handcuffs being placed on his wrists. He looked up and saw, in the gloom, the face of the woman, lit by a solitary shard of light.

He recognized her immediately as his nemesis. The one who had been on his tail for months. She was bloodied. She was bruised. But she was unmistakable.

She was Agent Valerie Law.

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