Prologue
February 2nd 1:42am
Little beads of ice hit my face relentlessly. My breath comes in shallow gasps; each exhale causing a fogging effect in response to the sharp contrast between my body temperature and the frigid air of the winter storm that has New York in its grip.
‘Calm Down!’ I mentally scold myself as I will my breathing to steady. Every breath is like an assault to my lungs. The frozen air feels like tiny shards of glass with every quick, shallow inhale.
The ground is slippery below my feet. It has been raining all day but now has turned to a thin film of ice that is getting thicker by the minute.
I close my eyes and force myself to ignore what is going on around me. I know I have to calm down if I’m going to figure a way out of this. Every muscle in my body burns and shakes – each has been pushed beyond its limit.
‘Ignore the pain and don’t move!’ I keep reciting silently to myself as I hold my position pressed firmly against one of the ten roof top air conditioning units.
I allow myself to open my eyes just long enough to survey my surroundings. A small pool of blood is forming around my bare feet; I can’t remember where, exactly, I kicked off my heels but I knew they were just slowing me down when I made the choice. My heart leaps into my throat as I notice the edge of the ledge in front of me is just inches past my toes and about a foot past my outstretched left hand.
‘I must have ran clear to the far corner of the roof in my blind; fear fueled haste’ is the thought that flows through my mind as I close my eyes once again. The knowledge makes my back press firmer and my fingers tighten grip tighter to the air conditioner.
The wind has picked up when I hear the door leading to the roof fly open. I can hear my pursuents mumbling in quiet voices as the weight of their footsteps make the frozen ground crack slightly beneath their boots.
“We know you’re up here.” The first voice yells.
“You have no place left to run.” The second adds; nearly savoring the words as he speaks them.
My breath catches in my throat as my eyes open wide. The realization of just how familiar that second voice is cuts me to the quick.
‘No, not him,’ I ache, how could he do this to me?’ my mind is spinning.
I slowly lean to my right; attempting to peak around my hiding place – hoping I can see what direction they are heading in. Hoping I can catch a quick glance at his face and see that it really isn’t him.
That familiar voice yells out again, “Come out, come out” taunting me “We just want to talk.” He lies as they both laugh.
I can only see one man’s face as I peer around the corner. The light shadows his features a bit – but it is definitely him.
‘Oh, how can this be?’ my heart shatters and I blink as tears spill over my lids.
I look towards him again; this time not at the face I know all too well, but at the metal barrel of the .22 he is holding in front of him. His head is turning slowing from right to left and back again as he scans the rooftop.
I press my body against the machine behind me for balance as I slide down until I am as low to the ground as I can get. The freezing rain stinging as it hits my bar legs; exposed from my torn dress. The backside of my underwear instantly become wet as my butt reaches the ground and the heels of my feet at the same time.
“Hey,” he yells to the partner “close that access door and take the far side of the roof. I’ll take this side.”
“Got it!” the other man replies and I can hear his crunching footsteps as he runs in the other direction. “Hey, what do you want me to do with her if I find her first?” he asks just after I hear the access door close with an echoing bang.
“Bring her to me. I’ve got some ideas…” the familiar voice responds with a smile in his tone. And with that I can hear a set of boots running off as his partner heads from the door to the opposite side of the roof.
My legs ache and my feet are sliding beneath me as I am trying to hold my position. Tears freely flow down my cheeks as fear, frustration, confusion and betrayal overwhelm me.
‘How could I have been so wrong about the people close to me?’ I wonder wearily ‘this can’t be happening!’ I decide as denial washes over me and his footsteps are getting closer.
I think most people at this point would see their life flash before their eyes. Feeling anger and sadness; regretting whatever it was that led them to the situation I am now in. But me… I just feel lost.
Everyone has a past. Years of decisions, memories, successes, failures and everything in between. Everyone but me. My first memory was three months ago when I woke up in a hospital bed to the sound of voices of people I did not know.
My feet slide out from under me and my hands are forced to let go of the A/C unit that is my life-line. Without my hold, fear ignites my body with the realization that the ledge I am sitting on is sloped forward toward the dark abyss nearly a thousand feet above the ground. A small cry of fear escapes my lips.
It has been three months and here is what I know: My name is Evey Alishay. I am 22 years old and I was in a car accident that took every memory I ever had after a Halloween party 92 days ago. I work in the 70 story building I am currently on the roof’s edge of.
He is just a few paces from me now.
There is nothing but ice blow my fingers as I claw at the ground for something to hold on to while my feet are now dangling over the edge.
… And I am slipping!
