Kevin Died

29. There Will Be Blood (Sayora)

29. There Will Be Blood (Sayora)

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After Ricardo was down, the attacker—"X" was what Ricardo called him—was right on Sayora.

She had screamed and attempted to make a run for it, but he was too fast. He grabbed her from behind, putting her in a chokehold.

She was struggling for breath, letting out choked gasps, hitting and clawing at the guy's arm as best she could in her position. His hold around her neck tightened and her lungs were almost burning, demanding oxygen.

She knew her face was probably red and her eyes began to sting as tears began clouding her vision. Where was Jory? Where was Travis? She needed help.

Desperately.

Her heart was pounding and she knew if they kept like this she would be dead soon. She forced herself to think. As scared as she was. As frantic as she was. Still fighting for air, she forced herself to think. How could she get out of this?

An idea hit her, though she had doubts about how well it would work, and she immediately went into action.

She deliberately began to slowly stop fighting. She made her hits on his arm weaker, less power behind them. She slowly stopped trying to break out of the hold. She stopped fighting for air and began holding her breath, as painful as it was to do so.

Then she made her body go completely limp.

The guy held her a few seconds more, ensuring that she was dead, before dropping her limp body to the floor.

She was expecting to be dropped, but it was still jarring to let it happen and deliberately not catch her fall. Be that as it may, she appeared dead, or knocked out at least, which was what she'd intended. She was sprawled on the floor, facing the ceiling above, her eyes closed. She could still feel his presence looming above her. Staring at her. Studying her.

Sayora hoped he thought he'd killed her because there would be nothing stopping him from stabbing her or slicing her throat open to make sure the job was totally done.

Just as he'd done to Danielle.

She prayed that if killing her had been his intent, that he didn't have the sense enough to check for a pulse. Her lungs were on fire now and her heart was racing like crazy. She couldn't hold her breath much longer, but she didn't dare move a single muscle or take a single breath until she was sure he left.

As if on cue, she heard his footsteps walking away, in the direction Ricardo's body was in. Was Ricky dead? She'd seen him get stabbed, but there was no telling the severity of the wound.

No, he's okay, she told herself. He has come too far for it to end like this. He's okay. He'll be okay.

She took shallow, inaudible breaths. It wasn't much, but it was relief. That's all she could do in this moment. But what was she to do now?

Her phone was in her pocket. She had to call the Sheriff's Department, but she was terrified to move, still. What if "X" turned around to see her moving? She could attempt to do it as stealthily as possible, using one hand to dig in her pocket and do the whole emergency call thing, but the risk was still the same. Would she move her head to see what she was doing or try to navigate the phone without looking at it? Her options were risk him seeing her alive or hit the wrong buttons on her phone by accident and maybe end up not calling anyone.

The decision was impossible and she felt this tremendous pressure that if she didn't think of something quickly; if Ricky wasn't dead, "X" would make sure he was soon.