I step outside, juggling my messenger bag, a coffee mug and the shop keys in my hands. It’s raining. “Surprise, surprise,” I mutter darkly under my breath. I’ve been in England for two months and I love it, but the one thing that I could go without is the constant gloomy weather. Sighing, I turn and lock the door of the bookshop. A cold wind swoops down from the clouds, pelting me even harder with fat droplets. I shiver and turn up the collar of my peacoat. It’s 5 o’clock on a September afternoon -- a typical day in this tiny village, tucked away in a remote part of the countryside. Around me, other shops lining Main Street are closing up, and the sidewalks are filling with people on their way home. I shoulder my bag, walk down the steps and join them.
There is a slight commotion across the street when the door of the pub bangs open and spits out three filthy men. They are obviously inebriated -- they stumble backwards and shout obscenities at the owner of the pub, eventually widening their targets to the poor man’s mother and eventually the human race as a whole. I recognize the butcher’s wife as she brushes past me, shaking her head. “Lowlife scum, stirring up trouble in our village.” she sends them a furious glare. “Nothing good will come of it, mark my words.” I can’t help but agree.
I walk a little faster, hoping to reach the inn I’ve been living out of without being noticed. No such luck. I hear a few wolf-whistles from behind me and my heart skips a beat. They’re not looking at me, are they? Quickly glancing over my shoulder, I scan the road for any signs of them. All three of them are slouching in a doorframe not two blocks down, eyeing me in a way that scares me more than words can describe.
“Hey bitch, wanna give Daddy a little kiss?” one of them slurs, sending the other two into drunken laughter. I increase my pace, stomach filling with dread. I hazard another look backwards, and to my horror, they’re following me. Not fast, just a slow, leisurely saunter that belies their intentions very clearly. I whip my head from side to side, searching desperately for something - or someone - to help me. The streets have begun to empty again, and the few who are left hurry away. They disappear into their homes seemingly like magic. Blood pulses rapidly through my veins, filling my head with a distant rushing sound.
“Come on, sweetheart. We don’t bite.” said one of the voices, much closer this time. “Not hard, anyway.” he sniggers. I break into a run, turning off the main avenue to a narrower road. My only thought is of escape. “Hey! Where do you think you’re going?” The three men start chasing after me at a surprisingly quick pace. My bag bangs against my leg as I run, taking wild lefts and rights onto increasingly twisted and narrow streets until I’m hopelessly lost. I reach an alleyway between two dumpy duplexes, and making a split-second decision, dash down it. There is a large, smelly dumpster leaning against one of the brick walls; I crouch down behind it and hide, trying to regain my breath as quietly as possible.
Several minutes pass by with no sign of my pursuers. I begin to relax and am about to stand up when a hand shoots out from nowhere and grabs my arm. “Thought you’d lost us, eh, sweetheart?” A rough, unshaven face leers out at me from the shadows. My heart is hammering in my throat, but I manage to stay sane enough to think. I need to get out of here, fast. One man I can handle. Two, unlikely. Three, definitely not. Conclusion: take care of this lunatic and get my butt out of here.
I suddenly smile sweetly and reply in a seductive voice, “No, handsome. I just wanted to get you alone.” Understandably, this takes him by surprise. I’m still smiling as I swing my bag off my shoulder and slam it into his jaw. He hits the ground with a satisfying thud. “Well. That went nicely.” I say to myself. I pick up my bag and walk out toward the street.
“Not so fast.” Two menacing figures materialize in front of me. I didn’t even hear them approaching. All pretense of friendliness is gone. Their faces are twisted into twin masks of anger. “Oi, did you see what she did to Joe?” one of them said.
“Yeah. We can’t allow that kind of behaviour, can we? She must be punished.” The second man lingered on the last word, his eyes roving the length of my body hungrily. I try to scream out for help, something, but an arm is across my mouth, choking me off. Just then, their friend Joe wakes up. And he’s not pleased. He scrambles to his feet, his eyes flashing with rage.
“Back off, boys. She’s mine.” The arm is removed from my face, and I scream out. I am cut off for the second time when Joe shoves me against the wall and pins me there. He brings a fist back and sends it flying into my face. The force of the blow causes my head to crack against the bricks. Stars explode behind my eyes and I begin to sway dangerously. A second fist to my stomach pushes the air from my lungs. I collapse, throwing out an arm to break my fall.
All three of them close in on me, and any last hope of escape I clung to is now gone. Just before I drift out of consciousness, I hear a different voice from farther away.
“Hey! Hey you - leave her alone!” Then everything goes black.
