When All is Lost

Chapter 11

I stumbled back, hiding myself around the corner. The sounds of Abby gurgling and choking, gasping in wet spurts filled my ears. Her suffering was so poignant that I physically felt it.

I pushed myself off the wall, leaving a smear of red on the yellow paint in the process. One step after the other, I let my feet lead me to safety. Pulling out the key card, I opened a room door halfway down the hall. I put my hand in my jacket pocket to touch the door handle, taking extra care not to leave any blood behind.

Once inside, I held the door open by a crack. "Hey!" I screamed. "Leave her alone, asshole!"

Without waiting, I quickly and quietly shut the room's door and waited. I watched through the peephole, trying not to hyperventilate as I felt a drop of blood roll slowly down my arm as I once again held it to my chest. Each second was nearly too much to bear and I found myself needing to lean on the door so my knees wouldn't buckle.

Finally, footsteps pounded down the hall and I watched as Abby's killer passed my door. I counted the seconds in my head, trying to picture how long it would take before he turned a corner. I couldn't grasp it. I was losing my sense of time and a small part of me started to wonder if I was going into shock.

I knew I was in trouble. I was bleeding too much and more people would come. I needed to only focus on escaping or I'd have no chance at all. Everything else had to wait.

Gritting my teeth, I stood straight. I clutched the knife in one hand and put pressure on my chest wound with my other. I then exited the room. Closing the door behind me, I hesitated only to listen.

Nothing.

That was all the confirmation I needed. I staggered forward into a run, slowing only to leave a bloody handprint on the majority of the doors I passed. Too soon I reached Abby.

Her killer had left her face down in her own blood, the tips of her hair resting in it. I was tempted to turn her over, brush her hair out of her face, carry her downstairs with me. Instead, I yanked her backpack off her body, nearly wrenching her arms in the process.

I'm sorry.

I threw a strap over one shoulder, letting the bag rest next to mine, and took off again. To my dismay, the stairs were only just at the end of the hall. Abby had been so close. I couldn't understand why she hadn't made it.

Did she wait for me?

I shut that thought down and kept going.

"Look there's blood here, too!"

At the stair's door, I put my hand in my pocket again to open it. They were too close, but I was forced to waste precious seconds to make sure the door closed softly behind me. When it clicked shut, I faced the daunting task in front of me – stairs.

Taking a deep breath, I started down them. The first flight was easy enough, but by the second, the edges of my vision started to blur. Be it shock or blood loss, I could feel my body sway precariously as I descended. At one point I had to stop to vomit. Wiping my chin with the back of my hand, dizziness threatened to overwhelm me.

For a fraction of a second, I considered giving up. My body was telling me to and frankly, I was exhausted. I let my eyes flutter shut, just wanting a moment of reprieve.

I can't.

I dug my fingernails into the cuts on my palms, letting the pain jolt me out of my stupor. Sucking in air, I forced myself on, feeling completely numb by the time I made it to the first floor.

I stumbled out into the first-floor hallway, completely forgetting to check for signs of life beforehand. It turned out that it didn't matter. It was just me and Mark. It took some maneuvering to get my feet to obey me and move around him, but I didn't stop. I wouldn't until I was outside.