There was an urgency to her stumbling, as she tripped down the alley. Her heart beat in her ribcage, pounding against her lungs, and her breath came in short gasps.
He was the picture of calm. Inside he was just as worked up as she, but you would never know it to look at him. His steps echoed succinctly off the brick walls surrounding them on all sides as he followed her panicked fumbling.
She screamed out for help, and in the same moment knew it was futile. There was nobody around. He had cornered her in an abandoned section of the town. She was going to die.
Her eyes were wild as she turned around, back against a wall. Her fear and anxiety permeated the air and it sent a thrill up his spine. He was close. He would have her.
He closed in and her body acted before her mind had a chance to. She threw herself at him, tackling him around the waist and went down with him, kicking and scratching.
He'd never had anyone FIGHT BACK before. It was so surprising and off putting that he found himself on the dirty gravely ground with a small pile of spitting and hitting GIRL in his lap. He threw his arms over his face and curled into a ball, protecting his underbelly and lay still as he listened to her clopping feet grow quieter with distance.
She had gotten away. She could not stop running. She lost her shoes somewhere along they way. They were no good for the speed, anyway. She ran until her lungs burned with the effort, and still she ran.
He lay on the ground, staring up at the dimming sky, a thing only barely visible between the tops of the buildings. His breathing was no longer calm, his fists held tight to control the shaking. He really thought he'd had her. He was wrong. He got up jerkily, knowing he had to continue the fight. There was an urgency to his steps, as he pointed himself home.
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