Kevin Died

22. The Chase (Danielle)

22. The Chase (Danielle)

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Danielle was discombobulated.

Luke had gone off after Ricardo for some reason. Danielle wasn't exactly positive as to why, but she did think she saw Ricardo soaking wet as he was making his departure.

That was quite a while ago though. And she had taken plenty of shots since then.

She stumbled through the crowd of people, struggling to keep her balance in her drunken state. For some reason this didn't feel like it usually did when she drank.

Something was different... Wrong almost.

She called to her friends. "Sayora! Jory!"

She looked around at the crowd of faces, but couldn't single out the two she was looking for. Things were only made worse by the fact that she wasn't in the right state of mind and everything seemed like too much. Too loud.

"Sayora!" She called again, but Sayora was nowhere in sight.

She made her way to the front of the house and went out the front door. It was emptier out here now. People were starting to go home. At this point, the party had been raging for at least two hours. It was chilly too, even with her having Luke's sweater on. She didn't remember how she ended up with it, but she was positive Luke had given it to her at some point. She wore it a lot anyway.

"Jory?!" She called out into the night. "Say?!"

She got a couple of weird looks from the handful of people around, but ignored them. She went out, starting down the path that acted as both the entrance and exit to the Simmons residence.

She didn't know why she was going down this path. Some part of her brain, a very unreasonable part, was telling her that maybe Sayora and Jory had wandered off this way for some reason.

Again, Danielle was not in the right state of mind. The path toward the road seemed to almost writhe under her feet as if the earth itself was alive.

Her vision was obscured by darkness and there was only light coming from the lamps that lit the path. Just enough to see where you were going, but not much else.

The music in the background grew fainter and fainter as she walked. Eventually she'd forgotten all about her mission to find her friends and was just aimlessly walking.

Her head was killing her and she felt like throwing up. Her stomach churned with every step she took and it surprised her, even in the state that she was in, that she hadn't blacked out by now.

It wasn't until another minute or so of meandering that she felt like she was being watched.

She spun around to look behind her and saw no one. There was, however a bend in the path so for all she knew someone could've been just out of her view hiding behind the tall shrubs that lined the edges of the path.

She shook her head and proceeded walking. The path straightened out, which was good for her because the course of the path with its bends and snake-like design wasn't helping.

As quickly as she'd thought about it, the idea that someone was watching her slipped from her mind.

That was until she'd definitely heard footsteps behind her.

She stopped in her tracks, paranoia consuming her and attempted to assess the situation. She'd taken a class on what to do in these types of situations. For women who feared they were being followed and what to do if they indeed were.

But what to do when the woman was beyond drunk had not been discussed in that one class she'd taken. She was alone now. The music was nothing but a faint echo at this point. No one could save her.

Heartbeat accelerating, Danielle turned to face whoever it was and initially let out a sigh of relief.

"It's you," she slurred to the person. "You almost gave me a heart attack!"

The person just stood there, ominously staring at her.

Danielle took note of the attire.

Black hoodie. Leather gloves. Black army boots. And a blank expression on their face.

"Are you okay?" Danielle asked softly, taking a step back.
She was suddenly feeling like she wouldn't be okay in a few moments.

She was right.

The response to her question was several powerful, angry-like steps taken toward her.

This person was after her. So with wide, fear-filled eyes, she ran the opposite direction.

"Help me!" She cried. "Someone help!"

She could only hope to make it out into the road where surely someone would pass by. If not, she was screwed. The Simmons home was on secluded private property. The closest neighbor was a good fifteen minutes away on foot.

"Someone, please!" She sobbed. Tears began to stain her face, as she realized she was in no condition to properly escape.

The world spun around her, and though the adrenaline helped, she was too far gone. But she kept pushing.

She had been closer to the end of the trail than she'd anticipated because she soon was out on the open road. With a quick glance at her surroundings she saw a car parked by the edge of the road, lined by a small area of trees.

"Thank God!" She exclaimed, rushing over to the car.

She banged on the drivers' side window. "Help me! Is someone in there?! Please, help me I've been attacked—"

Her plea was cut short by the attacker pushing her against the car with a mighty force. She had definitely not been running fast. At least not fast enough to outrun this person.

"Please!" She plead. "You don't have to do this! Just tell me what you want!"

The pursuer grabbed her by her hair and yanked hard, snapping her head back, exposing her throat.

"No!" Danielle said, trying to fight as best she could. She sobbed as she wriggled and kicked. She didn't want to die.

Then she felt the cold edge of an object placed against her throat. Her eyes widened in horror when she realized it was a knife.

Danielle screamed.

A shrill... terrified... earsplitting scream.

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