The woman forced herself not to look at the man closing in on her. It was a Thursday night, and therefore not much was open now. She was in a part of town that consisted mainly of family owned businesses and small chains. Nothing was open. There were no houses in which to seek refuge and many of the streetlamps were burnt out. No cars traveled this road.
Risking losing her balance, she turned onto a larger street with more light, and (possibly) population. She didn't know why she was being chased, but she knew that if she stopped for breath, he would catch her and she would most likely be kidnapped, raped, or worse. All she knew is that he had been hanging around her motel for some days now, watching her. She hadn't actually thought him to be watching her; she had assumed that she had caught his eye on occasion. Many occasions.
She badly wanted to shout something to him, but she knew it would slow her down. Instead, she kept her eyes peeled for any sign of life forms that may help her. An old woman walked on the sidewalk with her cat, but she ran past her. She wasn't so desperate as to threaten the life of the elderly. A great, right light shone in the distance and she nearly wept. So many people had raved about the store, but the cherry-haired woman never expected Target to save her life.
Charging into the parking lot, she hoped to get into the store before the doors closed. Luckily, although a carriage boy looked at her with a strange expression, the automatic doors opened to her and she fell into a money saving sanctuary. She picked herself up and walked casually towards the bra section, peering around a display of polka-dotted lingerie. The man had followed her! He looked around for her and she felt her heart sink. No associates were nearby, and this late at night, there were no customers. In a store like this, she could not hide, only trap herself.
Hoping he wouldn't hear her, she darted out into a main aisle. He shoes squeaked against the floor and she cursed the evening's rain a thousand times over. Three figures came into view as she neared the food aisles. One, a tall, rather scruffy looking male, a teenage boy, and a little one, around seven years old. If she could only make it to them, play damsel in distress. The man could save her. He looked strong enough to tackle her stalker. She dared not yell for help, in fear of the man having a weapon and using it against innocents.
The man, she assumed him to be the father of the other two boys, was busy looking at different items on sale at an endcap. The little one tugged on his leg for attention and the older boy stood against the racks, legs crossed, looking rather bored.
She was almost there. She could reach out to grab their attention. Just a few more steps and-- a cold hand covered her mouth and took hold of her body. She tried to scream, but her voice was muffled. The little boy was the only one who noticed her and his large blue eyes grew wide.
"Mommy!" he cried.
The woman's attacker dragged her into an aisle two away from the family. She managed to kick over some plates on display. She would pay for them, she decided, as they crashed to the floor and broke.
Nick Bates' attention was torn from the two boxes of cereal he had been comparing to his youngest son, Jamie. The little one had cried out 'mommy' and he looked around frantically for signs of the woman. There was no one. He ran his hands through his slightly long, jagged hair.
"Listen, Jaim, mommy's not here," he said, trying not to hurt the child's feelings.
Jamie screamed, tears threatening to flow. "I saw her! The bad man took her that way!" he shrieked, pointing in the direction the man had taken the red head.
Nick sighed and looked into the aisle. Nothing. His child thrust his arms towards the next one. Still nothing. Just for good measure (and to calm down his boy) , he checked the third one and his eyes nearly bulged out of his head.
"Jesus Christ."
It was the only thing he could utter as he flew towards the graying man with a firm hold on a young lady. She was kicking and flailing, tears streaming down her face. He had heard the plates crash, but thought nothing of it. Now he understood.
He pulled his fist back and then let it fly into the attacker's face. The man lost his grip on the woman and she sagged to the floor, gasping for air. Nick pulled her up, but then pushed her back.
"Grab her, Caleb!" he shouted. The other son, in his mid-teens, appeared in the aisle and pushed the woman behind him. He didn't speak, but an air of protection leaked out of his body.
She didn't see much else, but fists flew and soon her assailant was lying limp on the floor and the handsome father was coming her way. He reached out to her, but before she could thank him, she blacked out.
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Eek, hope that wasn't too bad for midnight writing.
To Be Continued obviously