Helping Hand.
Long legs lifted and slammed down on the wet concrete—one after the other. The noise from the force smacking against the puddles left an echo in the warm fog that laid low against the pavement. In-between the uneven strides was another sound—more footsteps, the source of the secondary steps closing-in. There was a moment of hesitation. The young woman, the one in the lead, looked around for a place to go—something resembling safety. The echoes creeping up behind her forced her to make a hasty choice and she ran for a street light by the mouth of KittyHawk State Park. She picked up her legs again, now with determination in her gate. It was dark, later than late, and the light up ahead was a beacon of safety. She ran to it, in it, and grabbed her knees as the orange rays poured over her shoulders. Her mouth wide open, she sucked in as much air as her lungs would allow and ignored the sting of the cool air her throat. She swallowed hard, remembering that she'd likely have to move on. She steadied herself up, hunched forward out of exhaustion. Looking out of the light, she found she couldn't see anything. Everything out of the beam was dark and it was then the realization dawned that the light was not at all a semblance of safety. She couldn't see out, but everything could see it. She had walked on a serving platter. A noise from in-front of her sounded like a bird. Then another noise to the left of her was a high pitched squeal. To her right was an owl sound. A sea of noises encompassed her, adding to her confusion and panic. She turned for the state park, the only places the noises seemed to be absent, and ran out of the light and down the long drive.
The footsteps proceeded behind her and the wild calls did not stop. Her heart thumped in her ears and at the tips of her fingers. She had been running for a while and knew at some point the adrenaline was going to leave her exhausted and defenseless. She took an abrupt turn down a trail in the woods and hoped whoever followed wouldn't dare to enter after her.
The bushes beside her shook and she couldn't tell if it was her hitting them or if her pursuers were really that close. Barely able to see, she found herself stumbling over the ground—roots, rocks, she couldn't tell. The loud cry of a monkey echoed from beside her. Knowing that monkeys did not reside anywhere in America left her to veer her course. She lifted her arms to protect her face and braced herself as she entered the woods. The ground was immediately sloped and was littered with crunching leaves and the smell of musty dirt. She quickly came upon a small creek, ankle deep, and followed it by listening to the splashes of her steps. The other noises had stopped, it seemed quiet, but she wouldn't risk pausing when she still had the energy to press on. She came to a wall—poured concrete, and a large storm drain with water steadily pouring out. A yell reverberated in the distance and it was all the convincing needed to climb inside the dark tunnel.
Dark was an understatement. Outside you could see outlines; in here, she couldn't even see her hands. She held both out, palms away from her, blindly reaching about. She found a wall, slick with sludge, and was unsure if she wanted to feel around for anything else. "Helllloooooo!" boomed in the tunnel behind her. She held her breath. Held still and looked back. She couldn't see anything. But the scraping of the ribbed-metal tunnel was undeniably frightening and if they were at the only entrance known to her, she'd have to find another way out—and quickly. She pressed her hand to the wall and pattered hastily through the water. Splashing rippled in the air, not her own, and it could be heard it from all sides of her. She found a split in the tunnels. She looked up, surprised she could see now, and found 6 beams of lights coming from a man-hole cover. Her spirits rose; street lights meant civilization. Civilization meant help. She took the right tunnel and submerged herself back into uncertainty. A light up above sent a shiver of hope over her skin as she neared its source. Another manhole cover and two more directions to venture in. Choosing to go left, she fled, hands still in front, until she came to another manhole cover shining 6 beams down into the murky water. There were no tunnels left to take—dead end. She turned to go back, but hearing the splashing echo off the walls and a steady vibration pounding on them—back didn't seem like such a hot idea.
"Ah, shit." She gasped, holding her head. She looked up at the cover, a good 3 feet above her, and insincerely attempted to reach it; it was too high. Nothing short of a ladder or rope was going to result in progress. She paused her momentary self-doubt session when she heard a wild yell—did they know where she was? Did they find her? She huddled down, tucking her knees into her chest, and sat in the water. What did it matter now? She had stopped moving and her body was heavy and tired. Running back the way she came felt riskier than staying in one place and accepting defeat.
The sound of stones grinding against each other drew her attention from her panic. She looked out on the water and a crescent of light was there—becoming fuller as the sound continued on. She looked up to see the man-hole cover slide over and a silhouette peer over with light shining over its back.
"Oh, it's gotta to suck to be you." He said nonchalantly.
"What?" Perhaps he didn't understand how dire the situation had been.
"Oh, you," he clarified, "They're going to kill you, you know?"
"Huh?" She rolled onto the balls of her feet and stood up. She shielded her face to try and get a look at him.
"It's not that complicated. Did you think clearing house sweepstakes was chasing you to give you a check?" It couldn't be seen, but she could hear the grin on his face.
"Who are you?" Annoyed and on the verge of anger.
"Hmm… I'm sure as hell not you." He laughed. This left her to question his involvement—and sanity.
"Help me up!" She pleaded, stretching her hand up.
He lifted his head and looked around, somewhere out of her view. "What?" He said as if she had asked him to jump on in.
"Save me!" She shouted, looking back down the tunnel to see that it was still empty. But for how long?
"You're joking, right?" Now he was annoyed.
"No, please! You can reach me. Pull me up!" Her desperation leaked out into tears and formed pools across her vision.
"Ah, no," he shook his head, "I'm afraid I can't."
"Wha-Why?" Disbelief.
"Because…"
"Because is not an answer."
"It's my answer." He said, and with that he withdrew from the hole.
She was quiet. Staring wide eyed at the open hole out of reach. It felt like a tease. It was frustrating and maddening to be this close.
"Please, I don't want to die!" She yelled out, knowing her pursuers would hear it. " I… there's nothing here to get me out… you can pull me up-" She waited a moment longer, feeling desperation press upon her anxiety, "Please!"
She was about to enter into hysterics, void of concern for who heard it.
Casually, his head appeared back over the hole, and a smug leer, caught by the light, had followed him. "Look, I would love nothing more than to save you. Honestly… but…" he drew in a deep breath.
"But?" her voice was hoarse.
"It's like with Batman."
"Batman?" Irritation now edging on her tone.
"You know, he saves someone and then they want to know who he is, thank him, and see him again."
She stared up at him. Mouth open. Dumbfounded.
"Well, you know, saving you is the beginning of the dating process," he sounded absolutely convinced of this.
"No." She held her hands out, palms up, and shook them—wishing she could shake him.
"You're going to want to know my name-"
"I don't care about your name." She assured him, but couldn't help feel like he was making her sound like an ass.
"You don't?" "No. I don't." She snapped back.
"That's rather rude. You know, I've been here this whole time and you haven't introduced yourself to me," he shrugged his shoulders and engaged in melodrama, "or asked how I was."
"Are y-" she was besides herself. She was dealing with the reincarnation of the Mad-Hatter. "I'm-ah, SydneyKate."
He nodded, but held his silence.
Reluctantly, "How are you?"
"I'm good, thank you. And you?" He asked cheerily.
"Oh my god, you're fucking crazy." She laced her fingers through her hair and tried to comprehend her situation. "Ok, I told you my name, I asked how you are—help me up!"
"But—"
She abruptly sat herself down; there was no reasoning with him. This was a game. "But?"
"You're going to hug me for saving you."
"No—I am not." Her voice had become monotone and cold. "Then, you'll want to see me again, and I'm not ready for that type of commitment." He explained, still simulating concern.
"Look, I don't want to date you." Reasoning? Reasoning may work.
"I didn't say you did."
"Well, I don't ever want to see you again." She replied, trying to appease his questionable logic.
"Hmm, you're a very harsh woman, Ms. SydneyKate." His smirk had disappeared, and as for the rest of his expression, she couldn't tell if it followed suit.
"Wait, what? You said you didn't want to-" "I can't hear you very well, I think you're yelling." It was somewhere between mocking and chiding. It must have been his best impersonation of an adult.
"What is wrong with you?" She shouted back up at him, glancing down the tunnel to see the elongated shadows of her pursuers against the wall.
"With me? Nothing, I'm up here." He leaned a little ways into the hole. The smirk reappeared and for the first time she could see where his eyes would be if there'd been light. He had a look on his face, one that made her realize he was very much aware of her situation, and didn't half mind the outcome. "Sounds like they're very close." He whispered.
"What do you want from me?!" She screamed.
"Pretty standard stuff; Dinner, tommorrow, 9pm, at the Irish pub two blocks over."
"Are…are you asking me on a date?" Beside herself with frustration.
Just then, a yell bellowed out and it sounded close. Four silhouettes made their way to her dead-end. She backed into the beam of light; unable to see out of it, she was the deer in a proverbial headlight—except it was very much real. She looked up at her tormenter, her expression filled with alarm. She reached her hand up, one last try.
It was then it stuck in her head that he was more than likely one of them… and that trusting him would questionable on her part. Then again, she didn't really trust him in the first place.
He grabbed on edge of the manhole with one hand, leaned in, and grasped her wrist that she'd held out. He partially pulled her "Oh, and don't be late… or I'll have to find you." With that, he gave a somewhat harsh yank and finished pulling her out of her pit of despair. Kneeling on the ground, he pushed the cover back on the manhole and left the four stalkers in the dark as they yelled obscenities—the first words they had said all night besides "hello".
She spilt onto the pavement, catching her breath—or trying to. He got onto his feet and stood over her, looking down and keeping his face from the light. "No hug for the hero?"
"You're a-" she punched the cement, "dick." Yeah, he saved her, but part of her wanted to stay in the hole out of spite.
"Hmm, I guess I can understand shock aiding in your lack of gratitude." And with that he walked off down the street. The more distance that grew between the two of them, the more she became aware of her surroundings; she was under the streetlight she had stopped under, near the state park.
"Tomorrow! You don't want me to come find you!" He yelled from a distance. She stood on her feet and stared at him until he was completely gone from view. "What the hell was that?" she huffed and turned to head home.