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But right when she moved, his grip released for a split second, only to send another fist smashing against the back of her head.
A cough sputtered from her mouth as she tried to suck in a breath. But before she could, his arm had tightened once again.
A faint taste of metal seeped into the back of her mouth.
Her lungs screamed for air.
She needed to shift her body and pull them both down to the ground. But it suddenly felt like every ounce of energy had been drained from her.
She could feel it.
Her brain was fighting a blackout.
And if he managed to get one more hit like that to the back of her head, the results would be much more than another concussion. Something she might not wake up from.
A dark, fuzzy ring circled her vision, pulsating in and out as she grappled against him.
Then she remembered it.
The knife she’d kept and hidden when they’d first searched her. She’d tucked it into one of her pants pockets the night before when she’d quickly changed before going to Sarah.
The black ring around her vision closed slightly further.
She released one hand from his forearm, reaching down to the zipped pocket on the side of her thigh.
Her fingers just barely grazed the zipper as the metallic taste spread through every inch of her mouth.
A buzzing sound slowly rose in her ears.
She fumbled against the edge of the zipper, barely grabbing it between her index and middle fingers.
Then another blow hit the back of her head. And this one seemed more dull than the previous one, which wasn’t a good sign.
She leaned forward as hard as she could until she could grasp the zipper between her fingers.
She jerked her hand forward, feeling it open.
Her legs grew heavy, the weight of standing and staying upright almost unbearable.
She crammed her hand into the pocket, fingertips grazing against the handle of the knife.
And with her last ounce of effort, she leaned forward again as hard as she could, reaching her hand down.
Her fingers wrapped around the handle of the knife, and she yanked it out.
She threw her elbow back, knocking against him. Then, as she lifted the knife in her hand—
“Hey!”
Suddenly, she felt her body dropping forward, knees slamming into the pavement.
She coughed, gasping for air, lungs engulfed in fire as oxygen flowed into them for the first time in much too long.
As the ringing in her ears slowly subsided, she vaguely became aware of a flurry of voices gathering around her.
She blinked, peering up as her vision slowly came back.
The first thing she saw was Dean on the ground. He laid there, staring straight up at the sky with an eerily calm, blank look.
