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I continue to wait for Tawk, but when the temperature drops lower and the sky darkens to black, I start to really worry.
Something awful must have happened to him, he would never leave me here like this. My uncle would be furious if he knew I was in town by myself at such a late hour.
The bar a few doors away from where I'm sitting starts to liven up, and I watch the lights go off in the shop across the street. The young guy I noticed earlier, and a bald man covered in tattoos, both leave on their bikes, riding off in the direction of their clubhouse.
I wrap my arms around myself, trying to create some warmth, and wonder if maybe I should start walking back toward the village. But if I arrive home without Tawk he’ll be in trouble for leaving me alone, and I don’t want that, especially since he’s done me a favor.
“Don’t. Please don’t.” I hear a desperate voice come from behind me. “Please…” the voice deepens to a dull, painful cry. Curiosity raises me onto my feet, urging me to follow the sound of the moans.
There’s a narrow alley that runs between the bar and a deli shop and I continue to follow the agonized noises, despite the danger I could be bringing upon myself.
I step out the safety of the street light, deeper into the dark alley. There’s light at the other end, and I realize it leads to a small parking lot behind the buildings. The trash cans overspill and empty barrels stack high against the wall, and I remain hidden under the shadow of darkness when I eventually see the cause of all the noise.
There’s a man on the floor, his face too bloody and battered to distinguish. I’m about to run to get him some help, but then a dark figure steps into the light, standing over the broken body and makes me freeze with fear.
It's a man, I can tell by the wide shoulders and thick torso, and I figure the only way to help the injured man is to run in the opposite direction for help. Just before I find the courage to move, the standing man crouches over the body on the floor. He lifts the injured man’s head off the ground, slamming it back hard into the concrete, and the cracking sound makes my eyes squeeze shut.
I count to three and force myself to open them up again. This man really needs my help. When I try to move, my feet anchor to the ground from fear, and I’m forced to watch the wicked man repeat his assault. Slamming the man’s skull into the ground until his body gives up its fight and goes floppy.
I turn to run, and immediately my body collides with one of the trash cans. The sound of crashing metal echoes loud around me, and I automatically cry out when I stumble and fall to my knees. Damp, rotten garbage squelches between my fingers, and I squirm as I try desperately to get off the ground.
I’m too scared to look behind me and see if I’ve been noticed, and somehow I manage to scurry back up on my feet. My heart wedges inside my throat when I hear fast-paced footsteps closing in behind me, picking up their speed as I fumble through the darkness toward the street light.
Strong hands snatch at my waist, forcefully dragging me backward and making me scream wildly. I’m instantly silenced by the gloved hand that slams over my mouth and almost throw up when I taste the blood on them.
My attacker spins my body, slamming my shoulders into the rough brick wall, and I come face to mask with the cold-blooded killer. He breathes heavily through the air holes of his black mask, his head tilting hauntingly as he takes the time to assess me. All I can see through the mask covering his face are dark pupils peering into mine.
He must sense that I’m too terrified to make a sound, because slowly he slides his hand from my mouth, allowing me to breathe. Sucking in a huge gulp of air, I squeeze my eyes shut tight when I feel my bladder start to slowly trickle empty, soaking myself through my jeans as fearful tears spill over my cheeks.
I should never have left the reservation.
The man lowers his head to the soaked patch between my legs, and a sticky gloved finger presses tight into my lips, forcing that taste upon me again.
I swear his eyes smile at me from behind the mask, like he’s satisfied with my reaction.
“Shaniya!” I hear my name. Maybe the voice belongs to my mother, and I’ve somehow skipped the pain part of death.
“Shaniya!” the voice comes again, only louder, and my head twists toward the top of the alley where it comes from.
“Shaniya.” The man in front of me whispers my name slowly, drawing the knife from his belt, and teasing it across my throat. I close my eyes again, and shiver.
“Shaniya.” The sound of my name being called gets even closer, but I'm too afraid to open my eyes.
“Spill these lips to anyone about what you saw,” he replaces his finger with the blade, “I will find you and I will gut you like an animal. Nod if you understand.”
I automatically nod my head for him, more tears pouring out of my eyes.
The air around me rapidly loosens, at the same time the pressure of the blade vanishes from my skin.
I’m able to breathe again, and when I’m brave enough to snap my eyes open, the man is gone. I hear the screech of tires and reach for my throat expecting to feel blood, but there’s nothing, my hands appear clean.
I’m not cut. I’m still alive, and I run as fast as I can in the direction of the voice that calls me. Stumbling into Tawk’s strong arms as I race out of the alley.
“Shaniya.” He sounds relieved at first, then the expression changes on his face. “What’s happened? Did someone hurt you?” Any concern he has quickly changes to anger, and I manage to pull him back before he takes off down the alley toward the danger.
“Please take me home,” I plead with him through my sobs, looking around to check no one is coming for me.
“Are you bleeding? What happened to you?” He holds me firm, trying his best to ground me with eye contact.
