Her husband grabbed the hood of her jacket as she ran for the back door.
Not quick enough, she thought as she pulled back her shoulders, and the coat slipped from her arms.
Flinging open the door, she ran down the porch stairs and up the driveway to the front of the house. As she turned the corner, she found her husband coming up from the other side of the house.
He jumped the fence!
Quickly she darted up the porch toward the front door. Please be unlocked, she prayed as she threw herself against it. It was. She slammed the door shut and slid the deadbolt. She was already running to lock the backdoor when she heard her husband banging on the door. Quickly she locked the back one.
Molly!
Sprinting up the stairs two at a time, she burst into her daughter Molly's room.
"Cheryl thinks Brad likes her, but Josh told--"
"Molly, get off the phone."
"In a minute, Mom."
Time...
"Get off the phone NOW!"
Molly looked as if she'd just been slapped.
"I have to go," she said and hung up the receiver.
Grabbing Molly's jacket in one hand and Molly in the other, she pulled her daughter from her room and down the stairs.
She could hear jars breaking in the basement.
He's coming in through the basement window!
Time...
"Mom, what's going--"
"Go to Amy's. Do not come home until I call you. Do you understand?"
"Yes, but--"
"GO! Don't come home until I call!" She shouted as she slammed the front door and locked it. She watched as Molly ran from the porch crying. When she turned around he was upon her.
"Think you're smart, don't ya?" He screamed in her face, enunciating every word with a poke to her chest. She backed away and he shoved her. She fell in between the coffee table and sofa. He straddled her and began choking her. She clawed at his face. She could feel his skin and blood under her nails, but he did not stop. She reached out toward the coffee table and grabbed the heavy clay tray Molly had made in art class. She struck at her husband's head. He stopped choking her.
Gasping, she pulled herself from underneath him. She crawled to the phone and punched in 911.
"911. What is your emergency?"
"My husband just tried to kill me," she rasped. Then she saw a movement and felt a sharp blow to the side of her head. Pretty colors, she thought as she fell over stunned.
She could hear her husband moving through the house. Stay with it, girl! She told herself. He'll be back.
She summoned her strength and looked for the phone. He had ripped it from the wall. Slowly she rose and found she could stand. The pain was immense. She began her way to the front door.
"Oh no you don't!" Her husband came running up to her, his face dripping blood. In his arms was a shotgun.
Time...
Suddenly there was no time. The future became the present. And the present was a vacuum. She could see the molecules in the air. She could hear Sparky barking in the backyard. She knew the cops were surrounding the house. She knew what her husband was planning. She knew dead calm.
As he moved toward her, she headed deeper into the living room.
He came up to her with the gun held across his body. He shoved her with it. She grabbed it, but instead of pulling back to take it from him, she went with it when he pulled back. Surprised, he lost his balance and fell back over the footstool, losing his grip on the gun. There was a sharp crack as his head hit the corner of the heavy glass and wrought iron coffee table. He stared up at her with unseeing eyes.
Time…Time to go.
Slowly she slid back the deadbolt and opened the door.
“I’m here!” She called out.
“I’m here.”