Night Sky (95 page)

Still dazed, it took her a moment to realise what was happening. He had pushed her down on to the bed and had moved his hand away from her mouth. She opened her mouth uncertainly, gathering strength to scream, then froze.
There was something tight on her throat. His hands
… round her neck.
Getting tighter
.

Cold terror gripped her. Then she really started to fight.

She tore at his hands, digging her nails deep into the skin. She kicked with her feet, great wheeling kicks that circled the air. She felt him shift his body over hers, to stop the kicking. She pulled up her knees in a quick movement. She got him in the groin, not very hard, but he pulled back slightly. She arched her back and wriggled sideways on to the floor. His hands loosened slightly as he followed her, then he gripped again, much tighter.

She couldn’t breathe. She tore at his hands again. His hands were the only things that mattered.
His hands
. Then she remembered she
must kick too
. She thrashed her body from side to side, striking out with her feet. She felt something in her stomach – something heavy, squashing her –
a knee
.

She couldn’t breathe
.

Air. She must have
air
. She panicked completely. She kicked out again, wildly, twisting her body round, pushing against something solid, wrenching her hips out from under his knee, lashing out again.
Kick! Kick!

There was a loud
crash!

Then a splintering and breaking sound, followed by a muffled exclamation. The hands round her neck loosened. She opened her eyes. In the pale light she saw him pushing off a darker object – the wardrobe.

She scrabbled away like a crab and made for the window. She heard him get to his feet and start after her. She threw herself at the window and wrestled with the latch. He was almost on her.

She ducked and screamed, really loudly this time. She screamed until he got her firmly by the throat again. This time he squeezed very tight straight away.

This was it. She couldn’t struggle any more
.

Breath, no breath.
G-o-d. Agony
.

Her ears were roaring and singing, her body was screaming …

She felt as if her head would burst …

G-o-d. I’m going to die …

A fog spread over her in a claustrophobic blanket.

Blackness.

Then a vague perception.

Awareness again
.

I don’t understand.

A voice, a movement, the weight lifting off her body. The hands leaving her throat. She drew in great gulps of air, enormous greedy gasps of air, and felt the coolness shoot down into her lungs.

She opened her eyes, bewildered, dazed. There was light, a yellow light from the door.
Someone else. A voice
. A deep voice …

Everything faded for a second. She made an enormous effort and opened her eyes again. A large shape was filling the doorway. Voices.
The black soldier
. ‘Hey … Hey,’ he was saying. ‘What’s happening, little lady?’

Julie blinked and sat up. Giddiness hit her in a wave.

Vasson was crouched, watching the soldier like a hawk.

Julie’s head cleared. She looked from Vasson to the figure in the doorway. Realisation came.
This was her only chance
. She got uncertainly to her feet, her head splitting with pain, and staggered towards the door. Vasson sprang up and grabbed her arm.

Julie shouted at the soldier, ‘Help me!
Help me!
’

The soldier swayed forward a little. Vasson dropped Julie’s arm. The soldier said, ‘Hey! Hey! Let us all cool down now. Hey!’ Julie dimly realised he was still very drunk.

She stumbled to the doorway and began to squeeze past the soldier. He swayed towards her and she caught the whiff of drink. He grasped her hand. ‘Now, why don’t we all relax, hey? What’s the problem, little lady?’

She cried, ‘
Please! He’s trying to kill me!
Please let me go, let me get away.
Please
.’

‘Now, now … Why don’t we all relax, hey?’ He leered at her, his large face inches from hers.

She darted under his arm and staggered across the landing and down the stairs. She tried to run two steps at a time, but tripped and fell against the banisters. She took them singly then, her limbs shaking, her lungs gasping,
begging
for breath.

Faster
, she had to go
faster
.

Third floor—

Above her she heard a voice raised in argument, then silence. Her leg gave way under her. She lurched to one side, grabbed the banister, and pushed herself forward.

Second floor—

She ran on, her legs wobbling terribly, half-listening for other sounds. All she could hear was the hammering of her heart and the rasping of her lungs.

First floor. Just one more. As she raced across the landing and launched herself at the last flight of stairs something caught her eye and she glanced hastily upwards.

Legs. Running legs, beyond the wire mesh of the lift-shaft. Above, but coming fast.

She gave a little cry and hurtled on. She jumped the last step into the lobby. The front door beckoned ahead. She ran for it.

She stopped dead.

No! He’d get her in the street
.

She looked wildly about and darted sideways, past the desk and down a dark passage. On one side, she knew, was the dining room.
Not in there! Nowhere to hide
.

On the other side was the kitchen.
Kitchens had back doors
. Still running, she took a quick look over her shoulder. No-one in sight. She pushed at the kitchen door. It was a swing door and opened easily. She fell in and, panting wildly, spun round to grip the door and close it slowly so it wouldn’t swing back the other way. The door had a circular window in it. She peered through. Nothing.

It was dark in the kitchen but there was a large window along one side and by its pale light she could just make out the lines of the room. There was a large table in the centre. She shuffled round.
There must be a door
. She reached the far corner. A door. She opened it. Cupboard. She closed it again and looked over her shoulder.

God. He’d be here any moment … God
.

She felt her way forward. A recess here … Behind it – a passageway! She stumbled down, the flagstones cold under her bare feet. Yes! A door! She gave a small sigh of relief.

She tried the door. It was locked. She found a key in the lock, turned it and tried again. Still locked. She gulped.
God, please let it open
.

Desperately, she felt the surface of the door with her hand. There must be a bolt. There was one at the bottom. She exhaled in triumph. It slid back quite easily. She tried the door again.

It still wouldn’t move.

She imagined Vasson creeping along the passage towards the kitchen door. She muttered, ‘Please, God,
please
!’

She felt the door again and guessed there must be another bolt right at the top out of her reach. She felt around for something to stand on. There was an object by the door. A fire extinguisher. She put her bare foot on it and, balancing precariously, reached up.

Her hand fell straight on to the top bolt and she tugged at it quickly. It wouldn’t budge. She made another effort and tugged harder. At last it shifted, but slowly, the noise rasping loudly in the stillness. At the same time her foot slipped and she landed heavily on the flagstones. The fire extinguisher clattered over, rolling noisily along the passage.

She wanted to scream.

She held her breath and shivered violently. The extinguisher stopped its roll and there was a terrible silence.

She staggered to her feet, her hands shaking wildly.

She tried the door. This time it opened.

She closed it again and leant against it, trembling.

At the front door Vasson froze, his fingers on the handle.

It had sounded like something falling, a vague clattering. From the back of the hotel somewhere.

He listened for a moment, but apart from the panting of his own breath there was silence.

He decided to check the street anyway. If she’d gone that way he’d still be able to see her.

He threw open the door and darted out. Nothing. No running figure, no moving shadows. Just to be sure, he sprinted to the other side of the street and looked wildly up and down. But she wasn’t there.

The hotel, then.

He ran softly back across the street and into the lobby, closing the door quietly behind him.

There were several doors off the lobby and two passages. Starting on the left he began trying the doors methodically, one by one.

Silence.

Where was he?
When he came for her what would she do? Run?
God, he’d catch her just like that!

She thought for a moment, then made herself creep back towards the kitchen and peer in. The room was empty and quite still. She looked towards the far door. Its round window, faintly lit by the distant lobby light, stared back at her, blank and expressionless.

She forced herself to go right into the kitchen. She crept towards the table and felt along its length. There must be a drawer! There wasn’t.

The hackles on her neck began to rise. He was getting nearer, she felt it …

I can’t stand this!

Along one wall was a dresser. Lots of drawers here. Hurrying now she tried one. Papers, all papers … The next drawer,
better
… Spoons, large ones … Forks …
But no knives
. She fumbled with the last drawer.

Open! Damn you, open!

At last!
… Knives, neither large nor sharp, but
knives
. She picked one up and, looking hastily over her shoulder, started for the back passageway. Something caught her eye. The cooking range. Something
behind
. She stopped.

Knives, lots of them
. Long kitchen knives …

She threw the small knife aside and picked up a long one. She touched it: very sharp.

She looked over her shoulder and darted down the passageway. Weak with relief, she fell against the door. She thought for a moment and deliberately turned the key in the lock – he might come at her from the
outside
.

Then she waited, her fingers round the key.
Ready
.

She leant her head against the door and breathed deeply. Her neck was hurting horribly and her head was stabbing with pain. Worse, her legs were like jelly. She wouldn’t be able to run …

She bit her lip.
Must hold on
.

The silence crept on endlessly.

She couldn’t believe how long it was—

She wanted to fling open the door and
run
. But no. He might be outside … Better to
wait
.

Her shaking fingers slipped off the key. She gripped the key again, more firmly.

The silence was appalling now, pressing in on her,
roaring
.

She jumped.

The sound of a lorry echoed from the distant street.

That was all …

Her heart thudded in her ears. She felt incredibly weak.

She rested her head on the door again.

She stiffened. Was there another sound?

Dear God!
Her heart missed a beat.

Her fingers tightened over the key. She stared up the passageway into the kitchen, peering into the darkness,
listening
…

A faint sound.

From the kitchen
.

Her heart leapt into her mouth. Hastily, she turned the key, then the handle and started to pull the door open.

Something caught her eye. A
dark shadow was racing across the kitchen
.

She gasped and leapt out of the door. She ran, bicycling her legs, pumping her arms, pushing her bare feet painfully against the rough surface. The nightdress flapped around her legs – it was
tight, too tight
, she couldn’t stride out—

She was in an alleyway, very dark. It seemed to have no end—

Suddenly she heard the padding of feet behind her.

She gasped and raced on, faster and faster, pushing until her breath came in great pants.

The footsteps were closer
.

Dear God, give me strength
.

The alley –
where did it go?
It went on for ever; dark and endless!

She stumbled and almost fell. She righted herself and tried to accelerate again.

She could hear his breath now. G-o-d
.

Light, a glimmering of light.

She raced for it, came to a corner, swerved round.

The street. Some way ahead. The ground was rougher now … Suddenly she cried out. A terrible pain in her foot! Something sharp was in her foot! She tried to run on, but the thing was sticking
into
her foot!

She hobbled desperately for a couple of steps.

He was panting up behind her
.

The panic was roaring in her ears. She gave a moan.

He was close now.
Close!

She
wanted
to keep running, to run and run until her heart burst, to run and run –
for ever and ever
.

She let out an animal cry and spun round. She whirled round and faced him. She braced herself, the blood screaming in her ears.
Keep away, keep away from me!

He was still running. He was trying to bring himself up short but his momentum was too great. He was cannoning into her.

She screamed, ‘No!’ And in the split second before he hit her she gripped the handle of the knife in both hands and, with a loud grunt, thrust it forward.

His body hit hers with a thud, carrying her backwards. She fought to keep her balance but staggered under his weight and fell. His body came down on top of her with enormous force, crushing the breath out of her.

His hand was on her neck and she felt an instant of blind terror.

Then his hand fell away and, by the light of the street lamp, she saw his mouth open in a ghastly grimace of pain. With a roar, he rolled off her and lay on his back. He clutched his belly and, raising his head, stared in blank amazement at the blood seeping out from beneath his hands.