Run (4 page)

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Authors: Becky Johnson

BOOK: Run
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On my way home from the diner
, I stopped at the Wachovia to pick up my spending money for the next couple of weeks. As a single woman who likes to buy computers and shoes, I have found that the best way to budget myself is to always use cash. Going two weeks at a time I get out 500 dollars. Mostly because that is the maximum I can get out at my ATM.

Driving in the car from the bank to home I felt lighter than I have felt in over a week. I had done what I could for the girls. I had the best
, most supportive friends. I was financially secure. What could be better? I was headed home when I passed the HomeGoods. There were some muffins I was hoping to make this week that I could use muffin pans for; it didn’t look open but I would just stop for a quick look. I pulled into the shopping center parking lot and parked close to the front of the store. As I had thought, the store was closed. Oh well, I would pick them up tomorrow. I headed back to my car. It wasn’t until I was almost back to my car that the sound of footsteps registered.

Chapter 6: March 28
, 8:20pm – March 29, 3:19 am

I
was turning toward the sound when something heavy hit my back. I went down; my purse and keys fell from my hands.
Get up, get up
. I pushed up but something hit me again. My hands and knees scraped across the ground. An arm wrapped around my neck, pulling me up. I pulled at the arm with hands now wet with my own blood. I had fallen off of bikes, tripped and fallen (I would not call myself incredibly graceful), but the brutality of this attack left me reeling. I barely knew which way was up. Time seemed to go in flashes. Falling … being pulled up, seeing my purse with my keys and cell phone lying on the ground. The arm around my neck tightened. Finally, the words being whispered in my ear started to register.

“Smart girl, figuring out about my babies. I had wondered if anyone ever would. Do you want to know smart girl
?  Do you want to know what they felt, what they went through? Do you want to know, smart girl, exactly what I did? Don’t worry I’ll show you.” His voice was low and sounded … excited. The only thing I could think of in the midst of my panic and pain was Emily.

Some distant instinct made me throw my head back.
I have no idea exactly how I managed it, but somehow it connected solidly with his face. His grip on me loosened and I bolted. I hadn’t gone more than a step before he tackled me down to the ground. I felt his hands on my shoulder and his weight on my back. His voice was angry, shouting words I couldn’t hear over the roaring in my head. Time flashed … his weight, his voice, a rock lying on the ground just a few feet in front of me. Time slowed … his hands shoving at my clothes ceased to exist … my thoughts narrowed in on that rock and getting my hands on it.

His hand fisted in my hair and pulled my head ba
ck. He was laying fully on me. I could barely breathe. His arm came across in front of me wrapping around my throat. Between his weight and the arm, I couldn’t catch a breath. My hands scrambled uselessly at his arm, my feet kicked the ground behind me. My lungs were burning. My vision started to go black around the edges. The rock seemed miles away. I was going to join them, Emily and the girls. This would be it.

His arm loosened. I don’t know why, but it was enough. Enough for me to get air. Enough for my hands still grabbing at his arm to pull it away, my chin to come down, my teeth to sink into his forearm. His yell sounded in my ear. He pulled back. I reached and the rock was in my hand.
My heartbeat echoed in my head. I don’t remember wiggling onto my back, but I remember every second, move by move, of smashing the rock into the side of his ski mask-covered head. He was dazed, but not out. I scrambled backward trying to get out from under him. I swung the rock again, and a third time. He slumped to the side. I was free.

I scrambled to my feet. I expected any second to feel his hand grab my ankle or the back of my neck. My purse with the keys and cell phone were just feet away.

Get to them Char, get to them
.

I scrambled for my keys, dropped them, scrambled again. I was running for my car
just feet away. I heard a noise from behind me and turned to see him struggling to get up … lurching towards me.

The car. My sweaty palm slipped on the handle. He was close
, only feet away. The rock was still in my hand; I threw it, and by some miracle of aim it hit him.
Thank you, God
.

He went
down. I finally made to the car. The door shut behind me. I hit the lock button 5 or 6 times rapidly in a row before I was able to make myself scramble with the key.

Come on,
come on. Start the car
.

My hands were shaking
, my palms sweaty. I looked out the window to see him struggling back to his feet. Finally, the key slid into the ignition and the car started. I have never been happier to have Bertha, a fairly new and reliable car. I floored the gas pedal and the car squealed away. I looked through the rearview mirror to see him make his way to standing.

I turned out of the shopping complex and made an illegal turn to cross the grass median. I got away
… it was 8:23pm.

_______

I drove like a maniac heading down the highway toward my house. My only thought was to get away. I sped; I ran red lights. My brain was static. Somewhere along the way, reason began to break through the static.

Think Char, think
. What did I know? What do I do now?

Ok
ay, one. The killer … the one who took all of those girls just attacked me.

Two. I was not like those other girls. I was older, taller, bigger. I could fight back. I did fight back. He didn’t attack me because I fit his victim preferences. He attacked me because of what I knew.

Three. The only people that knew about that information were the FBI, Tammy, and Kathy. Since I highly doubted that Tammy or Kathy were serial killers, that left the FBI as the only possible connection. I couldn’t trust them.

Four
. He was down, hurt; I had no idea how badly.

Five
. He knew who I was, so he likely knew where I lived.

Six
. I needed to get away and I couldn’t leave my babies behind.

It was 8:29
pm. I had made a fifteen-minute drive in six minutes. It was unlikely he would be able to come straight after me. I had 15 minutes to get what I needed and go.

8:30
. I was in the front door which I locked behind me, obsessively checked the lock, and ran up the steps.

Come on
, Char
. I grabbed a bag from my closet, and threw underwear, socks, bra, a sweatshirt and whatever other clothing was close at hand into the bag. I ran into the bathroom and swiped my supplies off of the counter -- glasses, deodorant, and toothbrush.

Think
, Char, think … what would Jack Bauer do …

I laughed. I was hysterical. 8:34.

I grabbed another bag. Kitchen. Cat food, dog food, granola bars, and an apple I had on my counter went into the bag. I dropped it next to my other bag in the entryway.

Out onto the patio
and into the outdoors storage. Cat carrier. Kitty must have known something was wrong; she never went into her carrier so quickly. Shut the door. Grab the leash. Kitty in her carrier, bags at the top of the steps, and leash on Max. 8:39.

Think
, Char, think.

I stopped. My research. My notes. Into the library
. I grabbed my laptop bag. Both laptops into the bag. Kindle Fire. Bible. Journal. The file I had taken to the FBI just the other day. 8:41

Ok
ay, done. Now for the worst part. If I carried everything out together, I would be weighed down and unable to defend myself. If I took a couple trips it would take me longer. At this point, I just wanted to get out. I wanted to feel safe.

I loaded myself up
with bags over my shoulder, carrier in one hand and leash in the other. My purse was still in the car; I was good. I made it down the stairs to the front door. This was it. I was frozen … terrified. Max bumped my leg. He was focused, serious. Like he knew something was wrong, he was there by my side. He could be fairly ferocious.
Okay, here goes
.

Once I stepped out
side that door I was panicked. I could feel him closing in on me. My car was close, my keys in my hand. I would be fine … right. Every shadow seemed ready to jump out at me. Every noise seemed to be him coming back.

I got to the car, ope
ned the door, and put everything in. Kitty let out a pathetic meow as her carrier was jostled and I jumped about 10 feet. I put Kitty and my bags into the back seat. Max went to get in the car, but I kept him with me. I felt safer with him next to me. I rounded the car, my eyes trying to look everywhere at once. I got to the driver’s door. Door open … Max and I got in, just about in unison. Door shut. My finger went on its panic lock mode, where I must have locked that door at least a dozen times. Car started and off. It was 8:47.

______

Turn right on Route 38. Light was green, go straight. Red light, turn right. Straight. Light is green, turn left.

I was driving by ro
te. I wasn’t thinking, all I wanted was to get away. I kept checking my rearview mirror, making random turns. My mind was static. My hands throbbed. My body ached. I felt like crying, but no tears came.

After driving for over half an hour
, I finally felt safe to pull over. I hadn’t seen any cars behind me. I hadn’t seen any cars at all for the last five minutes. I checked that the door was locked and pulled over where the road was widest.

Once stopped
, I checked that the doors were locked again. I turned off the engine and rested my head on the steering wheel.

Think Char, focus.

Okay, what exactly had happened? I was attacked. The man that attacked me indicated that he had killed the other girls. He knew I knew there was a serial killer. I wasn’t his normal victim, so he wasn’t after me because I fit his criteria. He was after me because I figured something out. I was not entirely sure what it was that I had figured out. The only people I had told were close friends and the FBI. So somehow he knew that I knew. It wasn’t my friends, so it had to be someone at the FBI. Someone in that office was a killer and someone in that office was after me.

Think Char, think.

Okay. Someone with the resources of the FBI was after me. They could access my bank account. They could track my phone. I needed to give myself some space. I needed to hide until I could figure out my next move. That meant I had to keep him from finding me.

In a panic
, I reached for my purse, my phone, my phone was on. They could track me. I pulled the phone out and I turned it off. Then, just to be on the safe side, I removed the battery and SIM card.
Think, what else do you have with you?
I had my laptops and my Kindle Fire. I didn’t think either could be traced, but they were both off anyway.

Ok
ay, no way he could track me. Unless, had he been tracking me already? Maybe he knew where I was right now. I needed to move. I also needed money. I had $500 but I would need more and anytime I used an ATM or credit card, I could be traced. I needed to get to an ATM machine and get everything I could out. I also needed to check what I had with me and make sure I had enough supplies to last me for a little while. I started my car and headed out. I figured I was headed east. I needed to go back to the highway and find a store. It was 9:36.

_______

I found my way back to Route 38. I knew back to the west I could find a Wal-Mart and a bank. I could get money out of the bank through my credit card, and after midnight I could get another $500 with my debit card. I could get pretty much everything I needed at the Wal-Mart. If I used my debit card and my credit card in the same area and then didn’t use them again, he may be able to find out where I had been, but not where I was going. Plus, if I used my debit card to make a purchase, I might be able to get more cash.

Ok
ay, okay, Char. You have a plan now. You can make it.

I had gone much
farther east than I anticipated and it took me a while to get to the shopping center with the Wal-Mart. It was 10:25 before I pulled into the shopping center parking lot. If I checked out from Wal-Mart close to midnight and then went to the ATM right after midnight, there would not be enough time for anyone to track me and get to me before I was gone again.

I parked near the front entrance of the
Wal-Mart. Before I went in, I needed to clean up and to figure out what exactly I was getting. Double-checking for about the 50
th
time that the door was locked, I turned off the car and climbed over the front seat to settle in the middle seat with my first-aid kit. I have never been so happy that I am clumsy and have a first class first-aid kit in my car.

It took me several we
t wipes just to clean the blood off of my hands. The cuts on my hands were too numerous for Band-Aids, so I cleaned them as much as possible and then put Band-Aids on the few that were the worst. I used another wet wipe to clean my face and wipe at the dirt on my knees. Checking myself out in the mirror I had recovered from my purse, I figured I was as good as I was going to get. Time to figure out what exactly I had managed to grab in my mad scramble from the house.

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