Something spoke up from the depths of her brain, breaking her paralysis as he sank to the floor, left hand against his midsection. Something was wrong with his right arm; blood dripped onto the floor from his dangling fingers. Run, damn it! But she couldn’t run; he blocked the hallway and her only way out. She let out an involuntary cry, and limped backward until her body was pressed against the railing. Time seemed to slow down to a series of freeze-frame pictures as she watched him rock back and forth, holding his stomach with his left hand, eyes squeezed tightly shut, until nothing existed except her harsh gasps of breath and the movements of the man.

Finally, she turned and looked over into the living room, because he was getting up, and she had to do something. The couch lay directly below her, and she swung one leg over the edge before she knew what she was doing, twisting her body until her raw and tender stomach pressed against the railing and her feet dangled down over the drop. She let herself slip down the rough wood, feeling the wall with her legs and knees, refusing to look down because to do that would surely cause her to lose her nerve, even though she could see the man reaching for his knife now, even though he was turning to stare at her with something more than hatred in his eyes.

She took a deep breath, and let go as he lunged for her.

For a second, she fell and then her feet hit the couch and she buckled and shrieked from the pain, her broken ankle twisting among the cushions as she fell sideways and off the edge of the couch to the floor. Her head hit hard and she saw nothing but blackness for a long moment before retching in great, gasping heaves. Her leg was on fire.

Then she heard him coming for her and she pulled herself to her feet somehow, her ankle screaming under the pressure. The door seemed to be a mile away. She heard him thudding back through the hall upstairs, and knew she only had a few precious seconds.

The Jeep, get to the Jeep, her mind screamed. She tried to take a step and her broken leg buckled again underneath her, sending her tumbling to the floor. “Get up,” she heard herself whisper in a cracked and trembling voice, and wondered if she were finally losing her mind. After all this, it comes down to right here right now. Do you have what it takes or are you just going to give up? Come on, move!