“Wait… don’t run. I just want to talk to you,” Becca called out. But he wasn’t listening. Becca began to follow, picking up her pace. The man tried running, his pronounced limp slowing him down. Less than half a block later, Becca closed the gap between them, reaching out and touching his arm. The man stopped short, breeching the distance between them in seconds, until they were so close they were almost dancing. The smell of sour whiskey emanated from him.

“I just want to talk to you about Ash,” Becca said gently. A second later, she felt the pressure. Her breath caught as she glanced down at the barrel of a pistol pressing against her abdomen.

The man was smart too. He clearly knew his way around a firearm holding the gun in such a way no one even noticed, the steady hum of tourist activity continuing all around them.

Becca could let him take charge and pray he didn’t lose his cool, or she could do her best to shift the power dynamic. She took an unsteady breath, knowing if this was the wrong play, she was gambling with her life. “Put the gun down,” Becca said, her voice loud and clear, cutting through the noise of the bustling city street. The man hesitated, lifting the gun away for a fraction of a second. She took this opportunity to step back a few feet, eager to put some space between them before he pointed it back at her. She was still in the line of fire though. Freud was barking and whimpering, straining to get closer to Becca. She hated seeing him in distress, but Becca didn’t move. She stood frozen as a costumed Wonder Woman spotted the standoff, and let out a Hitchcock-worthy scream.

“Oh my God, he’s got a gun,” she shouted, before racing down the street, away from danger. More screams rang out, dozens of people following her.

“Now why the fuck you gotta go and do something that stupid?” the man whispered, whiskey on his breath. Becca knew the rules. Always keep your distance. Twenty-one feet or more. It was too late now. The man’s eyes narrowed, his finger hovering over the trigger. One wrong move, one miscalculation, and Becca was dead.

BECCA

BECCA

The autonomic nervous system has two components, the sympathetic nervous system and the parasympathetic nervous system. The sympathetic nervous system functions like a gas pedal in a car, revving the engine and triggering the fight-or-flight response, a burst of energy that courses through the body so it can respond to perceived dangers.