Disclaimer: I own the plot, "Romy", and "Them". I do not own either Numb3rs or Criminal Minds.
"Get back here, you bitch!"
She stumbled over the long legs of the jeans. The bottoms of them had been reduced to shreds, barely covering her bare feet that were move than likely, bleeding by then. The once black t-shirt that had fit her frame closely, but now hung upon her emaciated skeleton like a damp, grey rag. There were ugly bruises on her arms ranging from the new blackish purple to the healing stomach-acid yellow.
The skin was too discoloured to show the cuts and scabs.
Pain tore through her already tensed nerves every time she moved. A bullet grazed her hand. She ducked reflexively, although a part of her realized this wouldn't do any good if the gunman was aiming for her legs.
Finding herself on the campus of a college, she ran to the closest building. If she was lucky maybe she could hide in a trash can or in a closet.
Leaping up the steps like some kind of gazelle, she stumbled at the top when another bullet tore a hole in the jeans close to her knee. She winced out of reflex and continued running. The animal instincts were on the wire; her hair was raised and her muscles were ready to snap from being so tensed.
She practically flew into the hallway of the large college. Her feet carried her to the closest open classroom. The light was on; maybe the professor's presence would scare the pursuer away. That hope fled as soon as she stepped inside.
The room was completely empty of any living being.
A door slammed somewhere nearby; too nearby. She dove under the teacher's desk and positioned herself so she was braced against the wood. There was no visible sign that she was there at all.
The light turned off and the door was shut. She ignored the voices and just concentrated on keeping her breathing as slow and quiet as possible. The bolt-lock slid into place. She didn't relax yet. She couldn't let herself relax. Something was going to happen and if she relaxed she wouldn't be prepared. She couldn't get this far only to get herself caught again.
When she finally thought maybe she could relax a little bit, the light coming in from the window of the door changed. She could see the silhouette of a head looking in at her; it was desperately trying to find her. Like a beast hunting for food, it wasn't going to give up on the search for her. It would look for her until it found her.
Then she would never have the opportunity to escape from it ever again.
The head moved; it was going to search the other rooms for its little prey.
She relaxed the taut muscles until she was lying on the floor under the desk. It was going to be her little sanctuary until she was sure she was safe. Then she would leave and make a break for it again.
Until then, she would just relax.
Relax…