Prologue
Her hair was stuck in her eyes.
She wanted to get it out, to be able to see properly, see where she was running, but she didn't have time. She was clasping her hand to her chest, trying not to feel the pain, trying to repress it; to focus all on running, on fleeing.
She didn't want to use that which was strapped to her hip. She wasn't sure she had the strength, not with every step draining her body of energy, with the blood slowly leaving her, exhausting her. She knew she had the will.
She just hoped it'd be enough.
She rounded a corner, bumped into a wall, gave a muffled cry as her hand radiated fire up her arm, the pain numbing her senses. It was already dark, the snow making her feet slip, the walls covered in dirt and frost.
She couldn't feel her legs.
Tired. So tired. Cold. Had it started snowing? Raining? Was it the sweat in her eyes or just the rain?
And she slipped, and she fell, again, the ground knocking the air from her lungs. And her hand made her scream, gasping for breath, with her good hand clasping the knife at her side.
And then he was there, yanking her up from the ground, holding her up by the neck, running her hair through his fingers. He put his face close to hers, and she could feel the breath on her face, the cold touch of the tip of his nose against her chin.
"Why are you trying to run from me?" he asked, in a quiet whisper. "You can never run from me. I will always find you. I will always feel you, always smell you, always be one step behind you. Wherever you go I will be your shadow. Whenever the sun goes down you will hear me singing to you in the dark. Why try running from me when you already know you will never be able to escape me?" He squeezed her damaged hand and pressed his mouth against hers to muffle the scream.
And she rammed the knife into his stomach.