past a white van parked on the side I called to Emma, who was ahead of me, to wait before she crossed the next road.
Focused on making sure she'd stopped, I barely noticed the van's side door opening. As I passed by I caught a flash of a large body wearing black clothes and a ski mask lunging at me. My ankle twisted as I sidestepped and my foot came down on some loose gravel. I hit the sidewalk hard, biting my tongue as my chin connected and scraping my hands on the rough pavement.
As I struggled to get up, a hand grabbed my ankle and began to drag me back. I clawed at the pavement while trying to yank my leg free. For a moment I was let go and got to my knees, ready to run. Then a large hand slapped over my mouth and an arm circled around my rib cage, lifting me up and slamming me back against a solid torso. The hand over my mouth pressed my head into a shoulder while the arm squeezed the air out of my chest. The body began to move backward. My heels dragged on the pavement. Emma raced down the road barking.
I wanted to scream, wanted to fight, but I was paralyzed with fear. All I could see was The Freak smiling, all I could feel was his gun pressing into my back.
We were at the van. The man shifted his weight to one leg and gripped me tighter like he was about to step up. I remembered The Freak closing the door on me, crossing around the front, getting in--
I bit the hand covering my mouth and kicked back with my legs. Heard a grunt. I jammed elbows in wherever I could, slammed up into what I thought was a chin. I was shoved so hard I sprawled and landed on the hard edge of the curb, hitting my temple. It hurt like hell, but I rolled onto my back. As the guy reached for me, I started screaming as loud as I could and managed to land a kick in his stomach. He groaned but kept trying to grab me.
I rolled from side to side, punching at his arms and yelling, 'HELP! SOMEONE HELP!'
I heard growling and barking. The man stood back up.
Emma had hold of his leg, and he was kicking at her.
'YOU DON'T TOUCH MY DOG, MOTHER-FUCKER!'
Still on the ground, I braced with my elbows and kicked him hard in the groin. Doubled over, he stumbled backward, groaning and gasping for air, then fell to his knees.
On my left a woman screamed, 'Leave her alone!'
The man staggered to his feet and tried to get past me to the van but Emma still had hold of his pants. I grabbed the other leg. He shook both of us free and climbed in. Emma narrowly got out of the way as it took off down the road, tires squealing. I tried to see its license plate, but my eyes wouldn't focus and it was moving fast.
My breath sounded like I was strangling. I eased up onto my knees and looked over my shoulder. I could just make out my neighbor from across the street running toward us with a phone in her hands. My vision blurred and I collapsed back to the sidewalk.
'Is she okay?'
'The police are on their way.'
'Oh, my God, what happened?'
I wanted to answer the voices but my body was shaking uncontrollably, my breath came in quick hard pants, and I still couldn't see clearly. Emma's fur brushed against my cheek and her warm tongue licked my face. Someone pulled her away, then a woman's voice said, 'Can you tell me your name?'
'Annie. My name's Annie.'
'Okay, Annie, help is on the way, just hang in there.'
Sirens. Uniforms. Somebody put a blanket over me. I answered questions in fragments.
'A man...black clothes...white van.'
More sirens, then the uniforms changed.
'Where does it hurt, Annie?'
'Try to take some deep breaths.'
'We're going to stabilize your neck.'
'Can you tell us your birth date?'
Hands on my body. Fingers on my wrist. Numbers shouted out. As I was placed on a stretcher and strapped on, I recognized a voice.
'She's my niece, let me in.' Then my aunt's concerned face looked down at me. I grabbed her hand and burst into tears.
Aunt Val rode with me to the hospital.
'Annie, you're going to be okay. Mark's calling your mom so she can meet us at the hospital--he's taking Emma to our house.' I don't remember much after that, just the feeling of going fast and her hand in mine.
At the hospital I started hyperventilating again--too many people yelling, babies crying, bright lights, nurses asking questions--so they put me in an observation room to wait for the doctor, but I could still see cops talking to the nurses and my aunt in the hallway.
I started counting ceiling tiles. A nurse came in and made me squeeze her hand, then took my blood pressure and checked my pupils. I kept counting.
When the doctor finally arrived and asked all the same questions again, I still kept counting. When they took me for X-rays I counted the machines. When they brought me back to the room and the cops came in with their questions--what was the man wearing, how tall was he, what make was the van--I counted faster. But when a large male nurse came in and suddenly reached for my arm, I started screaming.
Everyone was told to leave the room. The doctor ordered a nurse to get the Crisis Response Team 'down here right away.' I closed my eyes and counted the beats of my racing heart while they talked over me. Someone gave me a shot. More talk, I didn't follow it. Fingers pressed to my wrist, counting my pulse. I counted along.
I heard heels running down the hall, then Mom's voice, but I checked out.
When I opened my eyes, Mom and Aunt Val were at the window with their backs to me, talking low.
'Mark was driving me to get my lab tests and we saw the crowd. She was just lying there....' My aunt shook her head. 'I had to fight to get close to her. The press was there in minutes, must have followed the ambulance. Just look at them all out there now.'
Mom said, 'What did you tell them?'
'The press? I didn't tell them anything, I was more concerned about Annie, but Mark may have answered a few questions.'
'Mark?' Mom sighed. 'Val, you have to be careful what you say to those people. You never know how--'
I cleared my throat and they turned to look at me. I started crying.
Mom rushed over and put her arms around me. I sobbed into her shoulder.
'I was so scared, Mom, so scared.'
By the time the doctor came back I'd calmed down. It helped to find out I didn't have any broken bones but did have assorted bruises, cuts, and scrapes, not to mention a killer headache. I'd gone into shock from a combination of pain and terror. No shit.
Their main concern was possible head injury from the blow to my temple, so they wanted to keep me overnight. The Crisis Response Team also wanted to assess me again in the morning. Through the night a nurse came in every couple of hours to wake me in case of concussion, but I was usually up anyway, tensing every time footsteps came down the hall, jerking at every loud noise. Sometimes I just stared at Mom's tiny sleeping form on the cot beside me and counted her breaths.
My last stint in the hospital taught me being difficult just earned you a longer stay, so I played along when the Crisis Response Team came in to assess my emotional stability the next morning. They mostly wanted to know what kind of support system I had waiting for me when I got out. I told them I was seeing a shrink regularly and they gave me some crisis hotline phone numbers and a list of support groups.
They decided I was stable enough to talk to the cops, so I filled them in as best as I could--no, I didn't see his face, no, I didn't get a license plate, no, I don't know why the fuck some asshole tried to grab me.
I'd thought they would set up some around-the-clock stake-outs, but the most they could promise was some drive-bys and a special alarm installed to ring direct to the station. They reminded me to take my cell phone
