Endurance

Deb beelined for the closet, her bare knees beating a painful staccato against the hardwood floor. Teddy slid out from under the bed, pushing himself along on his belly, cutting off her route. Then he headed for her, efficiently dragging himself forward in a serpentine manner, like a fish swimming on land.

Deb spun around, scurrying past as his hand reached out. His fingers brushed her thigh, but he couldn’t grab on. She frantically tried to figure out where to go next. The closet was blocked. So was the hallway. And Teddy was slithering toward her at a quick clip, a grotesque, hairy snake.

The bathroom? Go for the knife?

No. I’d be trapped in there.

So what the hell can I do?

My Cheetahs. He took them.

Maybe they’re under the bed.

She grabbed the post, sliding under the bed, immediately seeing the displaced boards and the hole in the floor. Teddy was reaching for her again, fingers grazing her stump. She caught a quick glimpse of his wide, brown grin, and then Deb pulled herself, face-first, through the trap-door.

Then she was falling—a sick, familiar feeling that was worse than any pain in the world. Her fear was short- lived, and she quickly banged her arms and head into a recessed floor, only a few feet lower than the one she’d just fallen from. Trying to catch her breath, Deb squinted at her surroundings.

I’m in a crawlspace between the first and second levels.

A few yards away was a dim, flickering light.

A candle.

Deb felt around, finding one of her Cheetahs, then the other, and then Teddy was dropping through the trap- door, landing next to Deb with a huge thump.

She swung her prosthetic like a scythe, hard as she could, trying to catch Teddy’s face with the blade edge. The blow hit home, the leg vibrating in Deb’s hands. Teddy howled, covering up his head. She followed up with two more strikes, trying to pound his face into hamburger. But the Cheetahs were lightweight, not much heft to them, causing only superficial injuries.

Tucking the legs under her arm, Deb crawled toward the candle. It was awkward, and she had to switch from crawling to a sideways shuffle. She sucked in dust and cobwebs, trying to avoid banging her head on various support posts.

Teddy began to chuckle. “Oooo, y’all gonna pay for hittin’ me, little girl. Y’all gonna pay dearly.”

Deb reached the candle and smacked her palm on top, snuffing out the flame. The blackness was stifling, and the enormity of her situation hit her like a sledgehammer.

I’m trapped in a dark crawlspace with a psychotic freak.

She began to hyperventilate, unable to get enough oxygen. That led to wheezing.

I’m too loud. He’ll find me.

Deb clamped a hand over her mouth, trying to silence herself. When she was sure she wouldn’t pass out, she scooted away from her position, moving quietly. It was slow going. She didn’t want to bump into anything, or make the floor creak.

After she got some distance between herself and the candle, she began to put on her Cheetahs. Even though her hands were shaking, her years of competing in races paid off and Deb was able to get them on in less than thirty seconds.

Now I need to find an exit.

Deb raised her hands up over her head, feeling above her. She found a beam, and began to follow it along its length, crawling as silently as she could.

“Where you goin’, Debbie?”

Teddy was close. Very close. To her right. Deb paused, holding her breath, listening for movement.

She didn’t hear anything.

He’s either sitting still, moving toward me, or moving away from me.

So what’s my best option?

Keep going. Don’t wait for him to find me.

Deb softly blew out her breath, then continued her trek.

“I get it. Y’all wanna play a game.” Teddy had gotten even closer. Almost near enough to reach out and touch. “A little hide ‘n seek.”

She moved faster, feeling a sob well up in her chest.

I can’t cry. I need to stay quiet.

“I looooove games, girly girly.”

She froze.

Oh, sweet Jesus, he’s right in front of me.

“I know all sorts of games. ‘Cept I never played none of ‘em with a cripple before. You got no legs, just like me. I won’t even gotta tie you up to make babies.”

He got even nearer. She couldn’t see him, but she could sense his mass, feel his body heat.

Can he sense me as well?

“Maybe Momma will even let us get married. She’ll make us a big ol’ wedding cake.”

He’s so close.

Deb could actually feel his warm breath. It washed across her face like a foul summer wind blowing across a garbage dump. She tilted away, turning her head, crazy with fear that the floor would creak and he’d find her.

I can’t see him. That means he can’t see me. Stay calm.

“Will y’all marry me, Debbie girl?”

Teddy was close enough to kiss. He had to know she was there. Sweat rolled down Deb’s forehead, stinging her eyes. She closed them, willing, praying, for Teddy to go away.

“Teddy and Debbie, sittin’ in a tree. K...... I...... S...... S...... I...... N…...”

Deb lashed out before he could say G, making her hand into a claw and raking her hundred dollar manicure across his face. He screeched, and she scampered past him, crawling as fast as she could. She smacked her forehead into a joist, didn’t stop to assess the damage, and continued hurrying until she felt a cool breeze. Air flow potentially meant an exit. Deb paused, trying to sense its direction, and adjusted her course.

“The wedding is off, bitch!”

He was right behind her again. Deb plowed ahead, reaching a wall. She tried to go left, then right. Each way was blocked off.

Dead end. I’m dead. I...

Then her hand touched something solid and familiar.

A ladder rung. This is a ladder.

Ladders were Deb’s nemesis, and a large part of the reason she never tried to mountain climb again. If she couldn’t take ten vertical steps, how was she supposed to scale a sheer cliff face?

Previous ladder experiences—even with small step ladders—tended to end badly. And out of all her prosthetics, the Cheetah’s were the most ill-suited for ladders. The backwards curve meant she had to push her legs out behind her to take a step, which was awkward and threw off her balance.

“Gotcha!”

Teddy grabbed her around the thigh. His grip was iron, and his fingers palpated her quadriceps, stroking intimately.

Deb screamed, bringing her arm forward, then jamming her elbow back. It connected with his face.

Teddy grunted, releasing his grip. Deb kicked out backwards, felt her Cheetah bounce off of him. He knocked her prosthetic aside, so hard it almost came off.

He’s too fast. Too strong. There’s no place to escape.

I need to try the ladder.

Using only her upper body, Deb lifted herself up the first four steps. The darkness was absolute, and she had to work by feel. Grabbing a rung with both hands, she did a chin up. Then, holding it with one arm, she stretched up her other arm for the next rung.

Pull.

Reach.