[Revised]

Zara yelped as she accidentally stepped into a grungy puddle, which splattered her jeans with gunk. It seeped through the fabric. Numbing cold penetrated her skin, making her tremble like a leaf. A warm shower sounded pretty inviting just about then—too bad the shower-head back at home only blasted ice-cold water.

She reached into her pocket and ran her thumb along the roll of bills. Almost immediately, she pulled her hand back out. Then shoved it back in, to double-check that the money was still there and hadn't disappeared. A grand total of nine hundred and fifty dollars. Counted and recounted. It had been a while since Zara had such a hefty amount in her possession, and it felt good. After paying her bills tomorrow, she would take that well-deserved shower. It was worth it, to the very last penny.

The thought sent a slight jolt of adrenaline through her, and Zara incremented her pace. She briskly turned a corner onto a new block.

Despite everything, she couldn't ignore what had happened between her and Saffron. Apologising to the other two had been easier than she had thought—they had woken up as sprightly as ever, putting the night behind them like a bad dream—but with Saffron, it was another story. He tried apologising time and time again, and when Zara didn't want to hear any of it, resorted to a broken gaze and fleeting touches.

Not only had Zara been obligated to make the journey to the pawn shop on foot, but had almost gotten thrown out of it when her irritation surfaced onto her interaction with the owner. It was hard to think logically when Saffron was breathing down her neck half the time, but the worst part was that he wasn't even aware of his actions. She would need some time before she forgave him, but in the meantime, she would concentrate on other, more important things. Like getting her ass home.

The metal tinkle of a tin-can rolling across the pavement instantly averted her senses. Warning signals flashed red in her mind. Zara forced herself not to turn around and kept her eyes on the pavement. It's a stray cat, she told herself, no big deal.

Somewhere, a window slammed shut. She shrank into herself, like a turtle into its shell.

I'm just being paranoid.

She started to hum. It would distract her from her surroundings, from the empty, eerie-looking streets. She thought about Simon, her grandfather. Zara imagined him waiting back at home, in the kitchen, perched on the edge of his wooden stool. His eyes would be glued to the clock, watching the second hand complete its millionth round. All because he cared.

He may not have been perfect, but she would pick him over any of those wretched foster homes any day. Zara didn't deserve to be treated like an animal, nobody did. Her eyes glazed over as her mind became entangled with ugly memories. Her thoughts slowed her pace down.

That's when she heard the footsteps.

Zara snapped out of her trance and furrowed her eyebrows. She concentrated on the sound as she scanned the area. It was empty. There wasn't a living soul in that neighbourhood beside Zara.

Either I'm hearing things or...

There it was again. A loud squelching, the kind you hear when you're wearing water-filled sneakers. It obviously didn't come from her. Her boots, although damp, made a dry slapping sound with every step she took. The contrast was very clear.

At the end of the street, Zara took a sharp left. She hoped that it was simply a coincidence and that this person simply happened to be traveling in the same direction as her. Another road was crossed, another corner was turned. The footsteps were still there, steady, unhurried.

Zara's breaths matched her quickening pace. She was being followed. It was beyond any shadow of a doubt.

This can't be happening to me.

She had to appear normal; whoever it was had to be fooled into believing that she was still unaware of their presence. But her palms were clammy with sweat, and her legs felt like blocks of lead underneath her. Could they see that? Did they know that she knew? Her head spun—she didn't know what was right or wrong.

Zara slowed her pace—which until then had been almost frantic—and pulled a band from her wrist. She pushed her hood back and looped it around her hair. Once. Twice.

Whoever was following her didn't have any good intentions. They would soon find out that neither would she if they didn't stop pursuing her. She pulled her hood back up, all five senses awake now. Her headache slipped away into nothingness as her heart began to thump loudly against her breast.

The footsteps soon became louder and more purposeful. The predator wasn't satisfied with simply lurking anymore. It was ready to strike. She had about half a second to get away.

Shit.

Zara broke into a run.

Her surroundings blurred around her, a haze of colours and sparks of light. The dry, cold air slapped her cheeks and stung her eyes, which she wiped with her sleeve. Her legs propelled her across a dimly-lit road, and back into the cover of the night. The attacker bounded after her, nipping at her heels; he was fast, very fast, but Zara was faster.

She leapt over a chain-link fence, hoping that the obstacle was a deterrent. Moments later, she heard the same metallic rustling that had followed her own stunt. Her face scrunched up in exasperation.

I can't keep this up.

She couldn't be the only one. A heavy panting behind her confirmed that notion.Zara turned her head for a micro-second to judge the distance between her and the attacker. He was a good 5 feet away—a click. A glint revealed a gun, its barrel pointed straight at her head.

No more staying out in the open, or he would kill her.

She turned a corner abruptly, barely making it over a row trashcans. A heavy shove and Zara sent them flying; they crashed loudly against each other and the side of a building, regurgitating their contents across the pavement. Hoping that it would stall him, Zara turned yet another corner, ducking into a pitch-black alleyway.

Zara slowed into a light jog, then stopped completely in the face of a brick wall. Trapped. She buckled over, her breathing suddenly overwhelming. She couldn't think, couldn't swallow.

It was all too much, Zara felt hopeless.

Her eyes darted around, frantically searching for somewhere to hide, or a way out. Nothing. Everywhere she looked was a dead end. The only exit was the entrance, but that wasn't an option.

Please, if you're watching over me now, help out of this.

Just as she was about to give up, her eyes landed on a fire escape.

Bingo.

The ladder was swung upwards, its lowest rung a good ten feet off the ground—Zara couldn't just reach up and grab onto it. Or jump, for that matter. She would need to use something as stepping block.

Zara rolled up her sleeves and rushed to one of the dumpsters lining the wall. She swung the lid shut and scrambled on top. It crumpled slightly from her weight, but it was relatively sturdy. She looked up. The ladder was suspended right above her head.

Zara had one shot at this and one shot only. If she failed, it was over.

A couple of quick, sharp breaths to give her courage.

Zara crouched down and flung herself upwards.

Her hands latched onto the metal rod with a loud clang. She groaned. The strain on her arms was unnatural, but by sheer force of will, she swung her body upwards and slipped a leg through the gap between rungs.

A second to catch her breath, and she sat up, using her upper body strength to pull her leg out and rest both onto the ladder.

The silence was deafening as she waited with bated breath. Her knuckles whitened as she gripped the ladder. Every muscle in her body strained from the awkward position.

Where the hell is this guy? Zara thought. Toppled trashcans couldn't have been a good enough diversion to ward off her stalker. She couldn't quite understand his dogged persistence, and that scared her. Assailants are known to give up on victims that showed any resistance.

This is taking too long, where is he?

Maybe he had given up. She gave it another minute. Just to make sure.

The coast was clear.

Zara was about to jump back down, but that dreaded squelching returned.

It slowly made its way through the filth, and towards Zara.

-:-