"Shay! Shay, I'm here!" Charlie's voice was scratchy and weak.

Shay rushed into the room so fast it appeared she jumped time. One moment she wasn't there, and the next she was. Charlie wondered if she blacked out for a moment, but she was too taken with the sight of her friend to worry about herself. Shay was clothed in her favorite shirt with her favorite band depicted on the front. Charlie couldn't remember her wearing it earlier.

That's right! She was nude. Charlie remembered. A vague image came back of Shay laying motionless and vulnerable on the slab. Her skin was cut up something fierce. The cuts were still there, but the blood had stopped flowing and darkened.

"Charlie!" Shay said urgently. "Listen to me Char. You have to get up."

Charlie felt the room sway. The dingy green-brown wall waved as if floating in a sea. Get up. The information took a moment to sink in. She wasn't aware that she'd fallen, yet here she was, sprawled on the filthy floor.

"Come on," Shay coaxed.

She wrapped her hands around Charlie. Shay was ice-cold. It felt good to Charlie's battered body, but it also worried her. She had seen all the cuts on Shay's body. They had looked shallow, but if Shay was this cold, she must have lost a lot of blood. All of the pain went to the back of Charlie's mind as she focused on her friend.

"You're so cold," she noted aloud.

"It's okay. I'm fine. I'm more worried about you." Shay handed Charlie something fabric. "Here. Put this on."

They were standing now and Charlie instinctively rested her weight on her left foot. Shay helped wrap a lab coat around Charlie's naked shoulders. She slipped her arms into the sleeves while Shay buttoned a few buttons.

"I thought you were dead," Charlie sobbed, looking at the top of Shay's head.

"Shh, focus, Charlie. I need you to get out of here."

Anguish riddled Charlie's face. Shay took Charlie's cheeks in each icy hand. It was a shock. Charlie's eyes popped wide.

"He was fighting with Jake when I left," Shay explained. "Jake wasn't winning. He will come back. I need you to get ready."

"I can't," Charlie confessed. "My hip..."

"Yes, you can. And you will. Take this." She put the heavy butchers knife in Charlie's hand. "Stand behind the door. When he comes in, let him have it."

"Just run, Shay," Charlie begged. "Get out of here."

"Shh!" Shay shoved Charlie behind the door.

Lava was swirling in Charlie's hip again. She didn't see where Shay went. All she could hear was heavy clomping as he approached. Her hip throbbed in time with the pounding footfalls. She tried not to breathe deeply, it helped the piercing pain in her side. She gripped the knife handle for dear life. The feet clomped right into the room.

He was looking into the room, where she had been laying. There was now only dirt, blood smears, and some clean spots where perhaps her leg had wiped away the grime on the floor. He laughed softly, not knowing that she was looking at him.

She couldn't stand anymore. Knowing she was about to crumble, Charlie thrust the knife toward his back. He turned around and caught her easily. One am wrapped around her waist, the hand of the other wrapped around the knife in her hand.

"Did you think I couldn't hear you, Charlie?" he said into her ear.

Charlie wanted to cry. She couldn't win. She couldn't catch him off guard, because she just didn't have the ability to be sneaky. She had always associated such things with bad people, and she was not bad. Her kindness had led her down a vulnerable path once again.

Then suddenly, he gasped and his arm came uncoiled. Charlie welcomed the ground as she crashed into it. He stammered and backed away from her.

"But you were..." he said.

His words were replaced with a shout as Charlie slit his Achilles' tendon with the knife. It was all she could think of to save Shay and herself. He fell backward and writhed on the floor. Charlie felt no sympathy whatsoever. For the first time in her life, she knew what it was like to feel satisfaction from someone else's pain. It made her feel stronger. She kicked the door with her healthy leg, and though it made her right side sting, she kicked it hard. The door collided with his head, slamming it into the wall. The door bounced back and Shay was there this time. She swung it again. Then again. Then again. He made a gurgling sound. Blood pooled from his head and ankle. He twitched a few times.

Shay opened the door wide.

"Come on," she said.

Charlie wanted to vomit first, because she just helped kill someone. It wasn't like he didn't deserve it, but she still would have liked the justice system to have taken care of it. She would have liked to see him be in handcuffs and trying to hide his face in the newspapers. She would have rather had a judge decide the death penalty, because that's what civilized people do. She would have rather had him interrogated, had some of his secrets unveiled for all the families of his victims. She would rather them get the chance to look into his guilty face...

"Charlie..." Shay said as she pulled Charlie's arm around her neck and allowed Charlie's weight to rest on her. "It's okay. He's gone. You're gonna be okay."

They walked down the hall, which seemed to grow longer and more difficult the further they went. Charlie stumbled and cried out a few times. Finally the door burst open and Charlie fell in a dive out of it. She was on the verge of fainting, but she felt concrete beneath her.

Vaguely, she noticed a boy standing over her with a skateboard. Then there was blackness.

---

Charlie woke up surrounded by a strong sterile scent. She was in a stiff hospital bed. Her leg was stiff in a cast all the way up and around her hip. It was so white that the harsh light refracted from it and she blinked. Then she noticed the officer.

"Charlotte? Charlotte Shultz?" he asked.

He was a little on the larger side and bald with a square chin. His eyes were soft and brown with thick, dark eyebrows above. "Y-yeah," she said.

"Your parents are on their way," he said. "I'd like to ask you some questions if you don't mind."

Questions? She didn't know if she was ready. Did they ask Shay these questions too? She looked around the room. It was a double room, but the other bed was neat and  empty.

"Where is Shay?" she asked. "I'm not answering any questions without Shay." She needed her for moral support.

"Shayleigh Wriggly," the officer gave a downtrodden look. "She was found inside. I'm sorry, but she didn't make it."

"W-what? She made it out with me..." Charlie said, refusing to believe it.

"That's impossible," he said. "You were found at 3 p.m. Her time of death is estimated at around 1 p.m."

Charlie's heart clenched. Shay was really dead. But she had been there. She gave Charlie the strength to get out of there. Had even helped. Charlie was sure of it. It had somehow been Shay's last act. Or had it? How out of it had Charlie been? Could she have done it all herself and imagined Shay?

Charlie's friend was gone and there's no coming back. It made her hate that psycho even more. Her hatred burned.

"Did you find him?" Charlie said angrily.

"Yes, he was a mess but we found him. Jake Harold."

"No," Charlie said. "The other guy. In the doorway."

"Do you have a name?" he asked, clicking the end of the pen in his hand.

Charlie took a deep calming breath. She had a lot to explain.

-----

A/N: that concludes One That Got Away. You guys have been amazing and I was so shocked, but delighted to see this story make the Wattys shortlist. So happy that I decided to keep going! Keep an eye out for the next installment which will be titled She Is His Daughter. Thank you! XO, Sam ❤️