The madman threw the rock.
He scared them off,
Got her alone,
Hickory Dickory Doc.”
I jump to my feet and run for the emergency exit in the adult fiction section. When I hear that same click, I know I only have moments before another explosion. The grenade whizzes by me and lands right in front of the exit door.
Making a sharp turn in the opposite direction toward the computers doesn’t protect me from the blast. I’m knocked off my feet again, but this time I land on all fours. More debris hits me then a heavy wooden shelf gets me right in my lower back.
The stench of smoke invades my nostrils, but the alarm doesn’t go off. I know exactly where the extinguisher is, but I don’t think I can get to it with Seth chasing me and fucking throwing grenades all over the place.
Hopping to my feet, I face him and defensively raise my hands. “Seth,” I plead with him. “It’s me. It’s Raven.” But my appeal falls on deaf ears.
He approaches me and whips out his hand to grab mine. His hand is cold and feeble. His fingers are like thin bands of steel digging into my hand. With a strength I didn’t think possible, he applies pressure, and an agonizing pop jolts up my arm. I bite my lip to stop myself from crying out in pain. I pull at his wrist with my free hand, attempting to get him to let go, but he doesn’t budge.
“Please, Seth,” I try again. “Remember me? I gave you my vanilla pudding.” It was only one time, but I’m praying he recalls the gift.
It’s like my words don’t register whatsoever. The deranged smile is still plastered on his face as he reaches back into the front pouch of his hoodie.
No, no, no. I’m not dying here like this.
With my free hand, I stiffen my palm and thrust upward at his face. The flat of my hand connects with his nose, and a reverberating crunch rings out. The force of my hit whips Seth’s head to the side, throwing him back. He lets go of my injured hand, and I take off for the children’s section. Crouching down behind the last row of books, I look around, forming a plan in my head.
Maybe I can just run for the front door. I’m not sure where Seth is, but I need to get out of here. Who knows how many more grenades he has on him.
Whistling continues and gets closer. Another click, another bang. This time, coming from the entrance to the library.
“Hickory Dickory Doc,
The girl stopped the rock.
The clock struck two,
The girl ran off,
Hickory Dickory Doc.”
A chill trickles down my spine. The lyrics of the remixed nursery rhyme feel like a message; however, decoding it will have to wait. But the “got her alone” line makes my stomach turn into a tight ball.
I can get through this. I just need to make it to an exit. If I find an exit, I’ll be okay.
There’s a clank against the windows, and a few moments later, the glass shatters into tiny pieces, shooting in every direction. Tucking my face into my knees, I cover the back of my head with my hands.
My jaw clenches when a sharp object slices through my hand. A thick, warm liquid dribbles through my hair and down my neck. When I peek up, I find a piece of glass sticking out of my broken hand.
Seth’s whistling resumes, now closer than before. The hairs on the back of my neck stand straight up. His shoes appear at the end of the aisle. He stops, easily spotting me on the ground. His nose is crooked, and blood flows over his lips, down his chin, and drips onto the floor.
The expression on his face is positively giddy. When he smiles this time, his teeth are covered in red.
“Hickory Dickory Doc,
The madman gave me the rock.
The room was blown,
Got her alone,
