As they hit the floor, the knife scattered from Mary’s hand and she panicked. It was now the two of them in a floor-wrestling match, with no weapons. If Quaddra managed to grab hold of Mary, wounded or not, it was over.
As Quaddra lifted his head to look at her, she began crab-crawling backwards – on her hands, butt and feet – as fast as she could to, once again, try to put some distance between the two of them.
It didn’t work.
Before Mary could get away, Quaddra extended his right arm, sending more blood flying Mary’s way and somehow, he managed to grab hold of her left ankle.
‘Where the fuck do you think you’re going?’
Fueled only by panic, Mary kicked out her legs in utter desperation – once, twice, three times – that was when her left foot connected with Quaddra’s nose. The wound already on its bridge sliced open even more, and Quaddra, with another guttural scream of pain, let go of Mary’s leg, bringing both hands to his face. Blood dripped from his hand, nose and shoulder, creating a small red and viscous pool on the kitchen floor. Mary desperately back-crawled some more, her legs still kicking wildly, until she was out of reach from Quaddra’s arms.
The knife that had scattered from her hand had ended up by the fridge, which was where Mary had managed to back crawl to. She grabbed it again, and with her back pressed tightly against the fridge, extended her right arm out to defend herself one more time, but Quaddra was still where she’d left him – by the kitchen island – holding both hands to his face.
That was Mary’s chance.
Using mostly her left leg, and with a little help from the fridge handle, she managed to pull herself up and back to her feet, but as she did, she saw that Quaddra was also getting back up. The veins in his arms looked pumped, as if he’d just finished a heavy workout. Blood covered his face like a mask, but it was the pure rage and anger that burned in his eyes that truly terrified Mary. She needed to get out of there, and she needed to get out of there now.
‘I’m going to bleed you dry,’ Quaddra said, as he tried to launch himself at Mary one more time, but as he did, he stepped straight into the small pool of blood that he had created on the kitchen floor. His foot slipped awkwardly and he crashed down again… hard.
Now this really was Mary’s chance.
Fucked up knee or not, Mary turned around and ran out of that kitchen as fast as her legs would carry her.
Out of breath and in pain, she ran past the stairwell that ledupstairs and crossed the living room in a hobbling sprint, but it was only when she reached the entry lobby that hope seemed to come back to her. Through the glass panels that flanked their mansion’s front door, Mary could see red and blue flashing lights approaching the house. The 911 call had connected. An operator had been on the line and heard everything that was going on in that kitchen.
In tears, half naked and covered in blood, Mary opened the front door and ran outside, straight into freedom… or so she thought.
Ninety-Four
As soon as Mary opened the door and stepped outside the house, spotlights from several police cars homed in on her.
‘SFPD… freeze,’ the first police officer yelled.
‘He’s in there,’ Mary yelled back, throwing her left thumb over her shoulder. The lights were too bright for her to be able to properly see. ‘He’s in the kitchen.’
‘Put down the knife,’ a second police officer called. ‘And get on the ground… NOW.’
‘He’s in there,’ Mary yelled again, as tears overcame her, her voice breaking. ‘He’s in the kitchen.’
‘Lady,’ the first officer yelled again. ‘I need you to put down the knife and lay down on the ground. I need you to do that now.’
It finally dawned on Mary what that scene would’ve looked like from their point of view – some hysterical woman, running out of the house, semi-naked, with her face, torso and legs covered in blood, and carrying a bloody knife in her hand – ‘psycho killer alert’.
It was actually surprising that she hadn’t been gunned down yet.
‘OK…OK.’ Mary threw the knife on the ground and lifted her hands, partially shielding her eyes from the bright spotlights. Only then could she see that there were three police cruisers in front of her house, and six handguns pointed straight at her.
‘OK. Now slowly get down on your knees then lay flat on the ground… belly first.’
Mary hopped down onto her left knee. Her right one was still too tender for her to be able to bend it properly.
‘Now lay flat on the ground, keep your chin pressed against it, and place your hands behind your back. Do it now.’
Mary did as she was told.
In seconds, a police officer was kneeling on her back before placing a pair of handcuffs around her wrists.
‘Who else is in the house?’ the officer asked.
