Chapter 1     A Night of Terror  

I screamed out from shock as the sound of the explosion ripped through the kitchen, shaking dust loose from the timber walls. At the same time, the lights went out and I was plunged into darkness as if a heavy cloak was thrown over me. I dropped the knife with a clatter on the tiles and instinctively dived to the floor, scurrying under where I guessed the dining table would be but I hit my head on the edge of the hardwood top and bounced back, shaking my head from the pain. Damn, that hurts. My hand went up to my head finding it wet and sticky.  Bloodied and groggy, I slid under cover. I felt vulnerable to whatever could come my way but it was my only protection. Blood trickled down my forehead and into my eyes so I wiped it away only to be replaced with more thick goo. 

My heart beat furiously. I was scared. Has he finally caught up with me? Is this the end of it?

I peered into the darkness and couldn't see any fire but I could smell acrid smoke which made my eyes water and sting.  I wiped them with the back of my hands again but it didn't help much. I searched for the tiniest sound ......  The silence was ominous. My eyes were useless but my ears seemed to stretch through the house, searching ...... Nothing. It was a cool night but I was sweating. Fear does that and I had plenty to call on to do its job successfully. My head throbbed with pain and I wiped away the wet mixture of blood and sweat from my forehead and eyes yet again. With blind vision, hearing and all my senses, I searched further into the darkness for the even darker embodiment of the evil bastard I knew sought revenge for my betrayal.

The dogs barked. He must be out there.  He'll find me for sure. My heart was pounding, trying to escape my chest. I realized I was holding my breath and forced myself to breathe, but quietly lest even that faint sound would give me away. Where's that damn knife I dropped? My hands were shaking. If he's going to get me, I might as well go down with a bloody good fight.  I can't let him get me like he got poor Ray. 

That thought made me angry. Reaching out and groping around for the knife, I cut myself on the sharp blade but eagerly grabbed it and twisted it around so I had it by the handle in a defensive position. OK, now what? .........  Bugger it! I slid out and jumped up onto my feet, yelling into the darkness, "Come on you bastard. It's your turn now." Waving the knife back and forth in front of me and trying to blink the goo and stinging out of my eyes, I shook my head in disbelief. How much I've changed. And what was I really prepared to do?

How the hell did I get into this mess?

(Chapter 2 - The Beginning)

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