Relentless Read Online Free PDF Page A

in
front of me. He held a knife in front of him. It had a yellow
handle and a long curved blade, similar to that of a filleting
knife. The end of it was stained dark with blood.
For a split second neither of us moved, each studying the
other. Only five yards apart. I didn't have time for fear. Instead,
I experienced a single, nightmarish jolt of shock that froze me to
the spot. And then suddenly he exploded out of the door,
coming at me with huge purposeful strides, the knife raised high
in a killing arc.
Instinctively I grabbed a book from the nearest shelf and flung
it at him, then turned and ran, but in my panic I went the wrong
way and found myself facing the windows at the far end of the
room rather than the door. There was no time to double back,
he was right behind me, so I took off up the walkway in the
direction of the windows, the sound of his breathing and
the rhythmic patter of his boots clattering on the laminated
plastic of the walkway spurring me on.
There was a wooden trolley full of books next to one of the
    shelves and I grabbed the end of it as I passed and yanked it out
into the walkway behind me. I heard him clatter into it, and
the sound of books falling to the floor, then him knocking it to
one side, the delay to his progress giving me perhaps an extra
second and a half. I didn't dare look round; I was too busy
concentrating on getting to the windows. I could see that they
had handles and guessed - prayed - that they opened outwards.
The library was high up, twenty feet above the ground at least,
maybe more. It didn't matter. I had to get out.
I ran between two round reading tables in front of the
windows and pulled desperately at the first latch I came to. It
didn't move. The damn thing was locked. I could hear my
pursuer's footfalls gaining. I swung round and he was there, right
in front of me, five feet away and still running, the bloodied
knife thrusting forward at waist height. Ready to fillet me.
    I heard myself cry out in fear, but at the same time I had
enough instinct for survival to grab the nearest chair and charge
into him, forcing its legs into his face and upper body as I tried
to get him off balance. He stumbled backwards, Lifting his arms
defensively, and this gave me time to move into a more open
space. Out of the corner of my eye I saw an open door marked
. toilets. A potential escape route, but there was no time to give
it much thought as I pressed my advantage, advancing fast and
thrusting the chair at him once again. But this time he was ready.
He jumped nimbly to one side and grabbed one of the legs,
    twisting it away from me.
£ We wrestled with the chair for several more seconds, but I was
»w more exposed and he suddenly lashed out with the knife,
: catching the exposed flesh of my arm below the elbow. I felt
i sharp burning sensation but no pain. My adrenalin was pumpigtjoo
hard for that. I gritted my teeth, saw the thin gash he'd
    made through the material of my shirt bubble up with blood,
and then I was having to dodge him as the knife skimmed
through the air again. It caught me in the middle of my cheek as
I twisted my face away. Another burning sensation, and I could
feel a drop of blood running down onto my neck.
The reality of what was happening now hit me. I was fighting
for my life. This man was trying to kill me, and all the time the
room was deathly silent.
He tried to get his leg round the back of mine so he could trip
me up, then yanked at the chair again and drove the knife at my
midriff. This time as I twisted away, banging hard against the
nearest bookshelf, I let the chair go, giving it as much of a shove
as I could manage under the circumstances. I don't think he was
expecting that because he stumbled backwards and almost lost
his footing.
That was my chance. I turned and ran like I've never run
before, aiming straight at the door marked toilets, knowing that
if I fucked this up, I was dead. I have a morbid fear of being
stabbed to death. Of being opened up by a