BY ANNE TSCHANNEN
Copyright is held by the author.
Footsteps.
There is definitely a second pair of footsteps in this alley aside from my own.
Of course.
Why did I have to cut through the alley? I know better than this.
Shoulders back, head tall. Gird your loins folks; we’ve got this — only another mile and change to the subway station. What does Corinne always say? Act with the confidence of a mediocre white man. Ok. Who is the mediocre-est white man you know? It must be David. Ugh, David — the whole reason I’m in this mess in the first place.
David just had to go and get that promotion — MY promotion. Now he’s my boss and I’m stuck in the same dead-end role I’ve been doing for almost ten years. Did I even want to be made department manager? If I’m honest with myself, no, probably not. But what else was I going to do to move forward in my career? Manager seemed like the next logical step; either that or leave the company and start over somewhere else, which truly seems exhausting.
So, am I devastated? No. Except for now I’m still stuck in the same place and have to report to the most milquetoast of all the potential options. AND the entire department was forced to go to happy hour to celebrate the fact that the status quo didn’t change. Just to rub a little salt in the wound, I even got voluntold to bring the cake. I wonder if that’s because I am the only woman in my department, or possibly Big Boss thought this would show David that there were no hard feelings.
And there aren’t — I guess. At least not towards David. It’s not his fault that he was born a white middle class male, and I wasn’t.
Time to take stock of the problem at hand.
Number one: I did not give a fuck about dressing nicely today and dressed cozily. Pro — I’m in good clothes and shoes to make a break for it. Con — I’m a terrible runner. Outrunning whoever is behind me is not an option.
Number two: I’m slightly drunk from happy hour, which is why I’m walking home in the first place. Pro — I’m fearless. Con — I’m drunk.
Number three: My cell phone is dead. Pro — Is there a pro for this? Con — I can’t call an Uber or a friend to come pick me up.
Number four: I have no friends at work. Pro — None. Con — Sigh. Although I’m sad about it, this seems irrelevant to the current situation.
Number five: I have a knife in my pocket. Pro — Holy shit, I’ve got a knife in my pocket. Con — Holy shit, I’ve got a knife in my pocket.
Number six: I’m in a dark alley. Pro — Nada. Con — I’m in a dark alley, the better to get attacked in.
I think the cons win.
The footsteps are getting closer. Do I dare turn around and look at the person following me? This seems incredibly daunting, although it may be useful to have a clear picture of his face for when I have to make my police report. Assuming I get attacked, that is. Really though, are there any scenarios in which I come out of this situation unharmed?
No. I refuse to be a victim. I slide my key ring out of my pocket and slip my house key in between the knuckles of my clenched fist. I then take my pocketknife and slide it open in my other hand.
I will not take this lying down. Nothing else has been going my way recently — it’s time to change that narrative.
Just a few blocks more.
I feel a hand on my shoulder. Without thinking, I whirl around, adrenaline raging. The fist holding my keys connects with the man’s face, the key slicing into his cheek. Simultaneously, I jam my knife into his abdomen. I hear a man’s grunt as warm blood trickles into my palm. I pull the knife out and finally look at the man’s face.
David.
Oh shit. David.
David, the most mediocre man I know. The man who just got promoted over me. The man who I just stabbed in both the face and the stomach.
“What the hell?” he grunted. “Did you just fucking stab me?”
He backed up a few paces to lean against the wall on the side of the alley and put one hand over his wounded stomach. In his other hand he held a plastic bag, which he held out to me. “I just wanted to return your cake platter.”
Oh. I take the bag from his outstretched hand. “It’s shit like this that got me promoted instead of you. You don’t think before you act.”
Really? That’s what he decided to say to a woman who thought she was about to be raped, abducted, or even killed? Well, I’m sure thinking now, David. I scanned the alley. There didn’t appear to be any security cameras. There was no one in sight on either end of the alley.
“Why aren’t you calling 911? I probably won’t be able to walk to the hospital.” David grunted in pain again. He didn’t seem to be fatally injured, but an assault like this wouldn’t go unpunished.
Faster than my brain could comprehend, I swung the knife again and it lodged in his neck. With one swift motion, I stepped to the left and pulled the knife across his gullet.
Blood spilled out into the alley. David looked at me, completely stunned, before I saw the life leave his eyes.
Avoiding the pool of blood at his feet, I leaned in to wipe the blood off my knife using his shirt. I’ve listened to enough true crime podcasts to know that a random attack like this would probably go unsolved. The police would do a half assed job of collecting evidence, and then a bigger, flashier crime would happen, and all precinct resources would go to solving that.
I should at least take the money and cards from his wallet to make it look like just a random back-alley mugging. I could throw the cards into the river right outside my subway stop. If forensics found any of my DNA on him, I could claim that we were together for most of the evening, which was unfortunately true.
Once all the blood was off my hands and the knife, I riffle through his pockets until I find his wallet. I leave his ID but take the rest of the contents.
Straightening up, I take one last glance up and down the alley. Still no sign of security cameras. I was in a dilapidated industrial area. Good grief, how was I stupid enough to have turned down this alley in the first place? Was David right? Is that why he got promoted over me?
Regardless. I wonder if they were going to do interviews again or just hire from the last pool of interviewees?
***
Anne Tschannen is a lifelong reader and lover of all things mystery. She works as an engineer and spends the remainder of her free time with her husband and two small children. This is her first published work.