Prey

 She could feel his eyes on her. Could feel them boring into her unabashedly.

 That ill-defined sense of being watched, of being observed, presumably gifted to us at the expense of so many mangled and surprised primates in our primitive past. That sense was so strong she felt like she could hear it screech like a kettle on the boil.

 The train continued its vibrating amble around an easy arcing bend as the rain continued to slide down the windows. It was already dark outside and the street lights, shops and headlights blurred into an indistinguishable collage. Inside the carriage the transported swayed with the movement in unison, minds already at their destinations. Thumbs absent mindedly slid across screens, with poker faces betraying no trace of what content they might display.

 She brushed a stray strand of her hair off her face and tucked it behind her right ear before slipping out her phone and pausing the laughing, chattering voices that had been so enthusiastically bantering in her headphones. She made an effort to look deep in thought as she kept her eyes on the phone and felt so self-conscious in doing so that she doubted she was pulling it off. As she slid the phone back into her pocket she allowed her eyes to finally glance to where they had been so drawn to ever since she felt that tingle on the back of her neck.

 Immediately she saw him and had to summon every ounce of casualness she possessed to gaze through and beyond him like her mind was on auto pilot. He was standing at the carriages next set of doors and his eyes didn’t flinch when she looked up. They didn’t furtively look away or even blink and slowly drift to another subject. They stared at her with a detached intensity. It wasn’t the stare of a big cat trying to pick the right moment to pounce, a stare full of desire, concentration, hope and hunger. It was more the stare of some deep hidden sea creature. A stare with no thought behind it, just a slow click, click, click.

 He stood straight, his shoulders back and his feet planted like they were part of the structure of the train. Even with the carriage full of damp, dull civilians there seemed to be a yard of space around him on all sides as if his personal space was a physical barrier to those beside him. He wore a cheap brown suit with no tie and the collar open. A heavy black jacket was worn over this but was conspicuously wide open despite the biting cold. It was the uniform of the over worked, ambitious recent graduate. The twenty something who knew with certainty that the universe was his for the taking and was dismayed about both the size of his apartment and his pay cheque. His hair was short and deliberately scruffed while his face had the stubble of somebody who took great pains to appear fashionably unkempt.

 “What is that noise” she thought for a second before realising it was her heart beating in her ears. It sounded so load it was hard to believe now that she wasn’t always aware of it. Booming as it might sound, it thudded the same regular beat.

 The train carried on its journey into the outskirts of a dark, frigid city whose inhabitants were all huddling their way to well-lit fortresses of warmth. The herd of folk between he and she dwindled with each stuttering stop. The space between was just empty browny orange floor interspersed with little lakes that shifted continuously. She felt every muscle in her body, felt her breath in and out as she stared blankly out the window. The train slowed as her stop approached. Out of the corner of her eye she could perceive him, standing with one hand gripping the pole. Still staring, she wasn’t sure she had seen him move at all even as all those around him abandoned their space and bailed out of the doors.

 The doors opened and she strode out into the bustling frozen air. She took a hard right and marched down the slick concrete steps. As she reached the bottom she looked in the transparent reflection of a vacant ticket booth plastic window. The steps behind her were empty but for one passenger following. His face was expressionless but his feet moved quickly.

 She left the station behind her and opened a small flimsy green umbrella as she made her way down the street towards home. She kept a brisk pace in her sensible shoes, tip toeing through the growing puddles. Her hand bag, a generic black off the rack number she used exclusively for work, was tucked up under arm while her jacket collar attempted and failed to shield away the wet wind. She resisted the urge to look back, she didn’t need to anyway. She knew he was keeping pace with her step by step.

 On a bright sunny day the street was probably quite charming. A comfortably familiar looking slice of almost suburbia with its one off shops and semi-detached houses pressed right up against the road. Tonight though it was almost deserted with only the occasional crescendo of wheels slashing through the rain water to remind you anybody was still awake.

 The one beacon of light was the glowing yellow light of a rundown little coffee shop imaginatively named “Anne’s” that had so far improbably survived the onslaught of Starbucks. Still one look at the washed out white exterior made it seem like it was probably nearing the end of its days and Anne knew it.

 She ducked inside, closing her umbrella as the clang of the little bell announced her arrival. Outside he clenched his teeth and quickly crossed the empty street. He stood at attention at an empty bus stop. The pole rattled ever so slightly against the wind.

 Back into the night she fell. The rain was lighter now, just falling lightly with none of the gusto it had carried before. If it hadn’t been accompanied by the biting wind it could almost have been pleasant. She decided it was worth the effort of hoisting the umbrella to fight against it. The light of the coffee shop faded behind her but a shadow strode after her. Somewhere in the distance she could hear a dog barking into the sky.

 His pace was quicker now, quicker than hers and the gap closed. She tried to keep her breathing steady and estimate the distance, 20 meters? Less? Up ahead a crossroads, her path lead to a clear decision. Cross the street and carry on or a sharp blind turn around the tall concrete corner of a primary school that looked more like a prison than anything else.

 She stopped dead and spun. He froze mid stride. Nothing moved.  He looked her directly in the eyes.

 Her mind was blank and it felt like minutes had passed in this standoff, though it had probably only been seconds. Without saying anything she turned and ran to the corner putting her hand out to touch the frozen grey hardness of the wall as she tried to turn right as sharply as her momentum would allow.

 Behind her he had momentarily remained fixed to where he stood but that inertia had quickly disappeared as he sprinted after her. As she disappeared around the corner he pounded the sidewalk in pursuit.

 As he came around the corner he pulled up abruptly as the sharp end of an umbrella jabbed harshly into the centre of his chest. She stood, closed umbrella held tightly and outstretched like a sword in her left hand, a silver canister in her right and an unmistakable smile on her lips. She flicked her right arm and the boiling water inside shot out, snake like, into his face.

 He screamed, an animal primal scream. Falling backwards, writhing on the ground he desperately pawed at the steaming reddening skin.

 Calmly she tucked the umbrella under her arm and screwed the lid back on the flask. The old dear in the coffee shop had been so obliging filling up the flask, especially as she hadn’t even bought anything. She dropped the flask back in her bag and looked at her would-be predator on his hand and knees still making an awful racket. She would still describe the noise as screaming but it was littered now with barely recognisable swear words. His back was to her as he instinctively seemed to be trying to put some distance between them with a spasming crawl. With a quick two step run up she kicked upwards into his groin and felt a satisfying softness as her foot found its mark. He sucked his breath in tightly and rolled onto his side, groaning. His hands inadequately trying to treat two sources of pain.

 She felt better for a little bit of exertion on such a cold night but she really should be getting home now.