Simon Kernick - Deadline

'No, course not. I've done it before, you know.'

He chuckled. 'Ooh, you are a naughty girl, aren't you? I think maybe we can make things a bit more comfortable for you.'

He stopped sponging her and she heard him fiddling around for the key. She tensed as he found it and unlocked the cuffs, slipping them off. She heard him stand up, then the sound of a zipper being pulled.

Now! Now! Now! a voice in her head screamed.

She pulled off the hood and jumped up from the bed in one movement, kneeing him in the groin as hard as she could. He gasped in pain and staggered backwards, clutching himself with both hands.

For the first time, she got a look at him. He was dressed in jeans and a dirty white T-shirt, and his face was covered by a balaclava. Tattoos adorned his arms.

Picking up the chain, she ran past him, dodging beneath a flailing arm as he tried to grab her.

'You little cow!' he bellowed, lurching after her, still holding on to his balls.

She took the steps two at a time, the chain still in her hand. Her limbs felt stiff and painful from the sudden burst of exercise, but adrenalin drove her on because she knew that if he caught her, this time he'd kill her for sure. He hadn't locked the door from the inside, and she yanked it open and ran out, slamming it behind her.

She was in a hallway. A door ahead led through to a living room, one to the right looked like it led outside. She turned hard right, ran across the hall and grabbed the handle. It turned, but the door didn't open. Panic flooded through her.

Behind her, the cellar door flew open and banged hard against the wall as he came stumbling out after her.

There was a second handle. Tucking the chain beneath her arm, she turned the two of them simultaneously, and this time the door opened.

A gloved hand snatched at her collar, but she kept going, hearing it rip as he lost his grip, and then she was out into the night, breathing in fresh air for the first time in days. There was a gate and fence ahead, beyond them trees. The gate was shut. She knew he'd catch her if she ran towards it, so she darted left, running along the front of the house, past an outbuilding, making for a field with long grass up ahead.

She could hear his footsteps on the gravel behind her, and the sound of his heavy breathing. He was only feet away now. Pure fear drove her on, the sure knowledge of what he'd do if he caught her making her legs pump far faster than she'd ever thought they were capable of. She'd never been much of a runner, and at school she'd hated athletics, even though her Games teacher, Miss Floyd, always said that she had the perfect build for it, being slim and small-chested. And now, finally, when it really mattered, she was proving Miss Floyd right.

His breathing got fainter as she began to open up some distance between them. She was running into the long grass now, and she felt a surge of elation which lasted no more than a second. As she pumped her arms to speed herself up, the movement tightened the chain and caused her to trip up and lose her footing. She fell forwards, the uneven, stony ground charging up to meet her, and her hands hit it palms first.

Desperately she scrambled to her feet, but it was too late. With a roar of triumph, he came down hard on her back, knocking the wind out of her in an agonizing rush.

'Oh God!'

'He can't help you now, you little tease!'

He laughed as he sat astride her and twisted her round roughly so that she was facing him, his knees digging into her upper arms. She stared into his balaclava-clad face, saw dark eyes glinting excitedly through the slits, and felt terror surge through her as his gloved hands fiddled impatiently with the zipper on his jeans, pulling them open.

He grabbed her wrist and thrust her hand towards his groin, pulling her upright as he did so. 'Feel me,' he hissed, and she cried out as the hand made contact. But he'd moved as well and his knee was no longer pinning her free arm. Taking her chance, with the free hand she scrabbled around in the grass until she found a sharp piece of flint half the size of her palm. It wasn't much of a weapon, but it was all she had. Operating entirely on instinct now, she drove it into the side of his head and dragged the sharp edge down the side of his balaclava.

He yelped in pain and smacked her hand away, letting go of the other one at the same time, but Emma pressed her advantage, ramming the flint into the top of his thigh, only centimetres from his balls. Cursing, he jumped off her, keen to get out of the way before she did any more damage, and she saw her opportunity. Scrambling to her feet, she took off again, the chain trailing loosely behind her as she made for the tree line, not daring to look back.

She hit the trees at a sprint, branches crunching underfoot as she was swallowed up by the darkness, tearing through brambles, ignoring the pain as they scratched and clawed her, just wanting to keep running, to get as far away from him as possible. Faster and faster, almost blind now in her desire to keep going.

She fell headfirst, landing on a bed of leaves. She could still hear him but it sounded as if he was some distance away. He hadn't seen or heard her fall, she was sure of that. Part of her wanted to jump back up and keep going, but a bigger part told her that it was best to stay put, hidden. Slowly, very slowly, trying to control her breathing, she inched forward on her stomach, pushing herself under a thick holly bush until she'd got her whole body underneath it, the jagged leaves scraping against her head and back.

She could feel his heavy footfalls getting closer. Step by slow step. She'd never been so scared in her whole life and it took all her willpower just to stop herself from crying out. She squeezed her eyes shut and bit her lip.

'You've cut me, you little cow,' he hissed, his voice carrying through the darkness. 'And after all I've done for you as well. I kept you alive, and you do this.'

Another footstep. Almost next to her now. She forced her eyes open, and had to stifle a scream. He was right by the holly bush, his black Caterpillar boot only feet away from her face, a hulking black shadow blocking out the moonlight as he sniffed the air like some kind of predator.

She stayed utterly still, frozen to the spot, not even daring to breathe. Waiting. Hoping. Praying that he wouldn't discover her.

Please. I just want to go home. See my mum. End this nightmare.

He seemed to stand there for ever, and she felt her lungs tightening, crying out for air.

Move. Move, please. I can't hold it in much longer.

And then suddenly he did, the footfalls starting again as he skirted the holly bush and began to move away.

She shut her eyes and thanked God, exhaling as silently as she could and slowly taking in much needed air. Kept listening, telling herself that she only had to lie there another few minutes and everything would be all right. He'd give up his search, and she'd make a run for the nearest road. Get help. Go home.

She never heard the movement behind her, just caught a reek of stale sweat. And then the chain that was attached to her ankle was suddenly round her neck, choking her, and a triumphant voice was whispering in her ear, 'Found you.'

Bolt walked slowly down the track as it ran in a curve through the woodland and then straightened as the tree line ended and an old two-storey cottage in need of a lick of paint appeared in front of him, nestled between two ramshackle outbuildings. There were lights on downstairs and the double-gates that led to the front of the house were wide open. A dark-coloured Range Rover was parked in the driveway.

He moved off the driveway and on to the long grass lining it so that his movements didn't trigger any lights, and approached the gates quietly using the darkness as cover.