Ella dared not moan. She wasn’t sure Bruno was gone yet. He had to believe she was dead. She kept going in and out of consciousness, so death wouldn’t be hard to fake for too much longer. She kept as still as possible in the cold and listened and prayed a while longer.
She’d gotten her licks in. He wouldn’t be able to hide the damage for at least a few days. When she first saw his feet she prepared herself by reaching into her shoulder bag and finding the scissors she had in there. When he grabbed her the first time she got him good in the fat of his forearm.
It slowed him down some, but the evil in the man just pumped in more adrenaline. She ran but he still managed to jump her and wrestle her to the ground. She took a few blows, but managed to ditch her purse in the tussle.
Hopefully he wouldn’t find it, unfortunately only some homeless guy would and nothing in it would have any value. Better ending up in the dump, than in his hands. Soon her letters would arrive, and eventually get to someone who would now have all they needed to stop Bruno.
She listened closely. She was alone. She took a well deserved deep, painful breath. She crawled to the alley wall and tried to stand. She couldn’t. She needed help. Ella reached for her cell phone.
Damn…it was in her purse. Help wasn’t coming. She had to do this herself. She struggled to stand. She got almost up and fell back to the ground.
It was over. She hadn’t made it to safety. Ella slid her head to the cold bloody cement. Nothing she could do now. If only she had said something to someone sooner, but she always had to do things herself.
“My bad.” She whispered to the dark, crisp morning air.
Ella started to drift off. In her head she ticked off everything she’d stored, right there under everyone’s nose. She’d sent the letter pointing to where everything was, cryptically of course just in case the wrong person got to it.
But she’d made the call. She knew her partner would be on his way. She trusted him. He’d find away to put it all together. Ella had gathered enough to put it all into place, all but the why. They’d have to figure that one out themselves.
Ella’s eyes popped open. “Oh my God!”
A last bit of energy surged. She knew why. She had known what they were planning but not exactly why. Maybe it was a guess. Maybe it was her own impending death, but it all made sense. It was the only thing that made sense.
Why hadn’t anyone known this before? It was so simple. They had covered it up so long ago, but one of the players had lied. It made everyone scramble in the wrong direction.
Ella had gathered all the evidence but none of it would make sense until they knew why, and she was the only one who had figured it out. Even the players didn’t realize it. Bruno was just guessing, but it his guess had hit dead center of the bullseye, and that wasn’t even what he was after.
She had to tell them. But how? She wasn’t going to live out the hour unless she got help. No help was in sight. There had to be a way.
Ella tried to push herself up again. Her fingers were slick with blood, most of it hers, but some of it his. She smiled and eased herself back down on the cement.
She wasn’t seeing too well, but she did the best she could. Using her fingers as a pen and her own blood as ink she scrawled a message she hoped no one could ignore. When she finished she pulled herself up, covering it with her back.
Ella was happy. She could ease gently into that goodnight now.
“I had a feeling you were faking it…” Ella barely had time to open her eyes before the man’s boot came at her forehead and crushed her skull against the wall.
He examined his work closely this time. There’s no way she was faking it now. Bruno ripped the sleeve off Ella’s blouse and wiped her blood off the sole of his boot. He tossed it in the trash when he was satisfied he wouldn’t leave footprints and chuckled as he left her body.
When he turned the corner, disappearing into the maze that would lead him to anonymity, Ella’s body fell to the side with a thud on the ground. Fresh blood and brain matter trickled down the brick mingling with the message she left.
But it was there, shouting over her body like a cartoon bubble, one word still readable…”Hutton”.
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