Knife Attack

Claire waited at the front entrance, both arms laden with shopping bags, while I went down to the basement to fetch my car. I didn’t see either Giles or Madison. They were probably curled up in their car, dozing off. The sound of my footsteps echoed in the deserted carpark. I wrapped my shawl around my shoulders and picked up my pace. I stopped in front of my car and rooted around in my bag for the key fob. It had been a mistake to bring my oversized Brandon Maxwell tote bag. I almost buried my head inside the bag, looking for the darned tiny key fob among the mess of tissue paper, keys, cardholder and portable phone charger. By the time I heard the sound behind me, it was too late. I looked up in time to see a shadow reflected in the car window. I dodged to my left, dropping my bag. A burning pain shot up from my right forearm. I had no time to check on my injury, as the figure clad in black was raising the knife in his hand again. His cold, reptilian eyes were hidden under a black ca