Ice Shock(31)

Now I recognize my surroundings—I’m on the edge of Wolvercote Village, near Port Meadow. I keep going. Somewhere ahead, I remember, there’s a bridge, then a railway crossing.

I keep up the pressure, running hard until I come to the bridge. The soggy ground slows me down; the dress shoes don’t help either. I can still hear Madison, now about thirty yards behind.

From the railway crossing, I tear along the main path, splashing through puddles, crossing onto a meadow trail as I approach some houses near the road. I drag my thoughts away from my aching ribs and muscles, trying to think of a plan.

If I can find somewhere to hide, I can stay here until someone arrives from Ek Naab at four in the morning.

Although, in just a vest and soaked with sweat and possibly blood, I wonder how long I’ll last in the open …

I desperately need to reach shelter. There’s a restaurant in Godstow, on the river. I could probably reach it in a minute or two. I keep going, running past the parking lot, and reach the Isis River. I remember that there’s a boathouse close by on the other side of the river, which is only a few yards wide and shallow at this point. By the time I jump into the water, the open run has helped Madison gain on me. He’s now only twenty yards or so behind.

Nothing could prepare me for the icy shock of the water. It’s like another blow to my chest. It takes only a few seconds to swim across. Already, I’m shaking. As I climb out onto a wooden jetty, Madison hits the water. I grab the end of a canoe with both hands and slam it into Madison as he approaches. He gasps, reeling, swears at me, then falls back into the water. I turn and keep running. I can still hear him cursing in anger.

As I run through the boatyard, I realize that I can’t see any way out except via the locked buildings. The boatyard is on an outcropping where two rivers join. On one side is Port Meadow, where I’ve just come from. On the other is the village of Godstow. I reach the end of the yard and run onto another jetty. For the first time, I’m out of Madison’s line of sight.

The only way out seems to be Godstow. Which means crossing another river. It’s narrow, like the first. I’m already soaked through, shivering from the wind chill. But the water will be deeper here and freezing cold.

Dreading the cold, I slip quietly back into the water. It’s horrible. I duck under the jetty and hold my breath, listening to Madison approach.

He runs into the yard and then stops.

I’ve lost him—so long as he doesn’t figure out that I’m in the water.

I clamp my mouth shut to stop my teeth from chattering. My energy seeps away with every second.

Now that I’ve stopped moving and I’m up to my neck in icy water, I’m going into shock. My arms and legs begin to shake.

I have to keep going.

I take a deep breath and swim underwater. I move out from the jetty and into the river. When I come up for air, I can see trees and the nearby bank.

I drag myself out near the trees on the little island. And then my muscles won’t respond. I drop behind a tree, catch my breath, get the shakes. Downstream on the other side of the river, Madison is pacing around. There was a nearby yard with a house—maybe he thinks I’ve gone that way?

Then I hear him jump into the river. My heart sinks—he’s figured it out. I stagger to my feet, keep moving through the trees. Farther down, I reach the other side of the island—the river again. I hear the road and see lights up ahead.

I keep going, guided by the street lights. By the time I reach the road, I’m shattered. Madison must have bet on me hiding on the island because I hear him thrashing around in the interior. I stagger into the road. Maybe a car will pass by and stop? I must look terrible—soaked from head to foot, wearing just a bloody vest on top. I make myself keep jogging, barely moving faster than a walk.

I turn around and peek through a gap in the hedge. I’m just in time to see Madison climbing out of the water, onto the road. He could catch up with me in two seconds.

I pull off the road and into the dark of the meadow. If I remember correctly from our family walks, there are some ruins close by—an old convent. If I can get behind the walls, I can hide for hours, always staying on the opposite side from Madison. The somber silhouettes of the ruined walls stand out against the sky up ahead. I jog a little faster across the footpath and into the ruins. I lean against the wall, breathing deeply to recover.

I’m so weak, I seriously don’t know whether I can keep going. But it’s that or he catches me. I cross the grass to the opposite side of the ruins. I find what I’m looking for—the ruined chapel. There’s just one entrance. Inside, I climb onto the ledge of an east window.