Little Red Running Shoes

“Yes, I’m on my way, Nana…No, I’m going to jog over…Well no, I haven’t left yet, but I’m about to…I know I said I was on my way, it’s just an expression…Yes, I can still pick up the ingredients at the corner market by your house…Okay, Nana, see you soon.”

Liz hung up the phone and sighed as she sank onto the bench beside the back door. She bent down, stuffed her feet inside her red running shoes, and tied the laces. She hadn’t secured the finance internship she’d applied for so she’d been stuck helping take care of her grandmother over the summer. Thankfully her grandmother only lived a few miles away so Liz was able to keep up with her training for cross country by running there and back every day.

After jamming her earpods in place she jetted out and let her mind get lost in the hip-hop beats and the rhythmic thumping of her feet on the sidewalk. She weaved her way out of her parents neighborhood, crossed over the bridge that spanned the Crest River, and began running through the northern edge of the nearby nature reserve. She was nearly out of the woods when another jogger ran up alongside her. The handsome young man had long brown hair tied back in a pony tail that trailed down his silvery gray t-shirt. He flashed Liz a smile and raised his hand in a wave. She popped an earbud out and smiled back at him. “Hey, Mitchell!” she said.

“What’s up Liz?” Mitchell said enthusiastically. “Running the route to your grandmother’s house again?”

“Yep! Gotta grab her some things from the store and then help her do some baking this afternoon.”

“That’s so nice of you. I bet your grandmother’s so grateful to have a granddaughter like you.”

“Yeah, when she’s not annoyed with me I think she’s pretty glad to have my company.”

Mitchell chuckled. “How much longer until you head back to school?”

“Just one more week.”

“Wow, I guess the summer’s really flown by hasn’t it. Any interest in grabbing dinner at Mac’s on Friday before you leave?”

Liz stared down at her feet for a moment. Mitchell was a nice guy but she thought she’d been doing a good job of making it clear she wasn’t interested in him. Maybe she would be if it wasn’t for her committed infatuation with the senior captain of the cross country team back at school.

She glanced back at Mitchell. “I’m sorry, Mitchell. I think I’ll be too busy getting packed up this weekend to do anything besides maybe a jog if I can squeeze it in.”

Mitchell looked a little crestfallen but after a few strides his smile was back in place. “No worries, Liz. Well, enjoy time with your grandmother. I’m going to do another loop in the park. Maybe I’ll run into you again before you leave.”

“Sounds good. Enjoy your run,” Liz replied as they reached the junction and parted ways. In a matter of minutes she was back along a busy street and it wasn’t long before she reached the corner store just a few blocks from her grandmother’s house.

She quickly gathered the ingredients for making some apple pies and buttermilk biscuits. Then she walked with grocery bags in hand down the street and into her grandmother’s neighborhood.

Her grandmother’s next door neighbor, Mr. Crosby, was outside washing his truck. He lifted one hand to wave at Liz while he scrubbed mud off the antlers he’d fasted to the front of his vehicle.

Liz waved back and forced a smile. The guy always gave her the creeps. When the curtains were open in his house you could see all the taxidermy deer heads he had mounted around his TV.

She pulled out her keys and reached out her hand to unlock her grandmother’s front door, but it was already unlocked. Once inside she waltzed through the empty living room to put the grocery items on the kitchen counter. She set down her earpods and phone too then retraced her steps to the living room. The TV was on, but her grandmother was not at her usual spot on the paisley sofa.

“Nana,” Liz called out. “I got everything we need. Which dough do you want to start on? The biscuits or the pie crust?”

There was no reply.

“Nana?” she called out again. She wandered down the hall and poked her head into her grandmother’s bedroom. Her grandmother wasn’t there either. Liz was about to call out again when she noticed the closet door was ajar. Her grandmother hated when doors to closets and cabinets were left open. She moved forward quickly, suddenly concerned that something was wrong. Maybe her grandmother had fallen! She swung the door open and flicked on the light.

She gasped. Her grandmother was lying face down on the floor with blood trickling from a cut on the back of her head.

“Nana!” Liz cried. She crouched at her side and reached out two trembling fingers to her grandmother’s throat. A faint pulse trembled beneath her fingertips. Liz jumped to her feet and sprinted toward the hall. She had to get to her phone and call for an ambulance.

But suddenly someone stepped in front of her blocking her path. She screamed as she was shoved hard. Tumbling to the ground, she felt a presence crowding in above her.

She peered up, but didn’t understand what she was seeing. Mitchell loomed over her. He was smiling, but not with the friendly smile he’d worn when she’d met him on the path. It was a wicked smirk.

Adrenaline was coursing through Liz’s body. She’d never wanted anything so badly as to get away from Mitchell and his penetrating gaze.

“What are you doing here?” she spat.

“You turned me down after I’d been nothing but nice to you this summer. That’s kind of rude, don’t you think?”

“What? You broke into my grandmother’s house because I wouldn’t go out with you?”

“You should have felt honored that I asked you out, but clearly you’re just a stuck up brat. You need to realize that you made a mistake in insulting me.”

Liz’s heart was pounding. If she could just get past him and make it to her phone. She had to try. Readying her muscles she raised herself up to a crouch. Then with as much force as she could she hurled herself at Mitchell. She managed to knock him against the wall and she had her shot. She bolted forward, but he grabbed on to her hair and yanked her backwards.

She screamed as she hit the floor again.

This time Mitchell pinned her down and drew a knife out of his pocket. His long hair dangled above her face as she tried to squirm free.

He was lowering the blade toward her neck and she couldn’t get away.

She screamed again and Mitchell laughed.

Suddenly her ears were ringing and the weight holding her down disappeared. She sat up to see Mitchell slumped against the wall clutching at his chest. His gray shirt was turning dark as it became soaked in blood.

Liz looked over her shoulder. Mr. Crosby stood at the end of the hallway with a hunting rifle in his hands.