Pain shot through the area like something was chewing on my flesh.
It was difficult to tell whether I was screaming or whether I was imagining myself doing it.
Shutting my eyes from fear, I clenched my fist and reached for my back; Liz ran towards me. The house began to tremble.
Shuk.
The knife made contact with whatever was behind me. I could even feel the impact. Liz pulled on the blade but let go after a few seconds before she jumped back.
A black, sharp appendage shot out and landed a centimeter from her foot. The tip sank through the tiles and sent black cement dust flying in the air.
The knife must have been stuck in one of its other legs—the leg that was burrowed into the top of my right lat muscle.
The girl bolted beneath the appendage in front of her, pulled out a fistful of red powder from a pocket of her legging, leaped and then tossed it at the thing behind me.
The legs were now convulsing, pulling violently backward and jerking me along. The sharp pang shot through my back and made me hold my breath the second time. She was most likely using chilies. The thing didn't even make a noise. Not a sound, as if it wasn't even there. She went straight for the knife on its leg.
Pak.
She was holding onto another leg of the spider with her hands in front of her stomach, being quick enough that the leg didn't impale her abdomen. The girl clearly knew how to fight. It happened so fast I couldn't even see the leg move.
No.
She wasn't fast enough. Blood was soaking through her white T-shirt.
She grimaced and gnashed her teeth. But in her expression, I saw more anger than pain.
Liz hurled with her right hand and the red powder exploded across its human face, which made it pull back even more.
Somehow, she managed to apply enough force for the knife to go through the appendage and set me free. She grabbed my wrist and pulled me toward the bathroom, on the way snatching a video recorder on the table, then pushed the brick tiles on the bathroom wall to create an opening and dragged me through it.
The hole was so small, I thought there was no way either of us was going to fit through. I held my breath and squeezed myself through the slit, the rugged brick surfaces scraping against me on both sides, grazing my nose and the back of my head.
We desperately clambered along the ceilings of single-story blocks and then down the dark streets below. I slipped on a steep surface and tumbled, falling down the alley.
My vision reeled as I tried to push myself off the wet earth, my hands dipped in a rut filled with viscous, oily rain water. The smell of sewage mixed with fish assaulted my nostrils. Then somebody helped me up. It was the girl.
As she pulled me along, together we plunged into the darkness.
People on the streets weren't looking at us. To them, we were just like any everyone else, living life.
I turned around to check again.
The spider was nowhere to be seen.
It was morning already. We'd been walking like this for hours.
My legs hurt.
Crossing an intersection, we passed an old lady and a child sitting on the pavement under the traffic light. After crossing the traffic and taking a few steps on the pavement, Liz suddenly let go of me so I had to lean against a nearby building.
"What are you doing?" I called after her.
Then she turned and ran, crossing the street again. When she got to the old lady on the other side, she fished around in her pocket, then put something into the upturned straw hat on the ground—most likely a dollar bill.
Then I noticed a homeless man in the far distance asking people for change. I was only aware of him because he had been looking at Liz so intensely. The other two were probably his wife and kid.
The mother bowed low and mouthed a "thank you" as Liz crossed the same street for the third time.
She offered to help me walk when she got back but this time I refused. She'd let me lean on her like this for a while.
I didn't know what to tell her. It was stupid. Plus, she could've done that when we were still on the other side.
What was that going to do anything for them?
I loathed myself for thinking this, but the truth was that family would need more than pocket change to find a way off the street.
Liz said nothing as she walked in front of me, trying not to go too fast so I could keep up. We walked for a very long time.