ALL NOVEL 0016 – A Dance with Danger
Zoe Carter inhaled deeply, familiarizing herself with the peculiar scents that lingered in the air. Aside from the unmistakable iron tang of blood—carried faintly from the women's restroom—there was another scent, distinctive yet troubling: that of a man.
She hesitated, the gears of her mind turning quickly.
Assessing the situation through her keen sense of smell, Zoe determined that the injured woman's blood loss did not appear life-threatening in the immediate term. Thus, she opted to refrain from being the first to enter the restroom.
Her curiosity surrounding the source of the blood was eclipsed by an even deeper aversion to being entangled in the public eye during a crisis.
Feigning nonchalance, she bent down as if to tie her shoelaces, her peripheral vision honing in on two nearby women making their way toward the restroom. Zoe deftly chose to let them preface her in the examination of the unfolding incident. But before they could reach the door, it burst open with a resounding crash.
A man, wild-eyed and drenched in blood, barreled out, brandishing a dagger with a malevolent gleam. The bystanders, caught off guard, recoiled in horror, their disbelief palpable as fear took root.
The two women who had edged closer, poised to enter the restroom, were overtaken by panic, scrambling back as they shrieked.
In that electrifying moment, Zoe instinctively sensed the surge in her adrenaline, propelling her into a state of calm that both surprised and emboldened her. Rather than spiral into fear, she instinctively sought refuge behind the crowd, though an unsettling connection seemed to tether her to the man with the knife—he locked onto her as if she were the only target in his madness.
With a burst of speed, he surged towards her, the crowd shifting chaotically in response. As he closed the distance, Zoe’s world turned surreal; time itself felt as though it had slowed. Every detail crystallised in her mind—the crazed fire in his gaze, the taut veins in his hand gripping the dagger, the beads of perspiration trickling down his temple, evidencing his frayed nerves.
Amongst the chaos, Zoe's perception sharpened; the pounding of his heartbeat mirrored thunder in her ears, a rhythm that quickened with each stride he took.
And yet, she felt no panic. Instead, an unexpected spark of something darker flickered within her—anticipation.
This was far removed from her usual temperament. Something profound had shifted within her as her instincts surged.
As the man drew nearly within arm's reach, poised to strike, Zoe’s eyes darted to his neck. A chilling thought flitted through her mind: I could easily rip into him, take his life in an instant.
Her hands quivered with an urge to retaliate, yet she wrestled with the impulse, steeling herself with the knowledge that this was a public space.
In that split second, she pivoted to the right, narrowly evading the man's initial thrust. She noted the sheer astonishment flickering across his features as he registered her calmness amidst the chaos. To her, his movements felt clumsy, lethargic.
At that moment, she could have devised a myriad of lethal tactics to dismantle him utterly. But she quelled the instinct for violence deep within her as he staggered with disbelief. Zoe sidestepped, deftly dodging his errant swipe.
Seizing her chance, she lunged, gripping the wrist of the knife-wielding hand as his resolve faltered. With an expert sweep of her leg, she took him down to the ground, his body thudding against the hard tile.
Zoe pressed her knee into his back, efficiently wrenching the dagger from his grip, her motions as fluid as water, quick and decisive. The brawl unfolded in a blur—the dance of life and death distilled to just two evasive maneuvers, followed by a resolute disarmament that rendered him powerless.
To her bewilderment, what had transpired felt like second nature; the combat instincts embedded in her were as instinctive as breathing. Relying on a newfound amalgamation of acute perception and reflex, she had subdued a man driven to madness by violence.
The crowd, once clamoring in fear, now stood witness—some applauding, others murmuring in awe at the young woman who had emerged triumphant. Time had moved so swiftly that none had thought to capture the mayhem on their devices.
Benny, drawn by the commotion, emerged through the throng of curious onlookers. His expression mirrored astonished admiration, as though he wished to convey, “I never envisaged, señorita, that you possessed such fierceness.”
Yet, even in the aftermath, Zoe found herself distracted. She contemplated the surge of primal instinct she had tapped into; the desire for conflict roared to life within her. When the knife-wielding man had charged, her thoughts were consumed by that very craving.
Moments later, the local law enforcement arrived in droves, their presence securing the vicinity. In quick succession, they bound the man in handcuffs, and while some officers interviewed shaken spectators, others hurried off to retrieve the CCTV footage from nearby stores.
Their investigation led them to the restroom, where they discovered an injured woman nursing a cut to her arm. With swift precision, they administered first aid before dispatching her to the hospital.
Zoe found herself approached by a pair of officers, one young, the other seasoned, who regarded her kindly. The younger officer readied himself with a notebook, and the older one extended a cigarette in her direction.
"I'm Zoe Carter and... I don’t smoke,” Zoe replied, shaking her head firmly. While she had dabbled with a glass of wine now and then, cigarettes had never touched her lips.
The old officer tucked the cigarette away and introduced himself, “Well, Miss Carter, I’m the police captain here. I’ll need to ask you a few questions as per protocol. Your cooperation would be appreciated.”
“Of course,” Zoe responded, nodding in agreement. Her respect for law enforcement was steadfast, yet a desire to remain distant from formal proceedings simmered beneath the surface.
In this instance, her actions had only been a half-step beyond instinctual. She had merely reacted, swift in her decision to thwart the threat before her. With so many witnesses showcasing her good intentions, she felt little to worry over in the grand scheme of things.
After a brief inquiry, she assured them of her willingness to comply before they would let her return to her day.