Rushed by Brian Harmon Page A

locked himself in a room with the thing. 
    Out of ideas, Eric simply ran.  He made his way across the rooftop, toward the far side of the building, where the taller portion of the structure met the two shorter wings, hoping desperately that he would find a window he could escape into or a ledge from which he could climb safely down. 
    The monstrosity followed him, snatching at him with its claws.  Its strange, unearthly cries filled the air at his back, drowning out all other sounds, even the thunderous pounding of his heart. 
    Something caught his foot and he fell.  Kicking and thrashing, he tore free of his shoe and rolled down the slope of the roof.  The rough surface of the shingles ground against his exposed skin, but he barely noticed the pain.  His only conscious thought was that he had to keep moving.  He had to put distance between himself and this monster. 
    Coming to a stop, Eric tried to lift himself onto his hands and knees, but the thing was already upon him again, its terrible cries right on top of him. 
    He threw himself out of the way. 
    It seized his arm. 
    He kicked at it, yanked his arm free and rolled again. 
    The shingles bit his elbows, his forehead, his nose.  They burned his belly and back where his tee shirt rode up. 
    His left hand slipped over the edge of the roof and he found himself looking down at a four-story drop.  Hard concrete waited patiently to break his bones. 
    Built on a slope, the building was much taller on this side than it was on the side he’d climbed.  There was no way down and nowhere he could go that this thing couldn’t follow him. 
    Out of places to run, he rolled onto his back and looked up as the monster leapt atop him, its huge foot crushing down on his thigh.  He cried out, his voice tinged with sharp pain and numbing terror.
    The world around him swirled into a chaotic blur. 
    This seemed to be it.  He was out of places to run.  He was going to die. 
    A huge mass of yellow claws passed over him.  His ears were filled with the howling and yowling and shrieking of the beast.  A hot flash of pain painted itself across his face, his shoulder, another across his leg. 
    He felt himself sliding closer to the ledge.  He clutched for something to hold onto, but his arm flailed uselessly at the air high above the ground.  His shoulder inched out over the drop.
    If the creature didn’t tear him apart, he would fall to his death. 
    The creature’s weight shifted.  Its foot rolled across his thigh, threatening to break his leg.
    Claws dug into the shingles beside his head.  The gutter tore away beneath his shoulder with a great screech of shredding metal. 
    Teeth snapped before his face and he jerked his head away, closed his eyes, braced himself for the agony to come. 
    Then the creature’s foot was no longer on his thigh.  Its unearthly yowling suddenly and rapidly receded. 
    A heavy thump, a clanking of aluminum as the gutter followed the beast down. 
    Eric lay there, gasping with fear. 
    He could hardly believe it.  In all the commotion, the monster’s foot had slipped over the edge. 
    It fell. 
    And by some miracle, he didn’t. 
    Carefully, he pulled himself away from the edge of the roof and then rolled onto his stomach.  He was trembling badly.  He did not dare try to stand for fear that he might yet manage to fall to his doom.
    Seconds passed.  Then minutes.  Everything remained quiet. 
    The monster was silent. 
    Finally, he crept back to the edge and peered over. 
    He could see the shredded guttering lying on the pavement, precisely where it had landed, but the monster was gone. 
    Apparently, a four-story fall was as effective at breaking a monster’s focus as a charging tractor. 
    Yet he hesitated to believe that he was really so lucky.  It couldn’t actually be over.  That he should survive by nothing more than a simple misstep on the part of the monster was utterly absurd.  Surely the thing must simply be