She felt his hand on her throat. He was going to choke the life out of her, and then he was going to get back to his victim and finish the process he'd started. Nothing was going to derail him from his lethal mission. Nothing. Not even her.
She lifted her hands up, scrabbling for purchase on his wrist, to stop him from choking her. She couldn't breathe, she couldn't get any air.
She heard his snarl of triumph, a low, guttural sound, and even though her hands were still free, she had no weapon to defend herself. Her gun was gone.
Bucking and heaving against his lethal weight, she did her best to get away, knowing that she only had a sliver of time left and that it was not only her life that depended on it, but his victim's too. Where was she? Where was Sharon?
As if in response, a pool of light suddenly appeared from the doorway beyond. May blinked in its muted glow. Sharon hadraised the bedroom blinds, letting in a flood of daylight. Now the features of her attacker were visible, and she saw his contorted face, the fury in his eyes.
The moment of surprise had loosened his grasp on her throat. Not much, but enough for her to get hold of his fingers and bend one back, so that he gasped in pain.
Finally, his stranglehold loosened. May knew she could get him now. She could take him down. She was going to get the better of him.
But he was viciously strong, and clearly ready to take this fight to the death. His fist caught the side of her head and her head snapped back agonizingly. Then his hand caught her neck again.
He was so close, May could feel his breath, could see the triumph in his eyes. She had one chance, however unlikely it seemed.
She lunged forward and sank her teeth into his forearm. He cried out in surprise at the painful bite, and May wrenched herself away, kicking out at him, flailing with her arms and legs to keep him away while she looked desperately around for a weapon she could use.
Where was her gun? She couldn't see it anywhere.
But she saw a figure, looming behind her even as Burgess leaped toward her again.
It was Sharon, and she was holding one of the pictures from off the wall. She flung it at Burgess with a cry, and the corner of the frame hit him on the cheek, sending him reeling back again.
May used the opportunity to surge forward, on the offensive now, grabbing for his arms, coming up against that steely, lethal strength. But this time, Sharon was by her side, grasping for the other arm.
Burgess wrenched it away, kicking out, and Sharon yelled in painful surprise, staggering back.
May lunged to grab the arm, but the killer turned quickly, his face contorted with the effort, and he wrenched himself from her grasp, knocking her back against the wall.
May had never fought anyone with such violent intent before. She had to stop him.
And she was going to stop him.
She managed to get hold of his arm and hung on for all she was worth. Sharon launched herself back into the fray, grabbing onto his leg this time.
"Don't let him get away!" May yelled, fighting now with a new desperation, because she could see that Burgess was going to break free, he was going to make it out of this corridor, and if he did, he would reach his scythe again.
May was still feeling the effects of his hard punch to the head. She was dizzy and her head was spinning, but she fought through the pain, using her grip on Burgess's arm to anchor herself.
He was dragging them now, with insane determination, using his greater strength and weight to literally pull herself and Sharon along the slick, polished floorboards, his jaw set in a rictus of determination as he headed back to the place where his chosen weapon lay.
May grabbed hold of the doorframe, tugging back against it, but had to let go with a cry as a kick from Burgess landed exactly where her fingers had been.
He turned, grappling with her, his face a mask of fury, but Sharon was trying to unbalance him, tugging at his leg. May felt another wave of admiration for her fighting spirit.
The scythe was so close. It was within arm's reach, and May knew if he grabbed it, it was game over for sure. There was no way that they were going to escape alive if this killer, with his insane strength, got hold of his chosen weapon again.
She pulled back with everything she had, her stomach clenching as she saw his fingers touch the weapon's handle. But she got him away, tugged him off balance, even as his fingers raked her arm.
He was going to make another grab for it, though, despite their efforts.
Now his hand was on it, his fingers scrabbling for a hold on it as May clutched at his wrist, trying to stop him from getting a firm grip, from grasping the weapon that could slice both of them apart.
But with a cry of triumph, his hand closed around the scythe's handle.
He dragged the weapon toward him, with a metallic scream and clang as it scraped over the floor.