In the Concrete Jungle of the Night

Of all the things that I thought would go wrong tonight, the tiger is by far the strangest.  Sure, a store might have alarms, cameras, locking windows, that type of stuff, but a tiger?  That was new.  Worse than that, it not only embodies my fear of large predative felines, it happens to be some sort of ghost tiger too.

I got in the window easily enough, it was a cheap window on the shop, and I'd seen no security cameras last week when I'd cased it.  Just in case I was wearing a hood and a mask.  An Abe Lincoln mask, which I thought was a nice touch, what with my intent to "free" some property tonight.  It was an old, worn down shop in chinatown, the kind where you're not sure what half of the things even are, but I'd had my eye on some of the more expensive looking jewelry, and maybe a sword or two if my dufflebag would fit them, which it had.

The swords had not been the problem, they came off the shelves from behind the counter and slid easily into the bag.  The problem came when I picked up the necklace.  It looked old, Buddhist, but it was still polished and fancy looking.  Thing was, I head a low, deep growl when it left the shelf.  Maybe the "not for sale" sign next to it should have tipped me off.  Anyway, I knew enough to say that that was a very bad sign, so I bolted to the door.

I really shouldn't have looked back.  Slinking out from behind the counter, the tiger growled again.  The door wasn't locked, that was the first thing I'd done once I was in through the window, just in case I needed to get away quick.  Fear always seemed to make me think faster, thankfully, so the door was open, locked, then shut again and I bolted.  Farther down the street, I looked back again.  One of those reflex things that's half curiosity, half wishful thinking.

My eyes met the tiger's as it walked through the door.  It wasn't breaking through the wood or smashing the door open, it was simply walking through it.  Now I'm trying to outrun a tiger that can walk through walls through the streets of chinatown in the middle of the night with just a sliver of moonlight to guide me.  If I thought it would help, I'd probably be screaming right now.

Corners don't stop it, it just cuts them, though they do give me cover from its eyes.  Rather sure that it would pick me up by scent if it ever lost me for more than a second.  Pure adrenaline is the only thing that's helping me on the straightaway.  Still, it's catching up.  My best bet is to get back home and get my car and then get to the highway.  That's two more miles though.  Uphill.

I can hear it growling back there, so it hasn't lost me yet.  I'm drenched under my mask, under my shirt, in my shoes.  Each step I take, each short breath could be my last.  Tigers are fast.  I know the area though, the zigzags.  I practiced in case of police.  I figured I'd only use one or two, depending on where I was, but every single one on the way is a few more seconds of life.

My heart is going to collapse in another minute of this, my steps only slightly behind its pace.  Probably breaking some Olympic records here.  More growls. Closer.  There is no way that I'm outpacing this thing on my own.  It's gotta be toying with me.  It wants the necklace, but I think it knows that it can catch me.

Maybe If I let go of the thing?  Yeah, I'll just.  What?  Ok, it's stuck.  Stuck to my hand.  And glowing.  This is getting worse and worse by the minute.  I can hear the footfalls behind me now.  Closer to the house though.  Car's just up there, sitting in the street.  Do I have enough room to get it started?  Wind sprint at the end or nothing.
Key.

Door.

Ignition.

Growl.

First Gear.

Second.

Ripping rubber.

Flat tire, courtesy of the tiger.

Third Gear.

Barely driving straight.

Receding in the rear-view mirror.

And now it's just standing still.  Safety.  Freedom.  Oh crap, I forgot my dufflebag.