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single one of my muscles burned with the strain of struggling against this man, burned and cried out in pain without the oxygen they so desperately needed.  But if I took another breath in, that would be it. 
    Even as I held my breath, the fumes from the rag still permeated my airways.  A feeling of dizziness started to kick in.  I was getting lightheaded.  It felt like I was getting drunk, only a hundred times worse.  Was this man trying to kill me, or something worse?  What was he after?
    One last kick of adrenaline shot through my body. With all the strength I could muster, I forced the man’s hand from my mouth. I must have caught him by surprise, because his hand lifted, and for a glorious moment I could breathe again.  I gulped down as much air as I could. Too soon, the man’s hand was clamped back over my mouth, tighter than before.  He still hadn’t made a sound aside from a few grunts of effort.  His arm tightened around my shoulders.  That short breath I had gotten was a false victory.  All it did was delay the inevitable.  The crystal was my only salvation, and it was nowhere within reach. 
    Even with the gulp of fresh air, the effects of the chemical-soaked rag were starting to kick in.  My muscles were weakening.  I wanted to keep struggling, but I did not have the strength anymore.  I took one last longing look at the drawer where the crystal was safely hidden.  It was so far out of reach. 
    I was beyond panic, beyond any asinine notions of self-preservation.  My strength gave out. I simply stopped struggling.  The dizziness came in full, but I felt an odd sense of acceptance with what was about to happen.  If this was going to the end, it didn’t seem like such a bad way to go.  It was preferable to a death by fire, or…
     A muted thud sounded behind me and suddenly, the man’s arms fell away.  The rag slid from my face.  I sucked in a rasping breath, filling my lungs with clean, blessed air.  I didn’t know what had happened. For one glorious moment, I didn’t care.  All I knew was that I could breathe again, and it was the purest feeling in the world.
    I started to hyperventilate, taking in exaggerated gulps of air as if I expected to never breathe again.  My heart was still beating out of my chest, and my whole body felt raw.  I was in my room. This was supposed to be my sanctuary !  But somebody had come in here to attack me!
    My breathing slowed slightly, and the reality of the situation dawned on me.  Something had happened to my attacker just now.  My attacker.  My thoughts were scrambled, and I was shaking.  I knew I had to turn and look.
    I started to twist in my chair, too weak to rise, when I caught another outline of a man from the corner of my eye.  This one was standing about five feet away, his legs spread in an aggressive stance.  He was big and he held something long, like a club, in one hand.  A lump formed in my throat.  I had escaped from one attacker and had fallen straight into the arms of another.  My heart rate doubled, terror returning with a vengeance.  I filled my lungs to scream—
    “No, no!  It’s me, it’s me!”  A somewhat familiar voice pierced the air, but my mind was too jumbled to identify it.  I had to force my eyes to focus on the second man.  It took a moment, but then I realized who it was.  Rob . 
    My eyes widened, and wordlessly I took in the scene before me.  The body of the attacker lay limp on the floor.  He was wearing all black.  His dark hair was matted with blood.  Rob stood over him, baseball bat in one hand, holding it between him and the man.  The end of the bat was stained a dark red.  Rob’s eyes darted from me to the man and back again.
    “Get over here,” Rob urged.  “Away from him!”
    It took another moment for his words to actually hit home.  When they did, I scrambled up and ran to him, nearly tripping over the body.  The man on the floor was still breathing, which meant he was