I've always thought of myself as a strong woman. Not physically, of course. I stand a mere five foot three on a good day, and weigh a buck ten soaking weight. But mentally, I'll admit I've always thought of myself as tough- A hardliner from the days when women's lib still meant something.

  I had to be, to claw my way out of the sucking pull of poverty and establish a career in what was unmistakably still a man's world. Over the years I had been forced to grow a thick skin and learned to control my emotions. I took a fierce pride in my accomplishments and my persona as a tough, modern woman. 

   But now... I was scared.

   I fumbled with the keys to open the door to my car. My heart felt like jackhammer in my chest, the adrenaline blurring my vision and making my hands tremble like a frightened schoolgirl. I was under no illusions. This guy was bad. Manson bad. Satan bad. I had been there. I knew what this guy was capable of and now he was at my daughter's school. Jesus. 

   The key went in.

   I threw my breifcase in the passenger seat, slam the key into the ignition, revved the engine and screeched out of the parking lot.

   As my foot pressed down on the accelerator I fumbled my phone outo of my purse and called my daughter's cell.

   She answered on the second ring. Her voice was hopeful, probably still planning on getting out of school. "Hello? Mom?"

   "Paige." I tried to conceal the abject the panic in my voice, "Where are you. baby?"

   "I'm in the bathroom. Are you alright? You sound-"

   "Listen," I interrupted. "I need you to find a teacher right now, this instant. A teacher that you know. And I want you tell them that there has been an emergency in our family. I'm coming to pick you up right now." I was pleased at how calm I sounded. Someone give me an oscar.

    "What? Oh my God,  what happened?" Paige's voice sounded so small and fragile on the phone.

    "Just do it. Do that right now."

    "Okay, okay. I will mom."

    A surge of panic swelled in me as I realized she might hang up. "Paige, stay on the phone with me baby."

    "Mom, what's wrong? Tell me! Is Dad okay?"

    "Nothing baby. I just really need to come get you."

    Paige sniffled on the other end of the phone, apparantly distraught.  "Okay Mom."

   I swerved through the traffic ahead of me, barely registering the cars. "Paige, are you finding a teacher?"

   "Yes. I'm walking over to Mr. Lanham right now."

   "Let me talk to him."

   Paige spoke to someone in the background and then there was the muffled sounds of the phone changing hands. A strong masculine voice came on. "Hello?"

   "This is Ms. Davis," I began, "Paige's mother. There has been a family emergency and I need to come pick up my daughter immediately."

   "Oh, well certainly Ms. Davis," Lanham assured me. "I'll take her to the main office right now. It's no problem at all."

   "And can you do me a favor?" In my mind I imagined the savage killer lurking around every corner at the school. "Can you keep an eye on her until I get there?Don't let her leave with anyone else until I get there."

   "Well..." Lanham's voice was uncertain, "I have to get back to class, but I'll tell the secretary in the main office to keep an eye on her. She'll be ready to go when you get her."

   "Okay, thank you. Could you put my daughter back on the phone?"

   Paige's voice was trembling now. I could see her big blue eyes tearing up in my mind's eye. "Mom? What's wrong? Did you have- did you have a vision or something?"

   "No baby, but listen to me. Don't leave that school with anyone until I get there. You understand me? Wait for me, okay? Promise me."

   "Okay Mom."

   "Okay baby, I love you. I'll be there in a few minutes."

   "Bye Mom. I love you."

    I hung up and jammed the phone back into my purse, never taking my eyes from the road. My panic began to subside and a feeling of strength took its place. I took a deep breath to steady myself, but I could still feel my skin tingling with a sheen of sweat. Dear God, what the Hell was going on? 

    A red light stopped traffic ahead of me for a moment. I was only a couple of blocks away from the school now.  

    An image of Paige nailed to a cross flitted uninvited through my mind. I gritted my teeth, pushing the thought away, and reached into my purse. I pulled out a nickel plated 22 and checked to make sure it was loaded. It was. The weight of the gun felt good in my hand. Reassuring. After a lifetime of dreams wracked with murder and mayhem I held no illusions about the world. The world was cruel, full of evil people ready to harm me and my loved ones- So yeah, I had a gun.

   And I knew how to use it.

   I looked at my face in the rearview mirror. Locks of dirty blonde hair were stringy with sweat and my blue eyes were narrowed with stress, but my jaw was as firm as my resolve. Mr. Commandments had just gotten on the wrong side of one bad bitch. Hmm, Mr. Commandments. I didn't know when I had started thinking of the killer with that name, but it fit. The name was almost comical. It took the edge off to think of the hideous murderer having such a mundane name.

   The light turned green. I readjusted my rearview and took off.

    When I got there,  the front of the High School had never looked so sinister. I scanned the surrounding lot for the killer from the dubious safety of my car. But my gaze met only empty cars basking in the morning sunlight and vacant expanses of parking lot.

   But he was here. Somewhere. I had heard the schoolbell ring. He was here, so I had to be careful. 

   I turned off the car, scooped up my purse and exited the car slowly. Every shadow felt suspect. My ankles tingles as I set feet outside my car, as if the killer were going to reach out from beneath my parked car.

   I slid one hand into my purse, feeling the cool grip of my gun and closed the car door with my back foot. I must have looked crazy, with my fierce sweaty gaze, one hand in my purse.

   As I approached the entrance to the school I knew I was probably breaking twenty laws, walking into the school with one hand on a gun. Oh well. They could take me to court later, I thought sardonically. 

   I ran my non-gun-toting hand over my mussed hair as I walked into the school. The halls were empty and filled with the weighty silence of a library. The main office was just down the hall. My heels clacked on a section of tiled floor as I made my way there. Where was the bastard? He had to be here, somehwere. Somewhere where he could see me. 

   I didn't bother knocking. Inside the office a plump, elderly secretary sat behind a desk with a plastic apple on the corner. A sullen school boy hunkered in a chair against the wall, his face wan from the florescent lighting and the fact that he was obviously in some kind of trouble. His gaze flitted from me to the only other door in the little room. The one marked PRINCIPAL.

   Paige wasn't there. 

   A genuine anger crackled through my body. "Excuse me, I'm Ms. Davis and I'm here to pick up my daughter. I was told that she would be waiting."

   Perhaps it was my overdeveloped intuition. Perhaps it was a mother's intuition. Or perhaps it was my training as a psychologist. But I knew from the puzzled expression on the secretary's face that my daughter had never made it to the office. My heart fell through the floor.      

   Before the secretary could respond, my cell phone rang in my purse.

   It was him. Somehow, I knew. My mouth dried to a desert as I put the phone to my ear. I knew it was him before he spoke. In fact, it was almost as if I had known it was him before my phone rang.  

   Mr. Commandments voice was breathy, as if he were sexually excited. "Hello there babydoll, guess what I got?" There was a chuckle and a muffled scream came from the background. "But you already know don't you? You already know a lot of things."

   I couldn't talk. The bastard had me at his mercy. I was back in that cave all over again. His knife cutting at my dress. But this was worse. Much worse. Dear God.

   "You know," he went on, "this didn't have to happen. I didn't want this to happen. But you just kept watching me."

   My blood became ice. Somehow he knew about my visions. Dear God, somehow he knew.

   "You just kept coming back didn't you? It didn't matter what I did to you." Another chuckle. "You were really asking for it. Couldn't take a hint."

   I finally managed to speak. "What do you want?"

   There was a long silence and then he spoke. "I want to know why you've been watching me. Did he put you up to it or is it just you?"

    "Who is he? I don't-"

    "Don't lie to me!" Mr. Commandment's voice turned into a shreik that no sane man could make. "You work for the Devil! You're a witch! Tell me! What is He planning! Tellmetellmetellmetellme!"

    I didn't know what to say. The insane rage emmitting from the phone was unbearable. "Listen," my voice took on a tone of desperation, "I don't work for the Devil. Please don't hurt my daughter. I-"

      "Mom!" Paige's voice screeched over the phone.

      "Paige, baby!"

       Mr. Commandments laughed on the other end of the phone. "You think you're the only one with powers bitch?" Another chuckle, "I'll be seeing you." The line went dead. I was left holding my phone, standing in the middle of the office.

    The secretary stood up from behind her desk. "Is everything alright Miss?"

    "No," I answered absently to the ridiculous question. I looked at my cellphone. The number was private. I closed the cellphone and put it in my purse. I looked back to the secretary and said in a surprisingly calm voice, "Call the police. My daughter has been kidnapped."

    The secretary shrank back as if she were looking at the Devil himself. Her face drained of color and I realized my expression must have been a fierce one indeed. Not that I gave a damn. I pulled my revolver out of my purse and squared my shoulders. "Did you hear me?"

    The secretary began fumbling for the phone instantly. Guns had that effect on people. The sullen kid let out an explosive breath of excitement off to my side, but I didn't look at him.

    My whole life I had possessed these damn powers. Intuition, dreams, gut feelings. And I had never really helped anyone. In fact, part of me admitted, it was my powers that had gotten my daughter into this.

   But I had never really cared that much. Honestly, had it ever really mattered to me if I predicted an earthquake? As much as the horror of my dreams had affected me, they had actually been something I had pushed into the background. I had chosen my career- that of a psychologist- to affirm my hold on sanity. In fact, if anything, I had rejected my power. Denied it. Neglected it.

   But I cared now, damn it.

   I closed my eyes and bowed my head. The world went ceased to exist around me. Mr. Commandments was close. Paige was alive. Now was the time. God help me, if there was ever a time for me to have a vision, it was now.

   I saw something. They were numbers.

   I opened my eyes. The secretary was babbling on the phone to the police, staring at me wide-eyed. I flipped open my cellphone with my free hand and dialed a number I had never seen before. A number that I didn't know. A number that I couldn't know.

   The phone rang five times before Mr. Commandments finally answered.