She turns her head to see her pursuers, six of them hunting her down, getting closer with each stride. On she runs, her heart threatening to burst through her ribcage like that thing in Alien. She turns a sharp corner and quickens her pace. She looks behind in the hope that she has lost them but they’re still there, ever present, ever closing. There is no sanctuary, she will be caught.
The tarmac turns to cobbles now as she can hear the pack closing in all around her. She prays for her lungs to find enough oxygen in the thick city air to power her aching, screaming legs. They must not catch her. She can sense them now, right behind her. She looks up and spots a glimmer of hope. Fifty metres ahead. Safety. She musters all the strength she can from somewhere deep within and starts to pull away from her assailants. They try to match her but this chase has taken its toll on them as well and their pursuit slackens as they themselves see the safe haven now just twenty metres away.
One of the pack breaks away and closes on her. More determined than the rest. She can feel them on her shoulder now, reaching for her, trying to stop her getting there but this last effort is not enough as she crosses the finish line to a chorus of cheers and applause. She is safe now. No one can catch her. It’s over.