You don't even notice the chill in your feet anymore once you make a run back to the house. A surge of adrenaline drives needles across your body, your muscles tense into pistons. You catch a fleeting image of the man over your shoulder just before you slam the door close.
He's full of joy. Beneath the flop sweat coating his face and the deathly grey pallor of his skin, he's smiling from ear to ear.
Once the door closes, you fasten the locks, feeling their mechanisms catch. Your hand doesn't leave the door knob.
You take a deep breath, waiting for your heart to stop pounding its way out of your ears.
When the adrenaline wears off, you hear silence at first, and then a light rattle of breathing.