Alison woke early and knocked on her flat-mate Julie's door.
She ate a hasty bowl of cereal, then a carton of yoghurt and washed it all down with an instant coffee. Then she went into the bathroom for a shower. After drying herself, she returned to her room to dress for work.
A recent graduate, she had landed a plum city job in which she was anxious to make the very best impression. The pay offered had astonished her and she didn't want to take any chances with her future prospects. To that end she dressed carefully, if rather conservatively.
White satin and lace bra and panties, matching garter belt, brand new sheer nylon stockings - the room she worked in was rather hot and she felt uncomfortable in tights - a white, lace trimmed waist slip, over which went a black skirt with a very small slit up the back. It reached within four inches of her knees, allowing her long elegant legs to be shown off to their best advantage. A black jacket that matched her skirt covered her plain white nylon blouse. On her feet she wore plain court shoes, not too high a heel, but helpful at displaying her leg contours.
She looked at herself in her long mirror, tidied her blond hair which she wore in a ponytail and smiled, pleased at her appearance. Earrings, necklace and watch completed her ensemble.
Julie appeared before Alison left for work.
"Don't forget I'm going to Barcelona for the long Easter weekend," she reminded Alison. Alison knew her flatmate was going to stay with a boyfriend she had met on a winter break two months previously. She was looking forward to having the flat to herself for four whole days during which she reckoned to catch up on her reading. For despite being a cracking good looking girl, Alison was an avid bookworm.
She had sailed through her degree course without any real exertion on her part, just as easily as she had risen to the top in every subject that had caught her interest. Her main hobbies had been prowling around old churchyards and exploring ancient ruins. Her favourite holiday had been to Pompeii, the coliseum and forum in Rome and Hadian's villa in Tivoli.
There had been a few boyfriends of course. At school she had been friendly with Keith, a lawyer's son. Later she had dallied with several men, slept with a few and dropped them quickly when she found they were interested only in their own satisfaction and not at all in hers.
When asked once what her ambition was she had said it was to meet a nice man, marry and have two or three children and live in the countryside. Not all that much to ask for, one might have thought.
Among her dislikes were men who spent all their spare time fishing, kicking air-bags of whatever shape around a field, hitting little white balls into holes in the ground and other equally futile past-times. Her attitude lead to many arguments and not a few men who fancied her were put off by her disparagement of their favourite sports. The only sport she had ever played was tennis but she wasn't good at it, despite many attempts to acquire the necessary skills.
She did like dancing, music and singing. An occasional party was also a popular way for her to spend an evening. Despite her lack of success with men on the sexual front, she was not averse to trying out a likely looking partner now and then. She enjoyed being courted, even pursued, although it always seemed to end in disappointment.
Alison left the apartment at twenty minutes to eight, walked two blocks to the station and caught the train to the city centre.
She had to pass a derelict block roped off and scheduled for redevelopment. As she passed a gap between two buildings, Alison felt her arm being grabbed. Before she could cry out, she was pulled sideways into the alley. Her head hit the stone wall and everything went black.
Meanwhile, several days earlier...
Mel and his sidekick, Nigel, were on their way between prisons, their handcuffs chained to the van with two other inmates labelled as dangerous. There were three guards, the driver, his oppo and the one who drew the short straw to ride inside the van with the prisoners.
It was late afternoon, windy and wet. A little boy, wrapped up in his yellow waterproofs and galoshes should have been visible a mile off as he chased the hedgehog across the road. But it was close to a slight bend in the road and at that precise moment a sudden gust of wind blew a hedge sideways obscuring the view of the oncoming tanker driver. He saw the flash of yellow late. It was too late to stop so, instinctively, he swerved round the lad.
If it hadn't been for the patch of loose gravel that a recent surge of rainwater had deposited on the road he would have made it back to his own side of the road before he hit the oncoming prison van.
As it was, the officers in the front were crushed to death in a fraction of a second. Their van was hurled aside like an empty trash can, colliding with a tree. The impact was too much for the already overstrained anti-jack-knifing mechanism on the tanker. Its articulated rear swung round overtaking the tractor and crashing into more trees a few yards on from the prison van.
There followed a few seconds of eerie hush before the tanker exploded.
Inside the van, its occupants had shot forward against the steel partition. One prisoner's neck was broken, the other prisoner and the guard were concussed. Mel and Nigel being at the rear, had a comparatively soft landing on the bodies of their unfortunate companions.
Mel was trying to re-orientate himself when the tanker went up. He realised the situation quickly, got hold of the officer's keys and managed to unlock himself and Nigel. Then his hand brushed the side of the van nearest the blaze. The hairs on the back of his hand and arm singed and the hot metal gave of on ominous smell that he recognised as burning paint.
The doors at the rear of the van were part broken and bent. Normally Mel might have had difficulty getting them fully open, but panic leant him strength, He hurled himself through the opening and yelled at Nigel to follow. The pair raced down a grassy slope as the van burst into flames. They paused to drink at the little stream at the bottom of the slope. Wet grass had never felt so good as they cupped their hands full of the cold water. Then they slunk away into the gathering gloom as distant sirens announced the immanent arrival of the emergency services.
Mel had taken the officer's wallet as well as the keys. There wasn't a lot of cash but there was enough to buy tickets at the nearby railway station.
In amidst the crowed city, they soon found a derelict apartment block due for demolition. It would suit them for now.
Luckily for Mel and Nigel, several days elapsed before the authorities became aware that they had not perished in the blaze. The traumatised small boy at the site was unable to tell anybody anything. The human remains had been so well cooked and fused that it wasn't until a full forensic examination had been completed that their absence became known.
Then the papers revealed to the public that two robbers and rapists were on the loose, having served less than two of the ten years to which they had been sentenced for their crimes.
Mel suggested they simply lie low and keep themselves out of sight until the hue and cry had died down somewhat. Nigel agreed. He was slower witted than his friend Mel so, despite being bigger, stronger and more athletic, he tended to be the follower. Mel was an agreeable looking young black man with an easy, open, disarmingly honest-looking face that totally belied the thug inside.
He was a couple of inches shorter than his friend and although he was clearly black, his skin was nothing like the pitch black density of Nigel's.
He had remarked to Nigel that if he wanted to hide in a dark room all he had to do was shut his eyes and mouth and he would become invisible!
Some of the other black inmates had called Nigel, "Nig", short for nigger rather than Nigel. Mel had objected at first. He would have hit any white man who used the word but eventually even he had settled on "Nig."
