Mack approached me, knife in hand.
He walked slowly up the stairs, trying to cause suspense, I would guess.
I looked over the edge of the banister that ran up and down the stairs on either side. Grass lay flat at the bottom.
But there was a risk I would catch something on the metal spikes that ran along the metal banister.
I risked it and leaped over.
I winced as my right leg caught one of the sharp spikes.
Mack was slow, too slow too hack me to pieces. I had jumped when he was only half way up the stairs.
He looked down at my leg and smiled. My trousers had been ripped up by the spike. I opened up the two pieces of fabric to reveal what happened.
A huge, deep-looking gash went from the bottom of my knee to my ankle. Blood was already oozing.
"Now, we both have choices. You could either try to run away, then get killed by me, or you could surrender like a good little boy. I could either chase you or throw this knife at you. Did I ever mention I was in the circus a few years back? I was the knife-thrower. I have good aim, in other words." He threw the knife straight up, then caught it with one hand on the handle.
He was good.
I chose to run. My leg stopped me from running my fastest, but I could still run.
I tried to confuse Mack by running from side to side. He just shook his head as he got into his Ferrari.