"Is there someone you're looking for?" Even as she spoke the question she knew she wasn't going to get an answer. Because it was as bad as she'd thought. As soon as he turned back to look at her, she could feel it. The man's smell, so pungent now it swept through the office, was not just sweat and filth; he gave off the odor of violence, and all Joan could think about now was: Get Jack out of here. Make sure nothing happens to my son.

She tried to catch Jack's eye, he'd understand her signal, but it was already too late to signal, it was already out of her control, because the man had picked up a chair, a heavy swivel chair on rollers, swooped it up as if it weighed nothing, and hurled it through the air, straight at the window where Jack was standing. Joan watched in disbelief as the chair slammed into the glass, shattering it, the most frightening noise she had ever heard, and then crashed through. It sailed out of the building, followed by a waterfall of thousands of tiny, glistening shards, then disappeared, plummeting to the street below.

She started to run to Jack, yelling at him now to get out, to run, to just get the hell away, but then she couldn't move, something was holding her back. She felt herself rising, being lifted into the air, and she heard her son screaming, "Mom! Mommy! Mommyyyyy…"

At first she didn't understand, then she knew what was happening, what this lunatic was doing, and she didn't want to, but she couldn't help herself: she had to scream, too, right back at her son. And she knew she was hysterical now, but she didn't care, she didn't care about anything other than the fact that she didn't want to die, not like this, so she screamed, "Help me! Help me, Jack! For God's sake, help