Splashing. Gasping. Heart pounding. Pain. My senses are heightened as I move the oar with all my might. I can’t stop to look back or he will be given the opportunity to catch up. I grew up on this river, calling it my home, but I can’t help but realize that this is now my nightmare. Normally when I’m here I’m taking in the sounds of golden eagles soaring overhead looking for prey. Now, I’m trying to not become the next meal of the crazed maniac hunting me down. Serial killer. Murderer. Man next door. I used to always believe that actions and events happen according to the greater plan, but what plan involves me fighting for my life on what was supposed to be an ordinary Tuesday?