The day had been so unlucky that Jace couldn't explain the string of misfortunes that had befallen him.
He stumbled out of the alleyway on Lakeshore Boulevard, the snowy pavement so slippery he felt like he was wearing a pair of out-of-control skates, and he nearly slipped repeatedly.
The roar of the motorcycle was still approaching, like a bloodhound hot on the scent of blood.
His face was flushed red, he was gasping for breath, his chest felt as if it was being pressed down by a heavy stone, and the reflection of Brad's glaring dead eyes and those eerie blue pupils kept coming back to his mind.
He wasn't sure exactly what he was running from, but his instincts told him that once he stopped it would all be over.
The South Side's Red Line L train station was just ahead, and as far as the eye could see, the platform was dimly lit, like a broken lantern swaying in the wind.
Jace rushed forward recklessly, stepping straight through the revolving door of the ticket gate like a high jumper, the piercing sound of metal on metal coming from behind him - the two dark figures still in hot pursuit, the motorcycle crashing hard through the railing, its tires crushing through the ice, leaving a trail of black smoke.
He cursed, quickly determined the direction, and then began to run, he rushed up the stairs, the iron ladder creaked underfoot, and the wind poured in through the cracks in the platform, blowing his sweater hood up.
The platform was crowded with people, off-duty workers wrapped in shoddy thick coats, students clutching bulging school bags, and the air mingled with the acrid smell of sweat and cheap perfume.
Jace squeezed hard into the crowd like an oily sardine, his head down to hide his face, his heart beating so fast he almost choked.
He glanced toward the stairway; the dark shadows hadn't caught up yet, but the arrogant roar was close enough to make his head spin.
He had to get on the train in a hurry and lose them.
A red line train rumbled into the platform, its body rusting from years of lack of maintenance, its doors creaking open.
Jace squeezed into the car with the crowd, gripping the handrail to steady himself. It was crowded and hot, like a closed tin can.
His breathing calmed, but a cold sweat still covered his forehead. He glanced sideways out the window, trying to find the two mysterious dark figures.
However, before he could calm his mind, a dazzling white light suddenly flashed in his mind, as if a bolt of lightning had struck into his mind.
His entire body stiffened, his hand gripping the handrail so tightly that veins rippled under his skin.
The image that followed was even more violent than the last time Brad had experienced it as if someone had forcibly dragged his soul into the depths of hell.
The car suddenly shook violently, the lights flickered and wavered, followed by the sharp sound of ripping metal - the rails snapped and the train derailed, flipping on its side and plunging into the Chicago River.
Shards of glass splashed everywhere, accompanied by the screams of the passengers as someone fell into the water, blood mingling with the river water and flooding it with a scarlet color.
He witnessed a red-haired woman, clutching her briefcase tightly, talking on the phone. Suddenly, her expression changed abruptly, and she was run through the chest by a steel beam; the gruesome scene was unbearable to watch.
The time was set at five minutes later, at 9:10.
Jace sucked in a sharp breath and almost fell over as the drunk next to him yelled at him, "Steady, boy!"
He ignored it, his mind in turmoil, his eyes locked on the compartment.
The premonition struck again, clearer than ever, as if death were whispering in his ear.
He clenched his fists, trying to convince himself to stay out of it, that it wasn't his responsibility, but the woman's face lingered in his mind like a ghost that couldn't be haunted, along with Brad's disembodied, pale-as-paper face.
The radio in the car rustled, "Next stop, 35th Street." Four minutes until the accident.
Jace took a long breath and decided to let it go.
He turned and squeezed his way to the door of the car, pushing through the crowd with a force that drew a chorus of curses.
Crazy or not, he had to stop this disaster from happening.
He sprinted for the emergency brake lever, his eyes sweeping ahead as the redhead's silhouette once again popped into his mind.
He held his breath, staring intently at the red lever.
Time was running out as the carriage suddenly shook and the lights flickered on and off.
He heard the roar of a motorcycle in the distance intertwined with the noise of the train as if the footsteps of death were getting closer.
"Don't pull, kid, do you want to die?" A burly worker stared at him angrily, bearded and clutching a can of beer in his hand.
Jace ignored him, with only one firm conviction in his mind - to save the lives of this busload of people.
He took a deep breath and pulled down the brake lever with determination.
The harsh sound of the brakes cut through the air and the carriage came to an abrupt stop, the passengers losing their balance and falling, cursing and screaming.
Jace was pushed against the armrest by inertia, his ribs raw from the impact, but he had no time to think about that, his eyes locked on the window.
The train finally came to a stop, the rails unscathed and the cars unturned.
He breathed a long sigh of relief, cold sweat dripping down his forehead.
The red-haired lady struggled to her feet, rubbing her arms and glaring angrily at him, sternly questioning, "Have you lost your mind?"
Jace was silent, his heartbeat subsiding.
He had succeeded, he had changed his destiny.
However, just as he was about to enjoy his heroic moment, the back door of the compartment was suddenly and roughly kicked open, and two figures quickly burst in.
The gazes in their helmets were as sharp as eagles, they were dressed in tight black leather suits, and in their hands were sharp short knives, the blades of which reflected a blinding light under the carriage lights.
The crowd screamed and fled in terror at the sudden arrival of the mystery killer.
Jace couldn't help but curse loudly and turned to escape, but the carriage was overcrowded and he was trapped in the center of the crowd.
The dark figure in the lead sneered at him, "You won't get away with this, boy." The voice was cold as if extruded from deep in his throat, with a metallic sting.
Jace retreated to the corner of the compartment, his back against the window, his hands reaching into his pockets to fumble around, hoping to find something to use as a defense, but all he could find was a broken set of keys.
He breathed in sharply, his mind racing as he tried to come up with a good way out of his current predicament.
The black shadow pressed forward, the tip of the knife almost touching his chest.
Just at this critical moment, all the lights in the carriage suddenly went out, and darkness swallowed everything.
The screams became louder, and Jace took the opportunity to bend down, pushing the fat man next to him away with all his might and rushing towards the other end of the carriage.
The lights flickered a few times and came back on.
The two dark figures disappeared as if blending into the darkness.
But it was clear to Jace that they hadn't left.
He squeezed his way to the door of the car, and as soon as it opened, he jumped out without hesitation and sprinted down the platform.
The 35th Street station arrived, the wind and snow making his vision blurry, and the sound of boots on the ground came from behind him.
He turned around to see two dark figures coming down the stairs, knives flashing in the snowy night.
Jace dashed recklessly into the alleyway next to the station, running so fast he could barely breathe, his heart beating so fast it felt like it was going to explode.
The alley was littered with garbage cans and graffiti, the wind clanking the tin.
He ducked into a corner, leaned against the wall to catch his breath, and pulled out his cell phone, his hand shaking so much that he could barely press the number.
Just as the screen lit up, a wave of vertigo washed over him.
He looked down at the puddle on the ground, and in the reflection, his pupils were still that eerie blue color, as if some secret lurked in the depths of the lake.
The voice in his ears sounded again, cold and merciless: "You can't escape."
Jace jerked his head up as the puddle regained its composure, but the voice still echoed in his mind, as if someone was whispering in his ear.
Footsteps came from the mouth of the alley, slow and determined, as if the hunter knew deep down that there was no way out for his prey.
Jace clenched his fists tightly in the wind and snow as the two dark shadows gradually approached, the light of their knives flashing even more blindingly in the darkness.
He took a deep breath, with only one firm belief in his heart: to live.
At that very moment, a low growl suddenly came from the other end of the alley, which both resembled the roar of a wild beast and seemed to be mixed with a human voice.
A tall figure stepped out from the shadows, he was clad in a long trench coat, his figure was tall and straight, his black hair hid half of his unusually handsome face, and his gaze was as resolute as cold ice.
The dark figure stopped and turned to face the newcomer.
Jace felt extremely shocked, his whole body stiffly leaning against the cold wall, chaotic emotions churning inside him that were hard to calm down.
Who was that man? Was he here to save him or to kill him?
He had no way of knowing, but his intuition told him that it was just beginning.