"Escape"

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the character from Dark Angel. If i did, i wouldn't be writing fan fiction...

One shot unless i get enough positive feedback.

From Max's point of view. Begins after the last episode of season 2 as Max and Alec escape Jam Pony. The whole world has learned the truth about them.

The glass of the window shattered behind me. I ran, wishing I could escape. I knew there was little hope, but a small part of me believed I had a chance. So I ran, not through knowledge, but through faith. The belief that somewhere there was a place that I would be safe. I had left Alec long ago, judging our best chance of escape to be separately.

I slowed down as I entered a narrow alleyway. Light shone from windows in the buildings around me. I could smell the faint scent of cooking and realized that it must be dinner time. I had been running for hours. I heard voices and pushed myself close to a wall, shrouding myself in the darkness. The voices grew louder and I held my breath, desperate not be caught. A shadow fell across the alleyway and the hulking figure of a man was visible, bathed in the glow from the street lamps behind. My mind told me that this was it, the end of the road. All hope was lost. The figure breathed deeply and grinned, the light glistening off dazzling white teeth. He strode forward and grabbed my by the hair. I screamed as I was dragged out of the alley. I felt cold metal press hard against my skull and I fell silent.

"Didn't I tell you, you couldn't run from us?" a male voice growled. "Didn't I tell you, you can't run from the past?"

A van slowed and stopped before us. I was thrown into the back and the door slammed shut behind me. I heard the lock click. I was trapped.

My heart was pounding and my mind was racing, as panic set in. It really was the end this time. I had tried to run and failed. I had tried to escape but it was all in vain. Nothing could save me now.

I imagined all the things I could have done. I cried, silent tears, not for me, but for those I love. Those whom I would never see again.

The door slid open and I looked up to see a large man, dressed in black. He grinned, his eyes laughing, taunting me. He grabbed my ankle and I kicked, desperately trying to gain any advantage. His smile disappeared and he grabbed my by the shoulders, pulling me closer to him. He raised his arm to hit me, and as he did I kicked, both feet into his stomach. He stumbled backwards and I seized the sudden opportunity. I scrambled out of the van and ran, not thinking clearly, instinct taking over. I heard yelling and a gunshot. I ran faster. Another gunshot, and the window next to me shattered. I ran faster, harder, the world a blur around me. I ran for what seemed like hours, running until I no longer could. I stopped to catch my breath and became aware of the silence around me. No wind, no sign of life. All I could hear was the pounding of my heartbeat in my ears. I jumped as a crash sounded behind me. I turned to see a cat, rummaging through a trash can for it's evening meal. I sighed in relief and turned away. I went to walk away, but my path was blocked. I screamed as the pipe connected with my cheek. I blacked out.

I woke to a dark room. I sat up and gasped as I felt the pain from the blow. I breathed deeply, slowly, trying to numb the pain. As the pain subsided, I looked around. I was alone, unbound in an empty room. No furniture, no windows, a single door and a fluorescent light bulb. A faint odour hung in the air, that of a room unused for years. I recognized this as what i had desperately been running from. Captivity. The cell i had escaped from long ago. Exhausted and disheartened, i lay down and slept.

I woke as the lock on the door clicked. I sat bolt upright as the door opened. I watched suspiciously, as a tall, thin man walked in carrying a tray. He placed the tray down and backed out of the room. I stood up, walked over and looked at the tray. On it was a bowl of cold soup and a stale piece of bread. Realizing how hungry I was, I devoured them. I finished and leaned back. I surveyed my surroundings looking for any sign of weakness, any way of escape. At what I guessed was lunch time the thin man came back with another tray of soup and bread. Again at dinner time. This continued for what I guessed was days. Same meals, same routine. I began to formulate plans. I wanted to escape, and I was going to. I think it was about my fourth day in the room, and I was awakened, in the early morning by the sound of fighting outside the door. The door burst open and two men stepped into the room.

"You're coming with us," they told me. I didn't object. Better to let them think I had no chance of overpowering them. A sack was placed over my head and my arms were tied. I was led out and thrown back into the van. The ties on my arms were removed and the door was slammed shut. The van began to move and I sat up against a wall. A rattling noise made me look around to find metal shelving attached to the wall I was leaning on. I reached up and the shelving came off. It was heavy. I began to think. How did I get away last time? How could I use this to my advantage. I began to formulate a plan.

When the van stopped I stood up and walked over to the door, piece of shelving in hand. The door opened and I swung the shelving as hard as I could. It connected with a sickening crack, and the body fell limp, half falling out of the door. I climbed out onto the street, shelving in hand just as the driver climbed out of his door.

"Don't move," I said coldly.

He ran at me. I closed my eyes and swung. I waited for the tackle, but it never came. I opened my eyes, to find the driver slumped against the van, blood seeping from a wound in his head. I was hysterical. I ran down the street to find I was in the middle of a busy city in the middle of the day. There was people everywhere. I tried to stop someone, to get them to help me. People didn't want to help. They didn't want anything to do with me. Person after person walked by me without a second glance. I screamed, pushing through the crowd, trying to get someone's attention. I threw the shelving through a restaurant window. Everybody around me screamed and ducked. I stumbled wildly, blindly through the crowds of people on the ground. Someone grabbed me and pulled my arms behind my back. I dropped the shelving, and didn't try to fight. What was the use in fighting anymore? I was led away from the crowds and put into a police car. As the car began to move, I smiled to myself. I was finally safe. No-one could get me in here. I killed one, but there were others, those I had wronged, looking for me. But where I was going there was no way for them to get me. I had gained myself temporary asylum. But not forever. I realize now that I can not escape my past. No one can.