Anne staggered, the coppery taste in her mouth worse, desperately trying to drag in a breath even as Dante continued to mercilessly drag her forth by the arm. Then the fire in her lungs was almost completely drowned out in a fresh wave of fear as the eldritch howl behind them let them both know the Thing wasn't yet giving up. Dante swore, then swore again as the murky moonlight illuminated the stream immediately in front of them. It was more than twenty feet wide....likely too deep to wade. For them, but probably not for the Thing. Swimming would slow them down, probably fatally. Anne whimpered in despair.

Dante paused for maybe half a second. Then Anne managed a pained squeal of surprise through her tortured larynx as she was suddenly hauled up in mid-run underneath one leather-clad arm, Dante's approach not pausing an iota. She started to struggle.
"*Trust me*, dammit," he hissed, even as the water rushed up to fill their foreground vision.

And then there was a huge lurch, as in one move, leg muscles tensed and uncoiled, and gravity lost its hold. Through her streaming eyes, as if in slow motion, Anne saw the dark waters of Rock Creek suddenly below them, almost leisurely passing by....
The shock hit them and so did the splash of water, as it slapped around boots momentarily as Dante powered up the opposite bank, breathing hard. Even with his endurance, the extended chase was taking its toll.

But nobody could have cleared that width of water, not like that.... Anne was still in shock. She replayed it in her mind again, not finding even any Olympian athlete able to perform that feat. Not with an adult human being under their arm.... Dante set her down again and she struggled to breathe, staggering again for the road with her companion.

"Hope that...bought enough time," Dante wheezed. There was a frustrated howl behind them, and they kept up with a pained jog. In the streetlights coming up, Dante most certainly had seen better days, muddy, wet, exhausted, and with fetid black blood over a good half of his leathers. Of course, Anne wasn't looking so good herself.

"Payphone....my damn kingdom for a fucking payphone. God, I hope Trish is still there." Anne couldn't find the wind to respond and just nodded, listening for any howls or approaching thuds of hooves. The noises she could make out, though, were more and more distant as they got further away on their clamber up the slope.

"Here's hoping we can find something in Woodley Park. Damn, don't know where. Don't get out here often," Dante panted, guiding them for the streetlights. Anne could see the point, once her eyes adjusted to the brightness. This was a considerably tonier area than DNC's locale. Dante continued, slowly getting his wind back, "*Before* Skinless Boy back there gets to us." Anne winced and tried to get up to a mechanical jog. Dante reached back and gave Alastor a premptory pat to make sure it was still there.

As fate would have it, a CVS Pharmacy and payphone were shortly to be had. Anne paced around before collapsing on the curb, too tired to move, while Dante shoved in quarters.

"Hey...Trish? Found her. Yeah, yeah, I'm here. Found company too. Get out here soon's you can, we have a demon on our trail. Cheeze, don't start, woman, do it later. Connecticut and Calvert. What? No. No. Yes, get the plastic on the back seat, it bled on me and it stinks. No, she's okay. Damn fool stupid thing for her to do. Yeah, right. See you in ten." He hung up. Anne just spent the intervening time staring at the street. Dante kept up his pacing, throwing her the occasional look. He himself looked tired, bloody, and pissed off. Anne couldn't blame him.

'Sorry' seemed a lame thing to say in this situation, so the uncomfortable silence stretched for a few minutes.

"I have to ask. *What* made you flip out?"

She shivered. "I don't know. I just....snapped. I'm s...." She trailed off.

Dante sighed. "Annie?"

"...Yeah?"

"Word to the wise. That's a *bad* section of town to be out in after dark, even before. This's DC. That's even discounting skinless horse things runnin' around. I can hack it as I pack heat and heavy metal, and anybody with brains and a memory knows not to screw with me. Trish can take care of herself. But you were unarmed and defenseless." Dante paused a second. "I think."

"...Yeah. I think." She remembered the blaze of coldfire as the Thing was nearly on her. "Why'd you go after me?"

Dante made a snort of irritation and didn't respond. Even in the bad lighting, he too looked tired unto death.

There was some more silence.

Very softly: "Would it honestly freaking *kill* you to realize we only wanted to help?"
This time was Anne's turn not to respond. She stared out at the traffic a minute or so.

She whispered. "...I don't think I'm used to it."

"That's all. No strings attached. 'Xcept maybe for hurting the people responsible. We kind of know what it's like to be in the situation you're in. Hate to say it, babe, but if you thought you were going to be shut of us before, ain't gonna happen now. Not with Skinless after you."

"Oh, fun." She looked up and winced as headlights bored their merry way into her eyes. A familiar hideous rattletrap of a Dodge Ram went to idle mode on the streetside.

"Wow, Dante, you look beautiful, "Trish's voice commented sourly from The Beast.

"Love ya too." Dante's hand gently tugged Anne up by the arm. She followed, limping, leg cramps already setting in. "Let's beat it for home. I'm wiped."



By the following morning, Dante's concerns on Anne's running again were pretty much moot, as she had gotten a vicious cold.