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Their hideout was a fourth-storey apartment close to the harbour. Gutted and empty, the bare walls gave the dismal impression that the place had never been lived in, had never even seen furniture. But it had blinds; every now and then police sirens would throw the tiny living room into blue silhouette, making them all freeze. There was also a working refrigerator, an oven, and a bed, and at the moment that was all Faith could think about.

It took her the agonising walk up the stairs (the elevator was out of order) for it to sink in that, after three weeks of almost constant running, she had never been so exhausted in her life. Her sister let her in and immediately embraced her. In return she leaned on her, thankful for the support. Her muscles, usually so dependable, tortured her with even the slightest movement; but worse was the mental exhaustion. It was like her own mind was calling on her to shut down, give up, just lay down where she was. Even the adrenaline rush of running had become a short-lived relief.

Kriegg came up and nodded in his anxious, uncomfortable way. She could feel their eyes following her as, head hung, she slumped against the wall and allowed her legs to give way. Her calves cramped almost immediately. She knew she couldn't run again tonight, for anything.

If they were found now they were as good as caught.

"You oughta be more careful," Kriegg put in awkwardly.

Faith, her head leaning on her chest, wondered idly whether, given the choice, Kriegg would take her, or the bag of IDs she'd lost.

"I'm gonna go get some sleep," Faith said, though she knew she wouldn't be allowed to. Kriegg still wanted answers, even though he must have guessed what happened after she failed to patch him back in. She would have fallen asleep right there, quite happily, if only she didn't know that he would wake her up again.

"You mind telling us what happened?" he asked, attempting to be jovial. "We thought you could have been killed."

Here it comes.

"Anyway, where'd you stash the bag, Faith? Where is it?" He looked at her as though he were expecting it to miraculously appear. She didn't reply.

He already knew she'd lost it; he had the moment she walked in. Yet still he looked at her as though he were discovering this for the first time.

"You got it, right?" he ventured. "You got it."

Kate already knew the answer, knew where this was going; Faith had glimpsed her sister tense, preparing for the inevitable. But she truly didn't want this. How could she deal with it now, in this state?

She took a deep breath, her face cradled in her arms, elbows resting on her knees.

"I lost it in the escape."

She didn't see their reactions. But she could guess. It was like they'd only just learnt.

But she knew how they felt. No bag meant no escape, just long weeks of no sleep, no food, no safety at all, not even for a second. Worst of all it meant long weeks of more running, just to stay ahead, to keep out of the executioner's chair. The thought was so awful that Faith found she was bitter now, furiously bitter. She looked up. Kriegg was stumbling around like a blind man.

"How could you lose it?" he whispered. "How could you blow it?"

"I had to," Faith said shortly. "I had no choice, okay."

"It was our only chance. We might as well turn ourselves in."

"Don't even say that!" Faith snapped.

"Hang ourselves right now."

"Will you shut the hell up!"

"I can't believe you blew it."

Kriegg had gone and stood in the doorframe to the kitchen, his arms on each side, his back to her. In the failing light of the evening he was silhouetted like a cross. He was about to speak again when sirens suddenly whirred. All of them froze, waiting as the slats between the blinds turned bright blue, then slowly darkened again.

"Maybe you should go next time," Faith breathed at him. "Put your life on the line."

"If there is a next time!" Kriegg roared.

"Don't argue!" Kate put in. "Don't start this. What's the point?"

Kriegg looked over his shoulder furiously. "The point? The point?" He turned back to Faith, glaring. "That may have been our only shot at getting out of this damn city and you friggin' blew it, Faith! How could you do this to us? You've ruined our only chance!"

Kate stared at him in disbelief, but Faith had curled up again, still as a corpse. Kriegg, taking it for insolence, stepped forward and stood directly over her.

"Maybe I should have expected it, huh Faith?" he sneered. "After all, trouble and the Blues follow you everywhere. Merc, Ropeburn, Miller. So many people have got killed around you it's unreal. After all this don't you wanna escape?"

Faith still didn't answer but her fists were clenched, her knuckles turning white. Kriegg was bending over her, almost in her face.

"What's wrong with you? How could you do this to us?"

"Stop it!" Kate forced herself between them, her arms wrapped around Faith's neck. Kriegg glared at her, expecting her to move, but she only glared back, angry and unfazed. "Get a hold of yourself," she hissed. "Kriegg, just get control of yourself. I'm just happy you survived, Effy. You could have been killed."

She leaned closer to her sister, trying to make eye contact, but Faith's face was buried tight in her arms.

"Don't try to do it again, sis," Kate whispered to her. "Don't keep going out on these runner missions. We'll find another way out."

"There is no other way out," said Kriegg bitterly. "We run or we die." Yet somehow, faced with the two sisters locked together, he seemed to have calmed. He looked almost uncomfortable again.

"I'll go get us some food," he muttered; almost like an apology. But at that moment more sirens blurred into hearing range, and grew louder. When the blue stripes between the blinds failed to dim, Kriegg went over to the window. Faith was looking up now. Kate, anticipating what was coming, clenched her arms a little tighter.

"They here?" Faith asked.

Kriegg just nodded.

"Okay."

Faith rose, struggling to find some life in her leaden limbs. She knew she couldn't run anymore, she knew it in her mind, but her body went through the routine of warming up like a machine on automatic.

Kate shook her head in sad incredulity. "You don't have to. You don't."

"I do," said Faith quietly. "If it'll let you escape, I'll distract them."

She turned to Kriegg.

"You running too?"

For all the three days had done to her, it had done worse to him. Kriegg was a shell of his former strength. His eyes were sunken, and when he moved his feet dragged. He began to speak but she waved him down.

"Forget it- I'll go."

"Thanks, Faith," he said quietly. "Thanks for that. And everything else."

She nodded, thinking this was the closest he could get to apologising to her. But at the same time she thought she detected in his voice the slightest hint of irony.

When Faith finally woke, it was to an eight-by-four foot cell, a pounding headache, and a cramp in every corner of her body. The shock of her new surroundings was such that she sprang up in bed and hit her head directly on the bottom of the top bunk. The metal rungs resounded gleefully.

It took a few minutes for the truth to sink in

She was in a prison cell.

For a moment the thought was baffling. How could this have happened? She tried to think. Where had she last been? Running from the blues. Distracting them so Kriegg and her sis could escape. Had it worked?

It had… she thought. Yes, she remembered leaping from the apartment block into the streets, then back into the rooftops; she remembered the sound of the police choppers on her heels. But then she had been caught. Caught by…

Drake.

She remembered now. It had been Drake. He had tricked her, ambushed her.

Betrayed her to the blues.

Drake…

He was one of the few people she had never believed would turn on them. That thought was like ice water on her brain. She felt sick; there was a lump in her throat that wouldn't budge. She had stood to look around but now she sat down again.

Drake, what changed?

She had only been awake several seconds when the cell door opened. In the doorway stood a short, lean security guard with cold lips curled into a permanent expression of disgust. Faith had instinctively curled onto her toes to jump him, when she noticed the two PK troopers, to his either side.

He regarded her with a well-practiced stare of contempt, then introduced himself as Lt. Taroque.

"You're not really a lieutenant, are you?" mocked Faith glaring at him.

"Another comedian," said Taroque dryly. "Great."

"Whatever you want, I'm not co-operating."

"Relax," said Taroque, "I'm just here to take you to your solicitor. I don't want any trouble."

"Could have fooled me." Faith gestured with a nod to the PK guards.

"They're just here for extra security. You know, so you don't escape."

"You don't need to worry, I'll get out."

They stared at each other for a few seconds like circling sharks, sizing each other up. Finally Taroque drew a long breath, making a point of placing his hands firmly behind his back.

"This is a maximum security prison. There are PK men everywhere, and a single alarm can lock down the entire place. So don't try anything. If anyone gets hurt because of you," he paused, his tone making it unmistakeably clear that his formal demeanour was just a ruse. "If anyone is injured in any way… I'll take it personally."

He drew back and resumed his formal stance. "Anyway. I hope that you won't resist whilst you are restrained. Your lawyer is waiting to discuss your arraignment."

Her lawyer was a bald man with a patronising tone, who talked to her as though she were an especially stupid child, whilst at the same time making no attempt to disguise his annoyance at getting landed with her.

"I'll spare you the technical side of things," he said, then paused dramatically.

"Just plead guilty to everything and you may escape the death sentence."

It didn't get less technical than that, but at arraignment Faith pleaded not guilty to every charge anyway. Mostly she was focusing her attention on a way to escape. The authorities, unfortunately, had taken no chances, and the place was locked down like a fortress.

She had known she would plead not guilty even before seeing her lawyer. In fact she'd known it unconsciously for years, probably since the day she had dedicated herself to running. That way she could force a trial, which could buy her anywhere from nine months to a few days to try and escape. Given the system, however, it was unlikely they'd let her sit in jail waiting for long.

As confident as her arraignment might have seemed, sitting back in her cell later, Faith's mind started to churn with the thought of just how close her execution really was; just a door away it seemed, the chair physically waiting for her, in the same building. What had once been only a distant threat had become a very real possibility.

Assuming she didn't escape, of course.

Sorry that this chapter is so short. The next and final chapter is actually very long, well over 5000 words. I would have broken it up but it seems to work best as a unit. Hope you enjoy. Last post on Thursday!