The rain didn't come in drops; it came in layers. It hung like a second sky over the city, ran down the walls in streams, pooled in the cracks of the asphalt, and swept away anything that wasn't firmly anchored. Lina ran. Her shoes filled with water at every step, releasing it again with a squelching sound. Beside her, Alaric stumbled, one hand on his ribs, the other clenched into a fist, as if he could use it to hold onto the air.
"Just... one more block," he pressed out.
"You're bleeding," she said without looking. She could smell it. Iron. Warm against the cold.
"Later."
Behind them, a voice barked through the alley. "Left! They went left!"
A second echo, deeper, more practiced. "Don't lose them. M1 wants them alive."
Lina exhaled through her teeth. M1. The codename crawled like frost up her spine. Don't say it, she thought. Don't think it. Run.
