Bloodlines

Run.

Running for your life doesn't translate, in comparison to the movies. On the big screes, the actors are in control, and composed, without a hair out of place. They refrain from showing you the buckets of sweat that saturate every inch of the material you possess, or the ugly tears that stream down your face as you propel your body to move forward and surpass its limits.

I guess this is why Clarke had said I needed to improve my fitness. Oh, how I wish I never gave up my gym membership right about now.

My legs desperately want to cave beneath my body but the rush of adrenaline screams for me not to stop. I push on, keeping up pace with the rest of the fearful shoppers. Mothers weep as they try to shield their children's innocent eyes from the uproar. The gunfire in the distance is ever creeping closer. This is all my fault. If I turn myself in, then this onslaught will stop.

With the decision made up in my mind, I skid to a halt and ready myself to face my eager pursuers. However, before I'm able to begin walking in the opposite direction I'm dragged swiftly from view. Through an open door, where I land unceremoniously on my ass on the solid floor. Pain blossoms straight through my body to my fingertips causing them to tingle.

"Were you seriously going to hand yourself in?"

I blink carefully, to clarify that I'm not in a dream and stare in shock at the person opposite me.

"Akira!" I shriek crawling on my hands and knees to touch him, confirming that he isn't an apparition.

I'm not imagining it, he's definitely real. And alive.

He sits with his back ramrod straight against the white wall, gazing down a flight of concrete steps.

"Yeah?" he inquires turning to me with an expressionless face.

"Yeah, " I repeat slowly. "Yeah? You bastard. You made me think you were dead!" I wail throwing my arm out to strike him with my fist.

Unprepared for my sudden assault Akira doubles over clutching his chest, in the location of the blow I just landed. A pained yelp escapes his lips before he eyes me from under his dark lashes.

"I was wearing my vest, " he explains, flashing me a peek of the armoured material beneath his shirt. "However, I'm pretty sure I've broken some ribs. Maybe a few more now, " he grumbles the last sentence, mostly to himself.

"Sorry, " I offer, "but I don't understand. You were bleeding out."

"That was a blood capsule, " he smirks, "had to make it look real didn't I?"

It takes me every ounce of self-control not to punch him again. Gritting my teeth I glance up at the back of the wooden door. "So what now?"

"We'll take the stairs to the bottom floor, " he says, "we'll need to gain access to a car."

"But we have a car?" I reply dubiously.

"We can't use that now. Rio's guys will be waiting for us, it's too obvious. No. We're going to have to hijack one, correction you are going to have to," he replies correcting himself.

"What?" I cry, "I'm not going to steal someone's property."

"If you won't, we're both dead, " he states simply. "Help me up, will you?"

I release a screech of pure frustration whilst bending to allow him to lean most of his weight on me. Once on his feet, Akira seems more stable so we manoeuvre ourselves over to the stairs. He puts on a brave face until we reach the ground floor, where he stops to peer through the glass pane of the exit. Turning to face me he looks me dead in the eyes, making me want to recoil further away.