A dead end. Bare walls, no doors or windows. I walk deeper into it and search in vain for a way to escape. But except for a dumpster, the alley is completely empty. We are trapped.
Footsteps clap on hard asphalt. They are faster than before. I have no other choice. Hastily, I grab Sam's hand, pull him behind the dumpster, and press him against the brick wall.
"Ty, what -"
"Shh," I do, covering his mouth, "don't be scared."
Then I close my eyes and activate my ability again.
I'm burning up and my head is threatening to burst after only a few seconds. Still, I force myself to remain calm.
Sam's hand presses against mine and this simple touch is enough to cause a pleasant tingling in my stomach. I only now realize how close we are. His breath against mine, his body against mine. He smells the same as he did back then. Of winter; cinnamon and vanilla. How I would like to look into his eyes right now. They might tell me what's going on inside his head. Do they narrow out of disgust at having to be so damn close to me, or do they awkwardly avoid mine because this closeness makes him feel something?
The back of my neck prickles as the loud, heavy footsteps behind me fall silent. The woman from just now has stopped in front of us. Her red hair is braided into a side pigtail and her expression warps suspiciously as she checks the data on her cell phone.
The seconds pass painfully slowly.
Turn around. Turn around, I pray mentally. When the woman raises her head again and her brow furrows, I feel completely drained. I can't maintain my ability for much longer.
"Do you have him?" someone calls out.
"No," she says angrily and turns her back on us.
For safety's sake, I wait another two minutes before I allow myself to exhale in relief and dissolve my ability.
Roughly, Sam pushes me away from him. He leans his head back, just a few inches, yet the gesture is irrevocable. I let go of him.
"I guess that's what you'd call good luck."
"It has nothing to do with luck," I retort. "NOS works routinely and will not rest until they have successfully carried out their order." My hand wanders unconsciously to my wristband. "Sooner or later they will find us."
"Why are we running from them?" Sam confronts me. "Aren't you one of them?"
I touch the wristband under my jacket. "Used to."
"Huh?"
"I was one of them," I rephrase.
"What the fuck does that mean?"
"I ..." I have to swallow. "We have to keep moving."
"Not until you tell me why you're here. Why now and why does NOS have a Subject in their ranks? I thought their job is to kill you."
"Sam -"
Outraged, he looks at me. "And don't tell me it's complicated!"
He knows me well.
"Please explain," Sam adds pleadingly.
"I can't. At least not yet." Slowly, I stand up. "I know it's a lot to ask, but please trust me."
"You're asking too much after everything that's happened."
"I know," I say softly. "Still, I can't leave you alone."
Sam snorts contemptuously.
"You've said that before and you still did it," he almost shouts.
Something rises in my throat - disappointment, hurt, guilt, failure. His words burn my skin and I quickly blink away the salty liquid.
"Please let's move on," I say helplessly.
And there must be something in my voice, because Sam's features soften and he rows back.
"Shouldn't you be in the hospital? You look pale."
"Don't be an idiot. They'd know what I am right away and will notify NOS."
One look at his face is enough to show me that Sam is overwhelmed with the situation. I feel the same way. As long as I wear the wristband, NOS will track me down sooner or later. I don't know where to go. Going back to my team is out of the question. Not if I'm already marked as Renegade.
"I know a place."
"Sam ..."
"No, hear me out," he says stubbornly. " We would be safe there and you could get some rest."
I relent. We don't have many alternatives. Thoughtfully, we move away from the alley, taking advantage of the darkness to move unnoticed.
Little by little, the city recedes into the background. The residential buildings recede and the street widens. It ends at a fence made of wire mesh. Slowly it dawns on me where Sam wants to go. Behind the fence is a meadow and tiny points of light on the horizon dimly reveal a bridge to me. The highway runs directly over a river and under a support pillar there is a small hut. A popular meeting place for homeless people.
My feet sink in after we squeeze over to the other side at a loose spot. The smell of wet earth hits my nose.
I manage to walk three more steps until my legs finally give out on me. A sharp stinging sensation makes my body quiver. Fiery, it spreads in waves and mixes with other, stronger pains.
This time I cry out.
It burns.
It burns terribly. Like something is tearing me up from the inside and peeling off my skin in agony.
"Ty!" Sam shouts, leaning over to me. "What's happening to you? What's wrong?"
His voice comes out of his mouth as a half sob.
Slowly, the pain subsides and I realize one thing: I won't be able to endure another attack like this. I'm at my limit.
"I'll be fine," I gasp, smiling at him. "Don't worry."
A mistake. My attempt to reassure him triggers a short-circuit reaction in him.
Furious, he braces himself.
"Don't hide. Never!" He stresses each word individually. "Not from me. Never from me. So cut the crap and don't act like a hero I don't need!"
Speechless, I look up at him, realizing that the skin under his eyes is thin and little tears are gathering at the edges. His shoulders shake with tension.
"You're right," I say, raising my arm. "You deserve someone who can walk beside you and not move in your shadow." My fingers push up the sleeve of my jacket, showing him the irrevocable truth. "But with me by your side." The dizziness returns. Several times I shake my head, hoping I can dispel the thick fog, but it is too persistent. "... You will only be dragged into the abyss."
I don't know if he heard my last words. It' s unimportant.
With the very last of my strength, I reach for his cheek. There's warmth in his expression and his expression is meek, so he still seems like the incredibly kind boy who handed me a homemade vanilla pudding when we first met. Even now, after all I've put him through, he shows me his genuine concern.
Huh, I think. I'm just causing him grief again.
Then my eyes close and I sink.
ACT 1 - END
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