He was breathing hard, feet flying along the cement, legs pumping hard. A bullet whizzed past his ear, and he couldn't help but flinch, he was, after all, only human. He was headed for the mouth of an alley. It wouldn't fool anyone, no-one would lose them, but it would stop the cops following them in cars.

"Keep up Alli!" The desperation was just setting in, slightly tingeing his normally confident voice. He tore off the balaclava as he rounded the corner, tossed it in an open dumpster. More bullets exploded against the wall of the alley, but they weren't from the cops, no, those were Mike's bullets.

"How could he betray us! All our planning, all our work and he rats us out and tries to kill us!" The anger was clear in his voice. Cafas vaulted a stack of wooden crates and kept running. He turned around and saw Allison on his heels. Thank god she got out of there. Over the crates he watched red and blues rip past the mouth of the alley. They'd probably be waiting wherever it let out.

Ahead he could see a chain-link fence, easily ten feet tall. He didn't know if Alli could make it over. He skidded to a stop in front of it, turned, cupped his hands and prepared to launch her over. He'd pulled ahead slightly, Alli was still a few metres behind him. He could hear more footsteps coming up the alleyway. If they were lucky, it was the cops... He doubted it though.

"Trying!" Allison seemed to have more practice at talking while running than he did. She wasn't actually better at the running part, but the tangentially related pieces--talking, jumping over things, looking like she wasn't tired no matter what--she seemed to be better at, so she was keeping up. Mostly.

"Sociopath with no morals. There's a shock!" Perhaps less so for Allison than for him, she was the psychologist after all. But then again, it wasn't like most people were under the impression that sociopaths were nice, compassionate, honor-bound people either. Well, maybe some could be honor-bound, if they were found early enough... but compassionate was out. That was the definition, really. The crates were easy to jump over, apart from the stitch in her side, but she was fairly used to ignoring those.

Allison could have made it over the fence, actually, but getting a boost was faster than climbing, so the help was helpful anyway. More so since she was wearing one of those tight, 'fashionable' skirts and (short, but nonetheless) high heels. Neither were good for climbing. Not that it was likely to make much difference, since the alley was closed in by buildings on either side, but....

Actually. Buildings. Abandoned buildings. Allison really should have thought of that before. While Cafas climbed the fence she found a door a bit farther down and kicked it open.

Yep. Abandoned. Dusty, too, and filled with patches of sunlight that the dust was busy filling, but that was alright. She ducked inside and ran for the set of stairs across the room. "Over here, CJ!"

Shot's rang out in the alley. They narrowly missed the fleeing pair, impacting into the door frame as they ran into the building. Cafas slammed the door and shoved a table against it to hold it shut. "That won't hold him for long, quick, up the stairs!" Cafas grabbed Allison by the hand and began running up onto the second floor of what seemed like some form of semi industrial offices. They got up two more floors before they could go no further, the stairs up had fallen.

Thinking quickly and breathing hard Cafas looked around the room. Another door, leading, from what he could tell, parallel with the alleyway.He rammed his shoulder into the door. The latch blew out of the flimsy wooden door and the rest swung open as Cafas stumbled through it. "Through here, go go go!"

They were standing inside a warehouse, up on catwalks, three floors above the floor. Below was what clearly had once been a factory and storage facility of some sort. Dirty sunlight spilled in through huge, filth encrusted windows. They started running along the rubbish and crate strewn catwalk. Dodging, vaulting, running, checking behind them.

The rattling was clearly too much for a section of the catwalk. They were mere feet from it when it gave out and fell, knocking into the one running parallel below them. It kept falling, crashing to the ground. "Alli! Jump!"

They leaped off the catwalk simultaneously. Cafas flew through the air, hand extended for the opposite section of catwalk. His hand met metal and clasped shut, jerking him to a stop, one hand holding the catwalk, now his only lifeline.

Cafas sounded like he'd been in the military. Or some other group that liked loudly repeating the obvious. Allison was heading for the stairs before he caught up, and certainly wasn't inclined to stop before they disappeared. Which they did after a few floors, of course; it was like reality had a grudge against them. They could run, but not escape; even if the stairs hadn't stopped, they were leaving obvious footprints in the dust.

Cafas found a door (and more obvious orders), and they were running again. Allison did not appreciate the running; it was getting harder. Stopping wasn't really an option, though, so she went. It was kind of thrilling to run when she could see the floor beneath her; kind of terrifying to think about falling, and why they were running, and really much of anything. Also, when the catwalk they were on collapsed under their feet. That was scary too.

Allison did jump; she wasn't tall enough though, and had hesitated, and she missed the next section of the walk. She grabbed anyway, and caught Cafas's arm. The scream was entirely justified, in her opinion.

It was a miracle that Mike didn't catch up with them while Cafas pulled them up; the table must have slowed him more than she expected. He didn't, though, and they'd gotten back onto the catwalk--which had creaked and groaned and at one point popped and swayed, but not collapsed--and were even standing again before another bullet sparked against the metal. "Run!"

The jolt of Allison grabbing his arm nearly wrenched his grip off the catwalk. He held though, for both their sake. Cafas gritted his teeth, screwed his eyes up and, with a sound halfway between grunting and yelling from the exertion, half threw Allison over the edge, pulling himself up after. He looked back in time to see Mike leveling his gun from the doorway.

Sparks flew off the metal around them.

"Run!"

Naaaaah, thought I might just chill out here for a while.

Cafas was back on his feet and running, looking desperately for somewhere to go. They were ultra exposed on the catwalks. There was only one other door off their level. It was across the other side of the room from them. The only path they could take to it would make them run all the way around the perimeter. It was suicide. Cafas looked ahead in time to narrowly avoid tripping on a pipe laying across the walkways.

He didn't see a great deal of options. Ahead was nothing but another giant window, exactly like the ones streaking along beside them. He could see a shadow through the dirt tinted glass, about a floor below them. He could see what they had to do. He didn't like it, but he could see it.

"Through the window at the end!."

"Are you crazy!?!"

"Maybe, but it's the only option we have!"

Cafas hit the end of the catwalk, took a running leap, pushed off the handrail, which he had cleared with relative ease, with one foot. He lost no momentum at all. He shut his eyes and brought his arms up to shield his face. Glass exploded outward as he hit it, leaving him back outside in the sunlight, sailing through the air with a shower of glass.

He maneuvered as he fell, got in position, rolled as he hit the rooftop, and turned to see if Allison was with him.







[ooc. Dialogue from Alli added with permission.]

Cafas was insane.

Then again, Allison knew that.

She also had no room to talk, really. She was right behind him, given the options.

Cafas took most of the glass with him, so Allison was able to set a foot in a mostly clear space of the windowsill and leap from that. It also gave her the fraction of a second needed to spot Cafas and adjust her own leap to not land on him. Instead, she landed next to him, feet first and fell, rolled twice and was back on her feet, if staggering a bit to get her balance back, and with her arms (and shirt) now decorated with tiny cuts. She gasped to get back the breath she'd lost while landing (or perhaps while jumping, either was a valid cause), spun to check the window--no Mike yet, but she doubted it would be long--spun back, grabbed Cafas's hand, and took off again, even though she was still panting to try and catch up on oxygen. "Let's go!"

The roof was covered in gravel; probably the reason they hadn't broken anything landing. It still left vivid footprints, and an even more obvious audible trail; rocks clattered against each other as they kicked them up, and against the wall of the chimneys that were spaced along it.

Cafas tugged his backpack tighter. It had come a little loose from the landing. Allison took his hand and they were off and running. Clouds of dust rose from the gravel as they churned it up. "He's gotta make it across that gap in there, maybe that'll buy us som..." He ducked and stumbled as more bullets ricocheted off the surfaces around them. "The again, maybe not.

Gasping for breath he vaulted a vent and skidded to a halt behind the feeble cover it provided. He searched the roof for somewhere to go. He spotted what looked to be the top of a stairwell. "There!" He pointed and began running through the hail of fire that Mike was laying down, still in the window. Cafas slid around the corner of the stairwell and tried the door. It was open, mercifully.

Cafas took Allison's hand again and started down the stairs three at a time. When they hit the ground floor they could go no further down. He burst through a door. They were standing in a clothing store of some kind. Cafas streaked through, grabbing a few items that seemed like they would fit. Maybe they could throw off the pursuit if they changed outfits. He stowed the new outfits up his shirt. didn't want to give away the disguises.

Another alley opened up across the street, slightly offset from the other. The only problem was that right as they got onto the street cop cars pulled up right in front of them. Cafas slid across the hood of one, kicking the door shut as an officer tried to get out, and making for the alley. "We gotta shake these guys!"

Oh dear God getting through that bullet storm was a miracle, definitely. Allison stopped inside the door, attempted to try to (really quickly, she wasn't stupid) thank God, and squeaked as Cafas pulled her down the steps. Okay, so she'd do that later.

Really, running through the clothing store? How better could they attract attention than that? Too late to walk, though; Allison followed, and when she noticed what Cafas was doing, grabbed something of her own without too much worry about the size. The shorts had a belt, and there weren't many shirts she couldn't wear, one way or another. The range in styles there was quite useful at times.

Allison jumped around the car, instead of over; she'd had enough rolling for a bit, thanks, and her shoulder was feeling bruised. That didn't stop her from running too.

Another alley, and more doors, but not enough time to open and get in one yet, with the police so close. More crates, boxes and trash cans to leap over or off of, and a corner; they turned that, and fortunately there was a door soon after it. Alli aimed for the door. Hopefully it would be unlocked, and they could get in and hide and let the police go past them.

The alley, with all its lovely boxes for jumping over and getting in the way of the slightly clumsier cops in pursuit. Around a corner. And there was a door they could use. Alli was already trying to open it. The door swung inward and Cafas pulled Allison in after him, closing the door behind them. It might just fool the cops.

He pulled Allison into an adjoining room and shut the door to that too. Footsteps ran by outside as he stripped down to his Calvin Kliens and threw on his new clothing. It was, thankfully, completely different. He completed the new outfit with a baseball cap, which he pulled low over his eyes.

"Now we just have to sneak back onto the street without being noticed, and hope the backpack doesn't give us away." He couldn't get rid of the bag, neither of them could afford that to happen at this point. He stowed the old clothes in a bin in one corner of the room.

Cafas tried the only other door in the room. It lead into a corridor, with doors on both sides along its length, ending at a corner up ahead. The cops would be doubling back any minute now, so they had to hurry.

It worked. This time Alli did make the time to thank God; still quickly, but she did. She really couldn't have run much more; as it was she had to use her shirt to dry off her face before putting the new ones on. Fortunately makeup hadn't smeared any with all the running, and the tags on the clothes were just normal ones; paper with a plastic thread attaching them, and easy to bite off in a second.

Hm. Not quite the right fit, as expected; Allison hadn't really worried about that. The (very short) shorts were a size too small, and therefore even shorter and more skintight than they were intended to be; the shirt was too big, and threatening to fall off both shoulders, instead of only the one it was intended to. Well, there were worse things; hopefully if they were seen--Allison could not hide her hair the way Cafas could--the police would spend too much attention on staring to actually see her.

The backpack... they couldn't do anything about. Except maybe... "Let me carry it." She could take her hair down, and leave it over the backpack; that would be a bit of a cover for it. Her clothes and the tags were dumped with Cafas's, and they left.

Clothes changed, backpack swapped, corridor to explore. Cafas half jogged down the corridor and checked around the corner. More corridor, and if he was not mistaken, sunlight. He motioned Allison to follow him, then walked towards the light. They seemed to be in some sort of apartment complex, fronted by some form of store. They were coming from the laundry, walking quickly.

The store turned out to be a cafe of sorts. Cafas walked through calmly, eyes forward, not making eye contact, but not looking away, Like he knew where he was going, and wasn't in the mood for distractions. He was offered none. No one so much as looked at him. He excited with the tinkle of a bell above the door. How quaint.

He merged into the flow of pedestrians, the police cruisers on the street behind them. No one noticed. they were just two New Yorkers, fading into the crowd. "Keep close Alli, and be ready to run." He gave her an easy, calm smile, belying how nervous he was. He had to keep cool, for both of them.

He could make out no sign of Mike as he wandered through the crowd. He was checking around, making sure they weren't being followed, making sure there were no cops, making sure Mike wasn't there. He kept it as casual as he could. Not that it mattered, you could look as shifty as you wanted, New Yorkers didn't care. They wouldn't notice you.

Jogging. Well, at least it wasn't running, and it didn't last too long. Now, they got to walk through the store, without attracting attention. Allison was perfectly happy with that, and followed Cafas out of the store.

The street was clear too... well, or it wasn't clear, but they weren't recognized, so it was close. Allison relaxed, and caught up to walk next to Cafas, allowing her head to turn back and forth, watching the displays in the windows of stores. Or the reflections in those windows, or the people behind them; there was no way for anyone watching to tell the difference.

It was still safe. Allison relaxed more, glanced over to check on Cafas, and smiled. He was trying so hard to be casual and calm; probably only someone who knew him well would be able to tell he was actually alert. Alert was fine, though; it meant he didn't see anything wrong. Allison went back to the windows.

He was walking, watching around himself. He started relaxing. It was looking good. He even began to let himself feel hopeful. They seemed to have gotten away. His pace relaxed properly, though he stayed on alert. People passed them without any notice, too busy with their lives, or the police behind them.

They were standing, waiting for a walking light, when Cafas caught a guy's eye by accident. He smiled and nodded politely. The man though, he held his gaze. His face shifted ever so slightly, but Cafas noticed. His eyes went wide, the recognition it the man's face was unmistakable.

He didn't say anything, he just grabbed Alli and sprinted across the road, narrowly avoiding traffic. He got halfway across when he noticed the officer in front of him. He'd noticed. In a flash his gun was drawn.

"FREEZE!"

Cafas wasn't going down that easy though. He pulled Allison with him as he began running up between lanes of traffic. The light behind them changed and the cars came to a stop, allowing them to dodge between the cars. The cops couldn't risk hitting the civilians.

He hadn't noticed in time, the man waiting for them when he turned into the subway station.

"Nowhere to go now C.J."

Mike.

Cafas ran down the stairs, dragging Alli with him, vaulted a turnstile as Mike began firing.

Allison stumbled when Cafas pulled her arm, caught her balance and ran. The gun and the shouted order explained why, and Allison was sort of relieved; it wasn't Mike. Police would hesitate to shoot; it wasn't like they were murderers. Mike didn't care.

The cars hesitated to hit them, too, and they were able to get away much more easily than they had last time. Not enough, of course; they'd still have a lot more running to do to get far enough. But they had a head start.

And then they didn't. It wasn't intentional, but Allison's terrified expression was visible to Mike for an instant before she followed Cafas over the gate. His grin was visible to her. Allison and Cafas ran.

Adrenaline and fear were too closely linked; Allison would easily admit to enjoying thrills, the way adrenaline seemed to let her run an inch above the ground, and twice as fast as she could sprint. She liked the thrill, and the success when it was over. She wasn't so fond of the burning throat and lungs, the aching muscles, or the bang and spark of guns behind and bullets around her.

The bullets paused; Mike must have gone over the gate to follow them. A part of Allison's mine recognized screams in the background, and she tried to get back that feeling of flying.

From what he could tell Mike had hit someone. Cafas was sorry, but not sorry enough to stop running. Mike didn't want to catch them. He wanted to kill them. Cafas ran down the stairs to the platform, streaking passed people. There was a train at the platform, but the doors were already closing. Not an option. He did the only thing he could think to do.

He could somehow the Police weren't far behind Mike. Not that it helped them at all. They couldn't afford to get caught by either group. Cafas hit the edge of the platform at a full sprint as the train began to move, clearing a gap behind it.

He jumped, sailed through the air, landed, and kept running. He was now desperate. It was obvious to anyone who looked at him. Not that many people would, down in a subway tunnel. It was completely black in the tunnel but for the safety lights, marking service platforms. Cafas kept running, Allison right behind him.