Chap 3

In the cold, constant, falling rain, Kirie crawled into a crevice in the caved-in ruins of a building and cast a timid look at his surroundings. It was pitch-black, without even the faint glow from the street lights. Nothing was slinking through the shadows. There was only the steady drumbeat of the unremitting rain.

He held his breath. Didn't move a muscle. But unable to calm the anxieties that covered him like a damp blanket, he raised his wavering eyes, and with fear in his heart crawled back into the rain.

Where could he go? What refuge would be best? Kirie had no idea—he only knew that he had to get away. That driving compulsion hammered inside his skull.

He drove his unsteady legs onward, stumbled, fell. Got to his feet again, limbs trembling. He didn't have time to feel pain.

He finally noticed he was getting closer to the Colony. His heart beat raggedly. His shoulders heaved. A sharp cramp pierced his sides. His dragging feet felt as if they were encased in concrete. The cold penetrated him to the core, making his teeth chatter. But he couldn't rest.

He had to keep going, one foot ahead of the next. He had to put as much distance between them as possible.

Hugging the walls, he crept down the dirty, drab alleyways.

But there were limits to what willpower alone could accomplish. And the pounding rain only ate away at his resolve.

He staggered and collapsed and sprawled in the dirt and garbage. His body was so limp and depleted he could not push enough strength into his legs to get to his feet again.

Finally, a moan escaped his lips. As if the cord of his will had finally snapped clean, the tears poured out of him in a seemingly endless stream. His weeping at last dissolved into a small, wordless hiccup, as if he'd managed to bite down to the kernel of his despair and spit out the husk. He stared up at the sky, lost in its great vastness, and cried out in delirium.

"Somebody—help—me—please! I don't want to die. Help me, Riki—!