Sarafina could feel the fear twisting in her chest like a rubber band. With every step she took through the dilapidated ruins of the motel, she could feel the band tightening. It was as if the walls were slowly pressing together against her. The stale, dusty air felt devoid of oxygen and the tips of her fingers tingled with tiny pinpricks. 

Behind her, Forester came out of the stairwell backwards, pulling Trevellian's wheelchair. He moved slowly, trying to muffle the sounds of the wheels hitting each step. Bennet was already a little way down the corridor. Sarafina could make out her lithe figure in the shadows as she walked around a pile of debris and pushed open the door to one of the rooms. The spear strapped to her back glinted in the moonlight. 

They were in the eastern wing of the motel now, far from the stairwell where they had come in. The walls here were made of crumbling plaster that sloughed off in chunks to reveal the rotting insulation beneath. Rows of doorways stretched away into the darkness, but most of the doors had fallen away from their hinges. The empty doorways let in slits of moonlight that illuminated the chaotic mess of graffiti running the length of the corridor. On the wall next to Sarafina's head, someone had painted a large red face with slitted eyes and a hideous grin. It seemed to be laughing at her. 

It had been slow progress since they left the roof. Bennet had been careful to lead them away from the stairwells that were likely to be watched. With Trevellian's wheelchair, each flight of stairs had to be taken slowly to avoid any noise that could give them away, and every step they took risked sending a foot through the collapsing floor. 

Bennet motioned for them to come to her, and Sarafina followed Forester and Trevellian as they picked their way down the corridor. When they reached the open door, Bennet glanced down behind them then leaned in. 

'This will take us down to the end of the eastern wing of the building. When we hit the end, we'll drop down another level and double back to the main reception area.' 

Bennet's voice was barely a whisper. Sarafina found herself moving forward so she could catch the words. 

'Once we get out, we're still going to have to get away,' said Forester. 'The car is parked on the other side of the building from reception.' 

Bennet rolled her eyes. 'One problem at a time. They're going to be--,' 

Bennet stopped speaking and looked up. Forester opened his mouth, but she silenced him with a hand. 

Sarafina held her breath and listened. The wind outside made a whispering noise as it drifted in through the gaps in the boarded up windows. The rustle of her friends' clothes and the sounds of their breathing seemed intrusively loud in the darkness. She was about to turn away when she heard it - the regular sound of footsteps on the stairs. They had the dull, heavy thud of boots on concrete.  

She felt Bennet put a hand on her shoulder and firmly push her towards the open door, and realised that Trevellian and Forester had already gone through. Bennet followed her and closed the door behind them. 

The room had been stripped of everything of value. The electrical sockets were gaping holes in the wall, and there were chunks of concrete missing where the aluminium window frames had been torn away for scrap. Through a gap in the plywood boards covering the window, Sarafina could see the motel carpark and the petrol station. 

They packed into the small room that had once been the bathroom. Sarafina could see a protruding pipe where the toilet had been, and the floor was tiled with a sickly cream and brown mosaic pattern under the grime. In the discoloured patch of paint where the mirror used to be, someone had spray-painted the words 'I feel more like I do now than when I came here.' The atmosphere in the bathroom was tense and close, as if the physical proximity had somehow heightened each of their fears. 

Sarafina heard a deep thud through the wall. It sounded like someone kicking over a table. 

Bennet swore. 

'How sad-making,' said Trevellian. 

'I didn't think they'd have enough people to check all the floors,' said Bennet. 

'Neither did I. It appears we've encountered someone disgustingly diligent.' 

'Could we escape out the window?' said Forester. 

'Don't be a fool,' said Bennet. She rubbed her face and took a deep breath, then looked from side to side as if the answer might suddenly appear on the wall. 

'There's no option,' said Trevellian. 'Someone needs to eliminate this curious interloper as quickly and quietly as possible.' 

'No,' said Sarafina. 'That's not even on the table.' 

'I don't think you have a choice.' 

'Only to someone who thinks like you.' 

Sarafina felt another impact reverberate through the wall. 

'You have the advantage now,' said Trevellian. 'You can't afford to wait to be found out, and you will be.' 

'They don't know we're here.' 

'They will though.' 

Bennet looked from Trevellian to Sarafina then shook her head as if she was trying to wake herself up from an unpleasant dream. 'We can't risk giving away our location.' 

'I can't believe you've even canvassing this as an option,' said Sarafina. 'What you're describing isn't defence.' 

'We're not in the realm of protectors and transporters anymore,' said Trevellian. 

'This is murder.' 

'Call it what you like. When that door opens, the fact that we're here will be announced to every adversary surrounding us. After that, you could measure our lifespan with an egg-timer. I'd rather not die here because you find the concept of murder icky.' 

'Bennet,' said Sarafina. 'Please.' 

Sarafina felt a wet clot form in her stomach as Bennet unstrapped the spear from her back. She didn't meet Sarafina's eyes, but instead looked intently at the ground. 

'I hate it too, Sarafina, but I'm not going to let us die here. I'll do what needs to be done.' 

Sarafina looked at Bennet. She wanted to speak, but suddenly it felt like her mouth was full of wet clay. 

'I'll do it,' said Forester. 

Bennet looked at him as if she'd forgotten he was there. 

'Let me do this,' said Forester. There was a small quaver in his voice, but his jaw was set. 

'You're not a squadron leader,' said Bennet. 

'But I've had the most combat training.' 

'This isn't a learning opportunity,' said Trevellian. 'Failure is likely to be terminal.' 

'I said, I'll do it.' Forester's expression was irritated, but there was a sheen of sweat on his forehead. 

Sarafina laid a hand on Forester's arm. She felt like she was being dragged out to sea. 'Please don't.' 

'I'm sorry,' said Forester. 'I understand, I really do, but I don't want to die either.' 

Forester wiped his hand on his cargo pants. Instead of drawing his sword, he reached for a combat knife at the small of his back. 

'Please don't watch me do this,' he said. 

Sarafina could hear the sound of footsteps in the corridor outside now. The person searching for them was close. Forester padded across the room and stood beside the door, holding the knife low. There was a creak from the floor outside as someone stopped on the other side of the door. Sarafina saw Forester stop breathing, and there was a second of silence that seemed to stretch for an eternity. For a moment, Sarafina thought that the person outside would move on. 

The door flew inwards with an impact that shook the walls. Sarafina caught sight of a large man with a broad forehead and thinning hair in the same uniform Westlake had been wearing. She could see the expression of surprise forming on his face as their eyes met. 

It was all over in seconds. Forester stepped behind him and wrapped an arm around his neck. He pulled the man hard against his body as his knife came up and plunged into his chest. The man tried to scream, but Forester's thick arm crushed down on his windpipe. The knife was a frenzied blur as Forester opened up puncturing gashes in the man's torso. He pulled him into the room as the two of them struggled, and they toppled to the floor. The man was struggling like a harpooned fish, twisting left and right to try and free himself from Forester's grip. 

Sarafina saw a yellow flash and looked down. The man was holding a radio in his hand. It was the same model that had been on Westlake. It beeped as his grasping fingers pressed down on a button. Bennet must had seen it too. Almost instantly, the point of her spear drove down and pinned the man's wrist to the floor. The radio tumbled out of his grip. 

On the ground, the man's struggles had become convulsions. His eyes rolled back in his head and his mouth dropped open as Forester continued to stab at his chest with a possessed fury. 

'Enough now,' said Trevellian. 'If he's still alive after that, he deserves it.' 

Forester's stabbing slowed and stopped. The sound of his heavy breathing seemed unnaturally loud in the sudden silence. He lay on his back and stared at the roof with an empty expression. 

Trevellian looked at the radio on the floor. 'Did he contact anyone?' 

'I don't know,' said Bennet. 'I think he punched a button.' 

Forester rolled the heavy body off himself with difficulty and stood up. His clothes were dark with blood. Sarafina looked away. 

'We have to assume they know our location,' said Trevellian. 'This is exactly the situation I was hoping to avoid. Where is the closest staircase?' 

'The stairs at the north end lead to the main entrance,' said Bennet. 

'What about the car?' said Sarafina. 

'At this juncture, I'd say we're simply making a choice about the location of our death,' said Trevellian. 'That said, I'd much prefer to take my chances outside.' 

Bennet looked at Forester. He was still taking deep, heaving breaths. 'Are you still able to take him?' she pointed at Trevellian. 

Forester nodded. 

'Good. Let's go.' 

They ran to the end of the corridor and into the fire stairs. They attempted to stay quiet, but their main goal had become speed. Sarafina tried to tread lightly and focus on keeping her breathing steady. She found herself running at the front of the group with Bennet. 

She wasn't sure what caused her to stop, but suddenly she threw her arm out. Bennet ran into it heavily and almost fell, before she caught herself on the wall. 

Sarafina put a finger to her lips. As Forester and Trevellian stopped behind them, the sound became clearer. 

Drifting up from the bottom of the stairwell was the sound of someone crying.