Stone cold.

Wind bit into my torn body, freezing me to the bone. Cold flashes shuddered through me as my heart slowed its racing.

I opened my eyes to a world drowning in light.

Fire surrounded me, the remains of the burning black limo. I shut my eyes before I could see what was hidden in the flames.

I wasn't sure how injured I was. I just knew that multiple body parts felt like they were on fire. Not in the literal sense. Despite the fire around me, I remained in the untouched circle.

I needed to get up.

Easy to think, harder to do.

But adrenaline still filled me as I struggled to my feet. Judging by the wreckage of the limo, there were no rebel survivors. Not that I could see at least.

I heard another clack as something was thrown at the already destroyed car.

I ran.

I managed to get into the alley between two brick buildings just before the explosion hit. There was little screaming, as if the citizens were aware this was happening. As if they were behind it.

Which I'd already assumed. I'd been in this area enough to know that things like this did happen. The poor people had likely seen a limo exiting from around here and made sure to set us up. As much as I fought for the poor, it wasn't as if they weren't already fighting for themselves. Not to the same scale – they usually did not have the capabilities for planned assassinations. For the most part, explosives were sufficient.

It gave me hope – although not enough. The poor rising up was still uncommon. And there weren't enough people to do anything big against the government. Mainly, they stuck to their slums and merely attacked when the rich passed by.

My lungs ached and blood leaked from several wounds on my body. Most were from being flung across the asphalt. Large scrapes covered my thighs and arms. Nothing lethal. I'd be fine. If I could only get out of here before anything else happened.

I must have jinxed myself, as a moment later, I was grabbed in a chokehold from behind.

"Hello there, sweetie! What a pleasure it is to make your acquaintance," snarled a raspy voice, as I was dragged backwards. A knife poked into my side.

I put my hands up in surrender.

My spine slammed against the alley wall as my captor came into view. It was an older woman who was missing a couple teeth. Her knife now pressed against my windpipe.

"Tell me honey, how many people are dead at your hands?" she whispered right in my ear, her hot breath tingling the strands of hair that'd fallen from my perfect bun. I kept myself still and didn't respond.

The answer was a lot bigger than she thought.

And likely not the people she assumed.

"Mute, are we? That's fine. I can kill you all the same." The sharp knife dug into my throat.

I kneed her in the gut.

Before she could regain her composure, I was running down the alley, nearly tripping with each step. I'd almost forgotten the heels. I ripped them off my feet and kept going. From what I'd remembered, the rebel hideout was a mere couple blocks away. It would be a hard walk. The ground outside the alley was still covered in bits of glass and flames from the explosives. Instead of putting my heels back on, I stuck to the sides of buildings, avoiding debris as well as I could.

It took me five minutes to get back to the building. Nobody else was with me. Without taking a second to breathe, I ran up the buildings steps and slammed my fist into the door frantically.

Seconds later, I heard the lock slide open and a stony tanned face filled the door's opening.

"Call me shocked. The assassin lives."