I woke up with a start, dazed. I felt like I had been beaten up, a dull pain ran through my body and I felt the blood pulsating under my skull. It took me a few seconds to remember where I was and, as the memories flowed, my brain started to work again.

Something had woken me up.

I tried to desperately probe the outside of our shelter in the hope of determining the noise that had put me on alert. When I began to bend my legs, I had to repress a cry of pain. My sore muscles didn't like waking up and my jeans, stiffened by the dried blood, didn't make my movements any easier.

I managed to get up and approached one of the door's gaps carefully to take a look outside. It was barely daylight. I must have only fallen asleep for half an hour, at most. I understood my headache better. Detecting nothing in particular, I relaxed, when I realized that it was actually the silence that had woken me up. I couldn't hear Jude breathing!

I rushed to his side and checked his pulse. It was weak and intermittent and his breathing was barely noticeable. He had not fallen into a restful sleep as I thought he had, but he was dying. I lifted up the jacket I had covered him with to check the condition of his injuries: they looked exactly the same as before. As if his body, after closing the wounds, had not had the strength to go any further. His skin was covered with a layer of sweat, but most of all it was icy and pale. Then the evidence hit me like a freight train at full speed. He needed blood! Why didn't I think of that right away? But how do I get him some? I couldn't reach anyone or take him to the hospital, let alone get help.

I let myself slide to the ground, in despair. I did all this for nothing. In the end, he was still going to die, and all because of me! While treating him, I had come to the conclusion that the first bullet had hit him when I hesitated to run away. Placed in front of me, I remembered his growl of pain as well as his stiffening body. At the time, I blamed it on his anger, but now I was pretty sure I was right. The first injury weakened him and that's probably why they managed to hit him again later. Oh, my God! My feelings suddenly overwhelmed me and tears began to flow silently on my cheeks.

No! I had to pull myself together, I couldn't give up. I had to find a solution and quickly. That's when I saw the pieces of broken glass that were strewn over the ground a little further away. Before I even understood exactly what I wanted to do, I found myself standing with a broken piece of bottle in my hand, and everything became clear.

Following my instincts, I suddenly turned Jude on his back, before sitting against one of the filthy walls. Then I put him in a semi-seated position, his back against my chest. Once settled, I took a deep breath, cut my wrist with the piece of glass and pressed it against his mouth. While encouraging him to swallow, I gently massaged his throat to provoke his swallowing. I was well aware that what I was doing was, from a medical point of view, completely stupid, but I felt deep down that it was his only chance to make it through. When I finally felt his mouth pressing against my wrist and his swallowing natural, I stopped the massage and put my free arm around his chest to hold him.

After a few minutes, he moaned and pulled my wrist away from his mouth with his hand, before being overcome with a violent gag. I tightened my grip while wondering with concern if I hadn't made the situation worse. At the time, I went with my guts but... My doubts were quickly swept away when his spasms stopped and he opened his eyes. He stared at me for a few seconds with an interrogating look, then he covered my hand which held him with his own and closed his eyes while letting his head rest against my shoulder with a weary sigh. I only relaxed when I saw he had regained some colors and his breathing and pulse were better and more regular.

***

I must have dozed off while I watched over him, for it seemed that hours had passed when I felt him regaining consciousness. A glance at my watch indicated me that only one hour had passed.

- 'We have to get out of here,' Jude suddenly said, trying to straighten up.

His voice was hoarse and unsure, but it was always better than his cries of pain.

- 'Are you already in shape to move?' I exclaimed sceptically.

- 'We'll soon find out,' he growled with effort.

He then began to stand up leaning on the ground with his hands. Unbalanced, I had to hold him before he fell head first on the concrete.

- 'Oops! I guess... not.'

- 'We have no choice,' he said, panting with exhaustion. 'They'll be back soon. I'm actually surprised they haven't already found us.'

Seeing that he was still trying to stand up and that I wouldn't be able to reason with that bonehead, I stood up and helped him, grabbing him with my arms. He was really heavy, but I managed to get him on his feet as best I could. He staggered and then rested on me. I came closer to put his arm on my shoulders.

- 'And now what? I drag you through the rain until you die?' I ironically said. 'Because I have no idea where we are. Why don't you call Charles and have someone come and help us?'

- 'To bring them more victims on a platter if they're still there? Pfff...' he breathed dismissively. 'Besides, I don't know where we are any more than you do. I don't even know how I got there anymore, so as far as rescue is concerned, it's a dead end,' he added, visibly out of breath. 'We need to find a safe and secure place. Only then can we call the cavalry.'

He finally kept quiet, his tired gaze seeming to be looking for something on the soiled ground.

- 'Where are the bullets you removed?'

- 'I don't know. Somewhere on the ground,' I quickly answered him.

- 'Pick them up. We must leave as few traces as possible behind us,' he explained.

Even on the brink of death, he had not lost his authoritarian tone and despot manners. Somehow, it was quite reassuring, even though he was still getting on my nerves! I released him, checked that he was not collapsing and picked up the bullets that I easily found, before putting them in my pocket.

- 'Done.'

I returned to him and he had no difficulty leaning on me again, which said a lot about his condition.

He took a few steps forward and pulled the door open, standing as much as possible in front of me. Ugh men! However, I said nothing and hastened to take us to the nearest wall recess. It was a dull and rainy morning, a icy breeze was blowing from the north, dragging the heavy rain clouds into an endless race. Despite the low light, we were highly visible in the middle of these deserted streets. We stopped breathing and, not detecting any hostile presence, we continued our journey painfully.

I let Jude guide us, without having any idea how he was doing it. After about ten minutes, Jude's condition and mine began to worry me. He was getting heavier on my shoulders and I was showing obvious signs of weakness, tripping every other step, breathing poorly and trembling with fatigue. The rain had also invited itself to the party, turning us into dripping rags.

Having reached a more crowded area, a short distance from a busy street, Jude suddenly indicated to me to turn to the right and enter the lobby of a crumbling building. He told me to look for the stairs and go down. Once down below, we entered one of the countless cellars left abandoned by their owners whose doors had remained open. As soon as we entered the small, dark and cramped room, we both collapsed on the dirty concrete floor, despite the musty, damp and mouldy smell. The only light that came to us came from a small dusty window, located at the top of one of the walls.

We leaned against the wall facing the door and enjoyed the poor protection of a horrible seedy sofa, adorned with large orange and pink flowers. Despite its ugliness, it had at least the advantage of keeping us from prying eyes while we regained our strength.

We were surrounded on all sides by a miscellaneous mess, as well as by various rubbish, probably left there by the various squatters and homeless people of all kinds who had succeeded each other. The soil was stained with suspicious stains and the smell of urine was beginning to replace the smell of moisture, but it was the least of our worries. As long as we were safe and could have a little break, I was ready to sit anywhere, or almost anywhere. I sighed with both weariness and relief and took a look at my watch, more out of reflex than anything else. I then shouted in horror.

- 'What, what's going on?' Jude asked haggardly, as he looked frantically and worriedly around him.

He was painful to see with his drawn features and pale complexion. His clothes were covered in blood and his long, soaking wet hair dripping on either side of his face made him look like a drowned rat! Upon reflection, I must not look any better than him! If the mysterious men who were after us were coming after us now, we were done for.

- 'Nothing,' I said, with a joyless laugh. 'I just realized I have an appointment with Inspector Worth in exactly... forty minutes. In other words, I already have an arrest warrant on my ass, because one thing is for sure, I won't make it there! Even if that's not the most important thing right now.'

I saw him take something from the back pocket of his pants, which he threw on my lap in an approximate gesture.

- 'Here! Call him and try to be convincing. We really don't need to have the police on our ass any more than we already do,' he grunted in a tired voice. 'And most importantly, once you're done... turn off the phone!'

- 'Are you kidding me?'

He didn't even bother to answer me and managed to give me a convincing glare, despite his exhausted face. I sighed as I searched for the police station's number on the Internet, then proceeded to dial it slowly, while I tried desperately to find something to say to explain this setback.

- 'Yes, what can I do for you?' a man replied in a jaded voice while chewing gum and forgetting half of the introductory sentence.

- 'Is Inspector Worth there, please?' I said with my most beautiful zealous secretary's voice. 'I have an appointment with him in forty minutes, but I can't be there. I would have liked to apologize and ask him if we could postpone it until tomorrow without fail?'

I held my breath while waiting for his answer, while praying that Worth would not be there. If by any chance he picked up the phone, I didn't think I could trick him as easily as this guy.

- 'Nah, he hasn't arrived yet,' he replied between two chewing noises. 'You are?'

- 'Christina Jones. Tell him I'm sorry for the inconvenience and I'll be there tomorrow at 10:00am. No fail! Thank you.'

I hung up quickly before he had time to ask me for more details and breathed a deep sigh of relief.

- 'Here,' I said to Jude, holding out his phone with an apathetic grip, before I realized that he had fallen asleep.

I took the device back and turned it off as he had asked me to, so that Inspector Worth could not trace the call and find out where we were. Which he would do without a doubt as soon as he got the message. I took another look at Jude when I spotted the knife attached to his ankle for the first time.

I got up painfully and went to get the weapon back fighting for a few moments with the leather sheath in which it was stored. He didn't move, nor did he wake up when I took it, then I went back to sit in the shelter of the beautiful flowered sofa while making sure to keep an unobstructed view of the cellar door. With the knife in my hand and on my lap, I stared at the door, hoping with all my strength that it would remain closed. Even if the weapon reassured me a little, it would not be of much help to me when dealing with guns. Besides, with Jude out of order for a little while longer, I was our only line of defense. Pathetic! I gently shook my frustrated head and asked myself for the hundredth time at least, how I had managed to get there. It was at that moment that my gaze drifted, almost in spite of myself, towards the sight that Jude was offering while asleep.

Seated on the floor, restrained only by his shoulders to relieve his injuries, he had stretched his legs out in front of him, his feet resting against the corner of the sofa. His left hand rested on his injured thigh and his right hand on the floor. His head resting on his right shoulder, his features were finally relaxed despite the trials we had just gone through. I realized that it was the first time I had seen his face relaxed and unaltered by anger or by his endless sardonic smile. He was so beautiful! Too bad his attitude doesn't match his looks. I suddenly turned my gaze back to the door with a little annoyed slam of my tongue, while a feeling of embarrassment invaded me and made me blush. What was I thinking? Nonsense... With a deep sigh, I settled down again as uncomfortably as possible so as not to fall asleep and prepared myself for a long and boring watch.