Dog immediately whipped around. "What the hell was that for?" he hissed.

"It slipped out of my hand!" Clancy said defensively, blushing furiously and cursing his sweaty palms.

"You just ruined our entire plan!"

"It was an accident!"

Bird signaled from across the square, but then Bishop Nico spoke, and Clancy froze completely in terror.

"Get them."

The crowd erupted into chaos, shattering the silence with shouting and panic. The Bishops' guards ran towards them, but no matter how hard Clancy tried, he couldn't move. His body was stiff with fear. He wasn't even shaking.

Dog's fingers locked on his wrist and yanked him backward. "I should leave you to the Watchers," he growled, breaking into a sprint and dragging Clancy behind him.

"I'm sorry -" Clancy tripped over his own feet and fell on his hands and knees, but Dog didn't wait for him. He just released his wrist and vanished through the doorway. Clancy scrambled upright and took off after him, pressing his hands together to dull the stinging. His palm was bleeding again.

He tried not to touch anything as he followed Dog down the stairs and out the back door of the building. The last thing he wanted was to leave a trail of blood for the Bishops to follow. They had wanted them to notice their escape, but this wasn't the plan. They were going to leave a diversion and escape through the tunnels in the necropolis. Instead, Clancy had completely blown their cover. He just hoped they had enough of a head start.

Dog had already rounded the towers and entered Sector Six when Clancy heard pounding footsteps behind him. He pushed himself to run faster and ignore the pain in his chest, but he knew he didn't have a chance.

"Where's Mouse?" Cat asked frantically.

"He's coming," Dog answered. "We don't have time to wait for him. Come on."

Please wait for me! he wanted to scream, but nothing came out. The satchel bounced against his leg and threw off his balance, and he fell to his hands and knees again. Someone grabbed his hand as he stumbled to his feet, and he looked up in confusion to see Bird's frantic eyes.

"Hurry up," she said, breaking into a run. She didn't let go of his hand.

"What are -" He paused to catch his breath as he struggled to keep up. "What are we going to do now?"

"Shut up and run."

His lungs were on fire by the time they reached the edge of the city. The arch leading to the sixth section of the necropolis was only a few blocks away, standing like a dog with its jaws gaping wide, and Clancy realized that he hadn't been in the necropolis for nearly seven years. It suddenly seemed deadly - the living did not belong in a city of the dead. They were going to die there. And yet if he stayed, he would be caught and punished, and for a moment, he didn't know which was worse.

One of the guards shouted something behind them, and Bird cursed under her breath. "We'll have to split up."

"What?" His heart skipped a beat and he stumbled again.

"We have to split up," she repeated, a note of frustration in her voice. "The breach is on the far end of the wall. Don't know what it looks like or where it is, but it's there. Find it, and you'll be out. Head straight from the city for a day and wait for us. If we're not there after a few hours, keep going by yourself."

"Wait, I don't - I can't -" He tightened his grip on her hand, but she pulled away from him. "I can't do this alone," he said desperately.

"Yes, you can." She flashed him a quick smile. "I know you can. Head toward the morning sun. Remember, east is up."

Then she veered down a different street, and he was alone again.

Every inch of his body screamed in protest as he pushed himself far past his limits. He thought he would collapse at any second, but he forced himself to keep running. The necropolis was only a street away. He could almost see the arch. But the sound of hooves on the asphalt echoed behind him, and he knew he didn't stand a chance.

He practically dived into the nearest alleyway and scrambled back as far as he could. Crates of old factory equipment lined the walls and blocked his path, and he quickly ducked behind them and cowered on the ground, pulling his knees up to his chest. This was a horrible idea. He should have never chased after Cat, and he never should have agreed to escape with them.

And yet he wanted to escape into Trench - he had never longed for something so much before. But there was no way he would make it across the necropolis unnoticed. He doubted he'd even make it to the entrance. Why had he let himself believe that he could escape? They had kept him in Dema for his entire life. It was impossible to get out, or else he would have tried long ago.

The Bishop's horse stopped and the streets went silent. Clancy held his breath and squeezed his satchel closer to his body, his heart pounding like a drum. He could hear someone coming toward the alley, no doubt to check behind the crates. The Bishop was going to catch him. This was it. He squeezed his eyes shut and held as still as possible, but he was sure the Bishop could hear his heartbeat.

The seconds ticked by like eternities. Finally, the horse and its rider moved away from the alley, and Clancy let out a sigh of relief. For a moment, he seriously considered running back to his flat in Sector Three and abandoning their escape plan, but he shook his head and forced himself to peek around the crate. He was in too deep now. There was no way he could back out of this unharmed.

Everything was quiet, so he started to stand up. Suddenly, a scream cut through the night, and he flinched hard enough to fall over again. Panic shot through his body like lightning, and he quickly scrambled back behind the crates, heaving in ragged and shallow breaths.

They have Cat.

He wanted to cry, but he bit his lip and curled up as tight as he could. He had never been filled with this much terror before in his entire life. He was going to die. They were going to find him and kill him. His breathing grew faster and faster until he became dizzy and lightheaded, and for a moment, he was sure he blacked out. He wished Bird was with him. He even would have felt more confident if Dog was beside him. He just didn't want to be alone in this madness. He wanted to get out, but not by himself.

Finally, he forced himself to breathe steadily, trying to calm down. What else did he have to lose? He wouldn't make it back to his apartment unnoticed. He had to try to escape. For Cat, Bird, and Dog. For his friends.

He slowly poked his head around the crate again, but the streets were empty. He slipped out of the alleyway as quietly as he could and made his way across the street, keeping his hand tight around the satchel strap. The scabs on his palm were completely scraped off, and his blood stained the strap and the cuffs of his dress shirt. If anyone saw him, they would immediately know something was off.

There. The arch stood open right in front of him. All he had to do was make it across the necropolis and find the breach, and then he would be out. He broke into a run again, his legs and lungs on fire, and ducked into the necropolis.

The temperature seemed to drop ten degrees the moment he stepped into the city of the dead. Hundreds of neon gravestones stood in rows in front of him, extending as far back as he could see. Clancy paused and swallowed hard, a sick guilt settling in his stomach. He wasn't supposed to be here. He needed to leave. But before he could turn around, he heard shouting from behind him.

"You'll never take me alive!"

Bird. They had Bird. He was going to be alone out there. He wanted to go home, but the screaming from the streets forced him to run again.

Everything was going so wrong.

"There's another one. Find them and bring them to me. They're wounded."

Clancy didn't think he had the energy to run any faster, but suddenly he was sprinting through the necropolis, pure terror biting at his heels. The bright neon blurred past him as if he was running through some sort of dream, but though he could barely see where he was going, he didn't stop. He couldn't stop. His body wouldn't let him. He ran until he collapsed at the base of the outer wall, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. His mouth filled with the slight taste of blood, and he swallowed with difficulty. He couldn't give up now. He was so close.

He could hear hoofbeats behind him, approaching rapidly. He only had a few precious seconds to find the breach and escape, but he could barely stand. His legs were jelly and he had to lean most of his weight up against the wall to even keep his balance.

Bird had said the breach was along the east side of the wall. It could be anywhere. He didn't even know what it looked like. Was there some sort of hole or tunnel, or was it more complicated, like a lever or a door? Maybe the outsiders had climbed the wall, and there was nothing on this side. He had just cornered himself.

He dragged himself along the edge of the wall for a few feet before his foot sunk a good six inches into the dirt. He immediately dropped down and scooped the dirt away with his hands, revealing a small hole, just big enough to squeeze into. He glanced behind him, but he couldn't quite see the Bishop pursuing him, so he wiggled into the small space and found that it traveled under and through the wall. This was it. He'd found the breach.

The Bishops would certainly find it if he left it uncovered, so he pushed the dirt back up over the hole, though it didn't stay very nicely. He just hoped it was dark enough to cover him. He backed up deeper into the small tunnel, but then his back hit a slab of solid stone, and his heart jerked in his chest. This wasn't a tunnel. He was trapped.

There was just barely enough light to see his hand in front of his face, and the dirt seemed to fill his lungs every time he inhaled. The dirt was packed, but wiggled when he pushed on it, and he suddenly had the horrible realization that it could collapse on him any minute, and he would be buried alive. He wanted to scream in panic, but nothing came out.

He pressed his back against the stone and pulled his knees to his chest, though there was barely enough room to curl up. He couldn't even turn around to face the wall. He almost started forward again when he heard the horse approach the wall, stamping at the ground. The Bishop dismounted, and Clancy held his breath as the rider paced the dirt above him. He thought he heard him muttering to himself, but he couldn't pick up any words.

At last, they left, no doubt to continue the search, and Clancy let himself breathe again. If he could just wait here for a few more hours, maybe he could sneak back to his apartment and pretend as though none of this ever happened.

He wasn't sure how long he waited, but it felt like a lifetime. The earth pressed against him on all sides, stealing his breath and threatening to crush him at any given second. He pushed back against the wall again, and suddenly, it slid, just a little, but it moved just the same. Clancy froze for a moment before he pushed once more, wondering if he was imagining things. Sure enough, a small piece of stone slid backward with a soft grinding sound. This really was the breach. He was sitting in a secret tunnel.

Somehow, he managed to wiggle himself around until he was facing the wall, and then he pushed with every bit of strength he had. Slowly, the rock gave in to the pressure, and eventually fell into a wider tunnel. There was a tiny glimmer of light at the end, and he crawled toward it as fast as he could.

The wall was much thicker than he had thought, and he crawled for a few minutes before the tunnel began to slope upward again. He climbed as fast as he could, desperate for something other than the crushing earth around him, and finally, his hand broke through the soft pile of dirt and grabbed a tuft of grass.

He had never felt more relieved in his entire life.

The tunnel was covered with dirt and sticks to hide it, and Clancy had to push them out of the way before he could drag himself out above ground again. He shook the dirt out of his hair and wiped his face for a moment before he felt it. Wind. Fresh air. He could practically taste it. He looked up at the wall towering over him, and suddenly it hit him. He was out. He was in Trench.

Suddenly, everything felt clearer, as if he had just put his glasses on after weeks without them. Some sort of animal chirped in the grass around him, and he could hear a river in the distance. Even the sky seemed closer, as if he could reach out and grab a handful of stars. He felt like he could truly breathe again; as though a massive weight had just lifted off his shoulders.

He was free.